Entwined Fates

by Tiffany Roberts

  “I am sorry, Father. I did not mean for it come across that way.”

  Vantricar waved a hand dismissively. “You are here, Volcair. I can deal with that tone, so long as you are here.”

  The pang of sorrow that had seized Volcair’s chest a little while ago returned, this time spreading outward in a slow, consuming pulse.

  “Come, my son,” Vantricar said, “stand up so I may see you.”

  Volcair pushed himself out of the chair and stepped toward his father. For the first time, he realized that he was taller than Vantricar; his father seemed almost slight now.

  Vantricar put his hands on the sides of Volcair’s shoulders and smiled at him. “Where is your uniform?”

  “My voluntary term ended a month ago, Father.”

  Now Vantricar’s smile drooped, and he knitted his brow. “A month ago? And what of the honors ceremony? Had I known, I would have made arrangements to travel to Korous to attend. I am sure there is still time to do so, though the short notice complicates matters a—”

  “The ceremony has already been conducted,” Volcair said softly.

  Vantricar’s expression slackened. For a few moments, he simply stared at Volcair, and then the set of his eyebrows hardened, and his frown deepened. “You did not send word to me? Did not invite me?”

  “I was angry at you, Father, and—”

  “You were angry at me?” Vantricar’s grip on Volcair’s shoulders tightened before he dropped his hands. “You have not spoken to me in years, Volcair, and then you purposefully do not invite me to what should have been one of the proudest moments of my life, seeing my son receive full honors from the qalsarn? To one of the proudest moments of your life?”

  “Father—”

  “It was enough that I had to learn of your promotion to commander through old acquaintances from home, but this… Volcair…” Vantricar bowed his head and shook it, pressing his lips into a tight line.

  The feeling in Volcair’s chest only intensified, making it difficult for him to fill his lungs with much-needed air. His heartbeat thumped in his own ears.

  Volcair reached forward and placed his hands on his father’s shoulders. “I was foolish, Father. Foolish and petty. Ever since I was small, I carried that anger inside me, and it was so big. I did not know what to do with it, how to bear it. So…I lashed out at you.”

  Vantricar met Volcair’s gaze, features tight. “I lost her too, Volcair.” Lifting an arm, Vantricar placed a trembling hand on Volcair’s cheek. “You were all I had left after your mother died. You were my only family, my only child. I…I did not know what to do without her. She was my direction, Volcair. All I knew was that I had to cling to you…but that I also had a duty to the Dominion. To our people.”

  For a moment, Volcair’s throat was too constricted to reply. He finally swallowed thickly and ran his tongue across his dry lips. “I know, Father. And I am sorrier than I can say that I did not see your pain through my own.”

  “I tried to balance my duty to you and my duty to the Dominion. I tried so, so hard. I did the best I could, Son. I am sorry it was not enough. I am sorry I failed you.” Vantricar dropped his hand from Volcair’s face.

  “Father…” Volcair searched his father’s eyes as though all the right words could be found in them, but he knew that wasn’t the case. If the right words existed, they were inside Volcair already, and their foundation lay in what Kiara had told him earlier.

  Just be honest with him, Volcair. But be understanding, too.

  “If you failed me, Father, then I failed you, as well,” he finally said. “Despite my disrespect, you were always patient with me. More patient than I deserved. It has taken so long for me to understand, but I do understand now. The service demanded of us from the Dominion…it takes over our lives in so many ways. And I know the thing I was angriest about—when you made me leave Earth—was only you doing as you had to do.”

  “I had hoped you would move on, Volcair,” said Vantricar in a ragged whisper. “I had hoped you would find some semblance of contentment again before you had to serve. I knew you were close to Kiara, but you were all I had. My only reminder of your mother. My only kin. I could not leave you half a universe away… But I fear that the rift I caused between us was at least that large, regardless of my intentions.”

