Chapter 8
Rezor
The grow facility reeked of destruction.
Burned metal. Scorched plant matter. The acrid stench of overheated synthetic materials. I stood at the entrance, taking in the damage with a growing sense of dread that had nothing to do with the female standing beside me.
Scorch marks blackened the clear dome panels in jagged patterns that spread out from a central impact point. Lightning strike. Direct hit. The kind of thing that shouldn’t have been possible, but there it was. Evidence that our protected valley was slowly being overtaken by the never-ending storms.
Inside, several rows of plants were completely destroyed.
Blackened stalks, withered leaves, the smell of death where there should have been growth.
The climate control system sat silent and dark, no longer maintaining the precise temperature and humidity that kept this part of our food supply alive.
The forest provided food, yes, but this facility kept us from having to take too much from it.
If we couldn’t fix this, we’d lose everything in the facility within days. Maybe sooner.
And I couldn’t stop thinking about how, if this crisis hadn’t interrupted us, I’d be kissing Cleo right now.
I wanted to do much more than kiss her. I wanted to rut her, claim her, take her in every imaginable way.
The need had roared through me when I touched her face.
When I’d seen the want in her eyes, it hadn’t been civilized.
It had been primal. A driving urge to possess that went beyond any urge I thought I’d experienced before.
My marks still burned with the memory of her skin beneath my palm.
She’d leaned into my touch despite her resistance, and the sound she’d made was half protest and all surrender.
My body wanted to forget the crisis, forget my responsibilities, and finish what we’d started on that wall.
But I was a leader. I had duties. People depended on me.
Standing here with Cleo beside me and my marks blazing hot enough to hurt, all I wanted was to drag her somewhere private and show her exactly what deep compatibility meant.
“Everyone back to your homes,” I ordered, my voice harder than I’d intended. The crowd that had gathered scattered immediately, mothers pulling children close, elders moving with careful haste. “Except engineers and guards. The rest of you, go.”
I looked up at the sky as people dispersed. The clouds were different tonight. Wrong. They pressed closer to the valley than they had even one sun-cycle ago, spilling over the mountain peaks in ways that made my chest tighten with concern.
The encroachment was gradual. So slow that you could miss it if you weren’t watching carefully. But I’d been watching for cycles now, tracking the steady progression as the storms pushed deeper into our sanctuary.
A sun-cycle ago, the clouds had stayed well above the peaks. Half a sun-cycle ago, they’d begun touching the highest points. Now they tipped just over the ridges. Not constantly, but more than they ever had in the past.
Our protection was failing. The natural barriers that had kept us safe for generations were being overwhelmed by storms that grew more violent with each passing season.
And if we lost the grow facility on top of everything else…
“Rezor.” Cleo’s voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. She was already moving toward the damaged control system, scanning the unit with focused intensity. “I need Korin.”
I gestured, and one of the guards ran to fetch him. But when Korin arrived moments later, he looked apologetic.
“Lord Rezor, I don’t work on the grow facility systems. My expertise is water purification. The climate controls use different technology, different principles. I—”
“Then who does work on them?” Cleo interrupted, her frustration evident. “Someone has to maintain this place.”
“I do.” A female voice came from behind us. I turned to see Venith, one of our most skilled engineers, approaching with careful steps. Her eyes were a cautious yellow as she took in the damage. “Or I did. Before this happened.”
“Good. I need your help.” Cleo was already pulling tools from the emergency kit that had been brought. “What systems failed first? What was the cascade?”
Venith moved to join her, and within moments they were deep in conversation. Technical terms I didn’t fully understand, rapid-fire questions and answers as they worked to diagnose the problem.
Cleo didn’t look back at me. Didn’t acknowledge my presence at all. She was completely absorbed in the work while Venith watched and answered the questions she could. There were many she could not.
The other engineers gathered close, observing, asking their own questions. And to my surprise, they seemed open to Cleo’s expertise. Respectful of her knowledge, despite her being an alien.
