Entwined Fates

by Tiffany Roberts

  “There you are!” Jada Moore pushed the door wide as she entered. “We have been looking for you two everywhere.”

  Isaiah and Vantricar stepped inside behind her.

  Kiara leapt off the chair to face her parents. “Volcair and I were just playing! We were having so much fun.”

  Isaiah glanced about the room, his lips downturned, before he shifted his gaze to Kiara and Volcair. “I can see that.”

  Volcair hurried off his chair and assumed a rigid posture as his father’s attention fell upon him. His heart pounded; he couldn’t read Vantricar’s expression, couldn’t tell if his father was upset or amused.

  Jada moved closer to the table, which was scattered with crumbs despite the children’s best efforts. “Oh, Kiara, how many sweets did you eat?”

  Kiara clasped her hands behind her back. “Only a few. We didn’t spoil our tummies.”

  “Next time, Volcair, tell me where you are going,” Vantricar said, his tone as ambiguous as his expression. “There are forces in this universe that do not wish for our peoples to be friends, and when a child sneaks away, a parent’s first thought is of danger.”

  “I am sorry, Father.” Volcair bowed his head and averted his eyes. “My apologies to you, Minister Moore, and you, Lady Moore, as well.”

  “Ambassador Vantricar is correct. You worried us,” Isaiah said.

  Kiara frowned. “I’m sorry. It was my fault. I told Volcair to follow me and nick the sweets.”

  Volcair’s cheeks warmed. Why was she taking full responsibility? “I am the one who wanted to leave the party, and I should have known better. It is not Kiara’s fault.”

  A faint smile touched Vantricar’s lips. “It seems our children have set an example for us—they are already friends.”

  Isaiah chuckled. “So it seems.”

  “Best friends,” Kiara said. “Volcair is my best mate.”

  Volcair glanced at her from the corner of his eye and smiled. He didn’t know what he’d done to earn such loyalty from her, but it made him feel good.

  “Most of the guests are preparing to sit and eat dinner now. Would you two like to come and join us?” asked Isaiah.

  Kiara clasped her hands together and raised them to her chin. “Could Volcair and I sit next to each other? Please?”

  “I don’t see why not,” Jada said, lifting her brows as she glanced at Vantricar.

  “So long as you both eat your vegetables.” Vantricar settled his gaze on Kiara. “Your parents told me you do not care for them, but they are vital to your health.”

  Excitement lit up Kiara’s face. “Oh, I will! I promise.” She turned to Volcair and reached for his hand. “I’ll even eat seconds if I have to.”

  Those delightful tingles ran up Volcair’s arm when she laced her fingers with his, and something fluttered in his chest.

  Best mates.

  He knew Kiara really meant friends, but part of him wanted it to be more.

  Two

  London, Capital of the United Terran Federation, Earth

  Terran Year 2080

  “Father, we need to go,” Volcair said. He stood in the doorway of his father’s office with Cypher pacing behind him.

  “I am working, Volcair,” Vantricar replied. “We will leave when I am finished.”

  Volcair clenched his jaw. “You knew the party was today. You knew what time it started. And now we are late because you could not set aside your work for a little while.”

  Vantricar’s nostrils flared, and he stilled. “I do not appreciate the tone you have taken with me, Volcair.”

  “And I do not appreciate that I am failing Kiara because you cannot properly manage your work schedule!”

  Slamming his hands atop his desk, Vantricar pushed himself to his feet. His qal glowed, sparking a furious light in his eyes.

  Cypher whined and pressed himself against Volcair’s calves.

  Fear blossomed in Volcair’s gut—perhaps he’d pushed too far—but that fear was not strong enough to overpower his frustration.

  “I have had enough of your insolence, boy,” Vantricar said with a growl.

  Volcair refused to back down, refused to so much as flinch. “Then send me on my way with the driver. You can work, and my promise to Kiara will go unbroken.”

