Chapter 35 #2
Arture steps in front of me and the All-Mother, his shoulders squared and scales hardening.
His gaze shifts skyward, scanning the sky as a faint roar grows louder.
All around, the crowd gasps, their celebration morphing into murmurs of fear, but I can’t take my eyes off Arture; strong, unyielding, and prepared to face whatever comes next.
A ship decloaks above us with a shuddering hum, its hull a stark grey-black against the sunset. Women scatter to safety, their men surrounding them, scales bristling.
A booming voice echoes from its speakers, “Hello, fertile female!”
It takes me a second to process the words, but then my stomach twists. “It’s the Nexas,” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the murmur of the crowd.
Arture moves like he’s ready to shift, but I grab his hand and squeeze it tightly. “Don’t. You only have one heart now. Don’t risk it.”
His golden eyes burn into mine, reluctant but resigned.
The loud voice booms again. “I’m landing now. You fire at me, you get the big booms.”
The All-Mother mutters under her breath, “Drok na, these Nexi.” Clearly, she’s dealt with them before. Her voice drops lower as she adds, “I wonder what he wants.”
“He’s not having you,” Arture growls, his hand tightening around mine. His tone is protective, fierce, but there’s an edge of uncertainty too. I cling back, letting myself be comforted by the strength in his grip.
The ship descends onto the rooftop with a loud bang, metal panels clanking and falling off as it touches down. A hiss of air releases as the gangplank descends, smoke rolling out in a theatrical entrance.
A towering Gerverstock emerges, red flashing up and down his arms, pounding down the gangplank.
A Selthiastock strides out next, scowling fiercely, a blaster gripped tight in his hands.
Behind them, three purple-scaled Parthiastocks stalk in perfect formation, their eyes locking immediately on Arture.
“Ilia! Gara! Dom—” Arture begins, but he doesn’t get to finish.
Ilia moves fast, faster than I've ever seen such a big guy move. He grabs Arture by the throat and lifts him clean off the ground like he weighs nothing.
“Stop!” I shout. “How did you… where have you… what?”
From the corner of my eye, familiar faces peek around the edge of the ship’s entrance. Ellen, Arabella, and Laura, with Greharm the Nexas behind them.
“Girls,” I squeal. “I’m okay.”
They come running down the ramp toward me, and my fear is forgotten. But then I spin back around to face Ilia, whose hand is still wrapped tightly around Arture’s throat. “Please, let Arture go.”
Ilia blinks at me, surprised, but his grip doesn’t falter. “He’s a Samarastock, a plant from the Prif.”
Arture’s face goes steel grey. He taps on Ilia’s hand, a silent but urgent plea, but doesn't try to punch his way free.
The All-Mother touches Ilia’s shoulder. “It’s alright, Ilia. Let him go.”
Ilia hesitates, his eyes flicking between me, Arture, and the All-Mother, before finally relenting. He releases Arture, who stumbles but recovers quickly, his chest heaving as he catches his breath.
And then, to my astonishment, Arture gives Ilia the same maddening, cocky grin that always drives me crazy.
Of course he does.
He spreads his arms wide in front of his old shipmates. “What do you think of my new look? Or rather, my old one?”
“I think I’ve been smashed over the head,” Gara snarls. He looks between me and Arture. “He kidnapped you. We’ve chased you across the stars in a faulty ship, onto an even faultier ship, to rescue you.”
My heart warms. “And thank you for that. It’s very sweet of you.”
“Sweet?” Dom mutters. “I’m not feeling sweet. I’m murderous. Do you know how many laws he’s broken?”
Arture holds up a finger. “But do you know how many crimes I’ve been acquitted of?”
Dom goes almost as green as Gara.
Ilia studies Arture with sharp focus. “I thought I knew you. The pilot we picked up on Alion Five, who left us but returned. Was every moment of that a lie?”
Arture’s new gilded eye flashes. “Yes, Ilia. And no. It was all me and not me, but now I’ve reconciled all the memories in my head. This is the real me. And… I… well. I… I'm sorry.”
Ilia's face softens, red disappearing into purple on his arms before fading into petrol blue.
“He can explain everything,” I reassure him. “It involves a lot of manipulation, torture, and mistreatment by the Prif, but now, well… he’s a hero.”
Arture’s chest swells next to me, and I nudge him with my elbow. He sweeps my hand up in a kiss, eyebrows waggling, and I giggle.
The guys stare at me anew.
My besties approach and the guys instantly relax as soon as they have their arms around their mates. The girls look a bit sun-starved and sleep deprived, but otherwise seem well.
“Nicole, thank fuck.” Arabella’s the first to wrap me in her arms.
“You should have seen us. We freaked the fuck out big time,” Laura says.
“I bet.” Tears sting my eyes. My friends are perfect. “How did you even get here?”
Laura shrugs nonchalantly, as if it’s no big deal. “We took off in the exile’s ship.”
“It needed a bit of repair work,” Ellen chimes in, glancing sideways at Laura.
“But we didn’t do enough,” Arabella admits, her face scrunching in embarrassment.
I blink at them, before Laura cheerfully adds, “Fortunately, this nice Nexas picked us up.” She pats the giant Nexas on his massive arm like he really is a big friendly Clydesdale horse.
Greharm grins widely, his crystal fists glittering in the last rays of the sun. “Nice humans said they didn’t have sedatives, but Greharm smart. He learns, yes, and didn't try to take any of the mates.”
Dom scowls at him, and Laura strokes his arm to settle him down.
“Greharm kindly brought us the rest of the way,” Ellen finishes, her tone matter-of-fact, as if catching a ride with a Nexas was another day on the farm.
Arabella, meanwhile, bounces from foot to foot, too excited to stay still. “And I decorated his ship from top to bottom.”
Greharm’s chest swells with pride. “Ship decorated by a female better for attracting female, no?”
I press a hand to my face, trying not to laugh at how absurd all of this is. Typical. Only these three could get into this kind of trouble and then manage to charm their way out of it.
“So, what happened with, uh, Arture?” Ellen asks.
“It’s always the quiet ones you have to watch,” Arabella chimes in, giving him a considering look.
My face starts to burn. Where do I even start? “It’s a long story.”
“Well, it’s a long way back to Earth,” Laura says, ever the pragmatic one. She claps her hands. “We have our businesses to run, ladies. Time is money.”
Rolling my eyes but smiling, I pull them toward the side of the building.
The celebrations below are going strong again, now it's clear there's no threat.
The clones are dancing, cheering and crying, their joy lighting up the city in ways I could never have imagined.
All our faces flash up on a vid screen, and the clones bellow their excitement at seeing human females.
They scream louder when the guys come to stand next to their females and the clones see the love between the chosen mates up here.
“Wow, Nicole,” Arabella breathes, leaning back into Gara's arms as she takes in the sight. “What did you do?”
I shake my head and smile softly. “We did this,” I say, turning to look at each of them in turn. “Every one of us, and our guys. We’ve changed this society forever—for the better.”
Before I can say more, a familiar presence slides up behind me. Arture, ever the sneaky one, wraps an arm around my waist and steals a sudden kiss. My heart leaps, and I melt into him, letting myself feel every ounce of love and trust we’ve built.
When we pull apart, his golden eyes fill with that quiet, unwavering devotion I’ve come to adore.
I rest my hand over his chest, where his heart beats, the steady and strong twin to my own.
Seeing my friends with their lovers makes my own love swell.
My heart is safe with him, and his, beating inside me, is safe with me.
Forever.