Maybe because they recognized competence when they saw it. Or maybe because the alternative to accepting her help was losing everything in this facility.
I hoped she could fix it. No, I needed her to fix it. The thought of losing the grow facility, of watching our carefully preserved plants wither and die, of having to tell my people that our food security had just been cut in half, made my chest ache.
“The prophecy warned of trials,” Zelana said from beside me. I hadn’t heard her approach, but there she was, eyes bright gold with that look she got when she was seeing patterns I couldn’t. “This is exactly what has been foretold. The sanctuary facing its greatest challenge.”
“Zelana, not now,” I said quietly.
“When, then?” She gestured at the damaged facility, at Cleo working frantically with Venith. “Three sky people fall from the storms, and immediately our systems begin to fail. You cannot deny the correlation.”
“And what would you have me do about it?” I turned to the seer who’d helped raise me with too much heat in my voice. “The storms are worsening. Our technology is ancient. These failures were inevitable.”
“Were they?” Vax had joined us, his expression grim. “This is catastrophic, Lord Rezor. If it’s part of the prophecy, if their presence is triggering these disasters, we’re headed for ruin. Can’t you see that? We should exile them before it’s too late.”
“And if exiling them makes things worse?” I met his hard gaze. “If the prophecy requires us to work with them, not against them?”
“Unless the sky people can hold back the storms themselves, we’re doomed either way.” His eyes flashed red with anger and fear. “But at least if we exile them, we face doom on our own terms.”
I didn’t have an answer for that. As a leader responsible for hundreds of lives, I wondered if he was right. If keeping the sky people here was a mistake that would cost us everything.
But another part, the part where my marks burned hot and certain, knew that Cleo was meant to be here. That her presence, her knowledge, her impossible effect on me, it all meant something.
I just didn’t know how to explain that to Vax in a way that wouldn’t sound like I was thinking with my cock instead of my mind.
“Lord Rezor.” Cleo’s voice pulled my attention back to her.
She’d moved away from the control panel and was crouched on the ground with access plates pulled open, surrounded by a tangle of wires and blackened tubes.
“This is just a connection panel. Surface-level damage. Electricity can send shocks deep into systems. I need access to the central system to see how far the damage went.”
“The central power grid?” Vax said immediately. “Absolutely not. That supplies power to everything in the village. It’s too vulnerable.”
“It’s also the only way to diagnose the real problem,” Cleo countered. She stood, brushing dirt from her knees, and looked directly at me. Not at Vax, not at Zelana, at me. “Replacing these connections won’t fix the problem. I can’t fix this from here. I need to see the central system.”
“You’re asking us to give an outsider access to our most critical infrastructure,” Vax said, his voice tight with barely controlled anger. “To the systems that keep us alive. That’s insane.”
“Do what you want.” Cleo’s gaze didn’t waver from mine. “I can help, but only if you trust me enough to show me what I need to see.”
Trust. There was that word again.
I looked at Vax, at the fear and suspicion in his eyes. At Zelana, who watched with that knowing expression that suggested she’d already seen how this would play out. At the damaged grow facility and the encroaching clouds and the weight of every decision that rested on my shoulders.
Then I looked at Cleo. At the determination in her unchanging brown eyes, the confidence in her stance, the way she’d fixed our water system without hesitation and was now offering to do the same for our grow facility.
At the female whose presence made my marks burn with recognition and certainty.
“Come with me,” I said. “I’ll take you to the central chamber.”
“Lord Rezor—” Vax started.
“Your objection is noted.” I kept my voice level but firm.
“But this is final. Cleo has proven herself trustworthy.” I leaned close to him and said quietly, “We are out of options, Vax. And you know it.” I returned to Cleo’s side and gestured toward the path that led to the underground access tunnels. “Take whatever tools you may need.”
Cleo tucked a couple devices in her belt and fell into step beside me as we left the grow facility.
Vax and a guard followed at a careful distance, close enough to intervene if needed but far enough to give us space.
Zelana stayed behind, probably to examine the damage and divine more prophecies from it.