  “You are old enough to understand the importance of—”

  “Of keeping promises. I have a duty to Kiara because I gave her my word that I would attend her birthday party, and you are preventing me from doing so. If your work is so important, Father, you can stay here. It is not as though you would acknowledge my presence once we were at the party, regardless.”

  Volcair had attended Kiara’s birthday celebrations for each of the last four years, and he would not miss this one. Though the terran tradition of celebrating the anniversary of one’s birth was meaningless to Volcair, it was important to Kiara, and that was all that mattered to him. She’d been particularly excited about this year—this was her twelfth birthday, which she’d said meant she was practically a lady.

  Some of the fury faded from Vantricar’s face, and he lowered his gaze. He said in a soft voice, “I have many duties to fulfill as well. You know this, Volcair.”

  Volcair’s eyes suddenly stung. “What of your duty to me, Father?”

  Vantricar’s jaw muscles ticked, and his frown softened slightly, eased by a regretful shimmer in his eyes. He was silent for several seconds before he asked, “How late are we?”

  “The party began thirty minutes ago.”

  Vantricar ran one hand through his hair while he dismissed his work on the desk console with the other. “Hopefully we have not insulted Minister Moore with our tardiness…”

  A bitter taste spread across Volcair’s tongue. He shook his head. “That is your concern?”

  “I know you are infatuated with the minister’s daughter, but you—”

  “It is not an infatuation, Father.”

  “Oh? What, then, would you call it?” Vantricar walked around his desk and approached Volcair. “You are fascinated with this terran girl, and I will not dissuade you from it. But this infatuation will soon come to an end.”

  Volcair glared at his father. His heart pounded, and his mouth felt dry. “She will be a part of my life forever. I love her.”

  “Love? What do you know of love?” Vantricar came to a halt a meter away from his son, his expression hardening. “Have you grown so wise in your fourteen years you think you know what love means?”

  Volcair hated how small he felt at that moment, but he would not show it. “I am old enough to know, Father. It is not your place to tell me how I feel.”

  “Now I understand why you asked me to obtain a balus stone.” Vantricar’s shoulders rose and fell as he drew in and released a deep breath. “You are young and confused, Volcair. This is nothing more than a phase. You will move on from it before long, and when you are old enough, you will find a volturian to mate. Of a respectable qalar, preferably.”

  “My qal reacted to her the first time we met,” Volcair said, clenching his fists, “and it reacts every time I see her.”

  “The hallmark of a confused child,” Vantricar replied, but there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

  “I will give her the balus stone tonight, Father, and with it I will give my promise.”

  “I was ten years older than you are now when I gave your mother a balus stone and my promise. I did not tell you of that night so you could pervert it like this. This is too serious for you to understand while you are so young.”

  “I will do it all the same.”

  “You will do as I say. In six years, your time for service will have come, and you will take a civil position that will bring honor to our qalar. When you are ready, you will find your true volturian mate, and once you have garnered enough experience, you will join me in my work. It is what you are meant for. This time on Earth is a lesson in diplomacy with an alien species, nothing more.”

  Anger roiled within Volcair like a
raging storm; it heated his skin and sent tremors through his limbs, made his gut churn and his chest tighten. Yet, why bother expressing that anger? Vantricar heard when Volcair spoke, but never listened.

  “Can we leave, please?” Volcair asked.

  With a heavy sigh, Vantricar lifted a hand and waved Volcair onward.

  They arrived at the Moore residence fifteen minutes later—a full fifty-one minutes late. Hovercars lined the drive; there were likely dozens of guests in attendance, which would only make Volcair’s lack of punctuality more pronounced.

  Volcair hopped out of their vehicle—Cypher on his heels—before the driver had brought it to a full stop, slamming the door shut on his father’s admonishments. His heart sped and his stomach knotted with anticipation as he hurried toward the manor’s entrance.

  Cypher bounded along beside him.

  Strings of lights had been hung in the trees and between the light posts along the drive, casting a yellowish glow in defiance of the deepening dusk. The doors to the Moores’ large home stood open with a guard posted to each side, and small groups of guests moved in and out freely. Volcair and Cypher darted between two such groups on their way inside. Neither Volcair nor the inux were fazed by the glares they received from the adults, who seemed upset that the teenager hadn’t stood aside in reverence as they passed.

  The interior had been decorated with similar lights as the outside, their luminescence creating a brilliant new shine on the polished walls and floor. Though this was a child’s birthday, most of the guests were adults clad in fine suits and dresses. Volcair recognized many of them from his father’s diplomatic dealings. Gathered in little clusters, they chatted, sipped wine, and nibbled on finger foods from trays carried by servants.

  It was everything Kiara said she disliked about such affairs, and everything her birthday parties always became—events only superficially celebrating her.

  After a brief search, he found her in one of the large gathering rooms, standing with three other children—two girls and a boy, probably the offspring of terran officials with high-ranking posts. As always, though, it was Kiara who caught Volcair’s full attention. The sight of her stole his breath. Each time he saw her, she looked a little older and a little more beautiful.

  She wore a puffy white dress, and her hair—adorned with flecks of silver that shimmered under the lights—was pulled back into a tight bun. Though her lips were upturned in a warm smile, Volcair recognized the subtle, sad light in her eyes.

  He had caused that sadness.

  Volcair walked toward her. He would ease her mood, would show her that he’d kept his word, that he had come, that he would always come for her. But he drew to a sudden halt when the terran boy beside her reached for her hand.

  Something ignited within Volcair, something hot and seething. He gritted his teeth and curled his hands into fists as a strange, thrumming energy coursed along his qal. His gaze locked on the boy’s hand as it touched Kiara’s.

  The boy had no right to touch her, had no right to hold her hand. The contact was too forward, too familiar, too…intimate.

  Kiara’s brow furrowed. Her large, dark eyes dipped to the boy’s fingers, which had wrapped around hers, but Cypher charged toward her before she reacted further. The inux released an excited warble.

  “Cypher!” Kiara turned toward the inux, pulling her hand away from the boy’s, and her face lit up. After a moment of searching the crowd, her gaze found Volcair’s. Her smile widened, and joy snuffed out the sad light in her eyes.

  The thrumming sensation along Volcair’s qal continued, now accompanied by a familiar warmth.

  My Kiara.

  Kiara grabbed handfuls of her gauzy skirt, lifted it up to provide a little freedom to her legs, and ran toward Volcair without a backward glance at the other human children. Her parents would’ve been appalled by her manners, but she didn’t care.

  “Volcair! You made it.”

  He opened his arms, and Kiara threw herself against him. He grunted softly at the impact but embraced her as tightly as she did him.

  “Sorry I’m late,” he said in English. His accent gave the words a unique flair.

  “It’s all right. You’re here now.”

  She stepped away and tilted her head back to look up at him. Though he’d always been taller than her, he’d hit a significant growth spurt over the last year or so, and now had almost a third of a meter on Kiara. And lately, his height made her feel…different. She liked how he towered over her, how his arms engulfed her when they hugged. He made her feel protected, safe, cherished.

  Her heart pounded so hard against her ribs that she swore it was about to burst free. Volcair was dressed in white Volturian formal wear, his tunic cut to emphasize his narrow waist. The high collar granted him an air of elegance, and his high boots and form-fitting pants made him appear even taller than he already was.

  He was so handsome. Emily and Diane, the girls she’d just left behind, thought so, too; Kiara knew they were likely ogling him right now. They liked him liked him, and it always made her angry when they talked about him.

  Volcair was hers, after all.

  Just in case the other girls had any lingering doubts about that fact after Kiara and Volcair’s embrace, she lowered her arms and took his hand in hers, lacing their fingers together.

  “Kiara?” Edward asked from behind.

  She glanced over her shoulder to see Edward approaching. She groaned.

  “Who is he, Kiara?” Edward pressed.

  Without another word, Kiara ran, tugging Volcair along behind her. She ducked beneath waiters’ trays, dodged past conversing guests, and pretended she couldn’t hear Edward as she hurried across the room. She laughed as excitement swelled in her chest, pushing her on faster. Volcair never lagged, never asked what she was doing; he trusted her. That felt good.

  Finally, they reached the open back doors, beyond which more guests were gathered around tables in the garden. She stopped and released Volcair’s hand only long enough to remove her heels and toss them aside.

  “Kiara!” Edward called from somewhere behind.

  She chanced another backward glance to see him on his toes, peering between the guests in the nearby room. She grabbed Volcair’s hand and met his gaze. “We need to hide.”

  After casting a glare in Edward’s direction, Volcair nodded and gave her hand a little squeeze. They raced outside and across the grass, passing beneath the string lights that had been hung around the grounds, with Cypher bolting ahead of them.

  All three of them knew where they were going without saying anything. They crossed the tree line and entered the thick shadows beneath the boughs, barely slowing despite the darkness. They’d walked this ground hundreds of times before; Kiara knew the way by heart.

  It wasn’t long before they entered the small, grassy clearing where she and Volcair had spent countless afternoons—it was their secret spot, out of sight of the house and never visited by the groundskeepers.

  Kiara looked up at the sky. Twilight had nearly given way to full dark, and the first stars, made tiny by distance, twinkled overhead. She took a deep breath as her heartbeat eased. The air here smelled green and alive, so different from the sterilized scent of the manor’s gleaming halls or the stuffy offices in which her father conducted his work.

  “Who was that boy?” Volcair asked.

  Kiara wrinkled her nose. “Edward Berkeley. My father is friends with his, and they’ve been visiting lately. Often.” She glanced at Volcair. “He likes me.”

  Volcair moved to stand directly in front of Kiara, brushing his thumb along the side of her hand. “Did you…did you want him to touch your hand?”

  “No. I don’t like it, but he never listens.” She reached up and tucked a strand of Volcair’s blue hair behind his pointed ear. “You’re the only one who does.”

  “If he touches you again, I’ll break his nose.”

  Kiara laughed; she almost felt bad about her amusement, almost felt bad for w
anting to see Volcair break the bloody little perv’s nose, but it would serve Edward right to suffer a consequence for his behavior.

  “You shouldn’t do that,” she said with a sigh. “It would look bad for you and your father.”

  Volcair frowned, and his eyebrows angled down over the bridge of his nose. “I don’t much care right now. Bugger my father’s reputation.”

  Kiara nearly chuckled—she usually did when he used words like bugger, which his accent made somehow pretty—but she knew this wasn’t a laughing matter by his tone. She squeezed his hand. “Is everything all right, Volcair?”

  “It is while I’m here with you. He just…he doesn’t seem to understand, Kiara, that what he wants isn’t what I want. He spends all his time busy with everyone but me, yet he expects me to follow in his footsteps. Sometimes I just don’t want anything to do with him.”

  Kiara frowned and rubbed her thumb against his. “I understand. I feel like that with my parents sometimes, too. Usually they do that stuff because they love us. But just because they love us and they’re older doesn’t mean they’re always right.”

  She released his hand and lowered herself onto the grass, sweeping the skirt of her dress beneath her to keep her legs covered. “But we’re not worrying about that while we’re here, right? Sit with me.”

  Volcair offered her a gentle smile and sat beside her. Cypher lay down with his body curled against Kiara’s shins; she absently reached down and ran her hand along his back. No matter how many times she petted the inux, the feel of his skin was always a wonder.

  This was what she’d longed for all day. Not the fancy affair, the crowd of strangers, the expensive gifts that were more about impressing her father than making her happy, or the children her age who she barely knew—who she didn’t want to know. All she’d wanted for her birthday was some quiet time with her best mates.

  Time with Volcair.

  She tipped her head back. “The stars are already beautiful.”

  “They are,” Volcair replied, “and I…I brought you one.”

  Kiara’s eyes rounded, and she looked at him. “You did?”