  Volcair released a heavy breath through his nostrils and squeezed his father’s shoulders. “I loved her, Father. I still do. It hurt when you dismissed those feelings. When you disregarded what I knew to be true in my heart. She’s made my qal glow from the moment I first met her. Having to leave her tore a piece out of me, and then being unable to contact her because of Consortium laws…”

  “You were so young, Volcair. I did not think it could be true, especially not of my son. You know what our people’s stance has always been on such relationships, regardless of how your qal reacts.”

  “I know. And I knew then, too. But that did not change it.”

  Vantricar frowned. “And I saw the difference in you while you were with her. You were so much brighter. So much happier. I always thought to myself that it is how you might’ve looked if your mother had survived. If she had been with us.”

  “We carry Mother in our hearts always,” Volcair said, “but she is gone. She has been for so long…and she would not have tolerated the way I behaved because of that loss. She would not have accepted the way I allowed it to fracture our relationship.”

  “You cannot accept that blame, my son.”

  “I do accept it, Father.” Volcair drew in a deep, steadying breath, lowered his hands, and stepped back, out of Vantricar’s reach. What he had to say next could be the turning point of the conversation, of his relationship with his father—but it could turn sharply in either direction. “And though Mother is gone, Kiara is not.”

  “You mean to go back to her? After all this time?”

  Volcair’s lips crept up into a small smile. “We found each other. Deep in Dominion space, our paths crossed again after almost twenty years. In the vastness of the universe, what could that meeting have been other than fate?”

  “I sense there is a story to be told.”

  Volcair nodded. “There is, but only one thing is important, Father—I will be returning to Earth soon, and Kiara and I will be wed.”

  Vantricar’s brows rose, his eyes rounded, and his lips parted.

  “I understand the expectations, Father. I understand the way our people view it. I understand that it may even tarnish your reputation. But you must understand that it is my destiny, and it always has been. I love her, and we are mates. Those truths are indisputable.

  “Whether I receive your approval or not, I will follow through with this. But it would mean everything to me, Father, if you attended this ceremony. It is the only ceremony that matters to me.”

  Vantricar released a soft huff of air, dropped his gaze to the floor, and shook his head. “There are those within the Dominion government who will frown upon this—perhaps more of them than I can guess. They may use it against me as leverage, threaten to expose me as not being here in service to our people. But I do not care.” He met Volcair’s gaze again. His features were hard now, they were determined. “I have spent decades fulfilling my duty to the Entris Dominion, and if those years of service do not speak for themselves, what comes after does not matter.”

  Vantricar stepped closer and placed his hands on Volcair’s shoulders again. “Volcair, my son, I can think of no honor greater than witnessing the joining of you and your mate. And I will do everything in my power to ensure that union is acknowledged as valid by the Dominion whether they like it or not.”

  Before Volcair could respond, Vantricar drew him into a tight hug. It was so unexpected that Volcair didn’t know how to react for a second or two; volturians, especially dignified, ranking volturians, didn’t hug. But the warmth, affection, and desperation in the gesture were so powerful that he found himself returning the embrace.

  So simple a gesture couldn’t
make up for decades of conflict between them…but it was more than enough to speed the process of healing from that strife. For the first time in so long, Volcair felt like he truly had a father.

  He only wished that he’d realized his own errors—his own stubbornness, his own pettiness—a long time ago.

  “Thank you, Volcair,” Vantricar finally said when he pulled back. “Thank you for inviting me. For coming to see me.”

  “Thank you, Father, for all you’ve done for me—especially the things I could not appreciate when I was younger.”

  “I suppose the Dominion will now view my push to sponsor a Consortium invitation to the terrans as biased,” Vantricar said with a chuckle.

  Volcair tilted his head, brow furrowing. “You have been working to have the terrans invited to Arthos?”

  “Since the day I took this post, my son. It may not have seemed so to you back then, but I very much enjoyed our time on Earth. Isaiah Moore and his wife, Jada, were amongst my dearest friends. But these matters are deeply political in nature, and the Dominion has been hesitant to sponsor the terrans despite the deep alliance we have formed with them.”

  For a few seconds, Volcair could only stare at his father. When he attempted to speak, a small, disbelieving chuckle emerged from his throat first. “You have been working toward that for all these years?”

  “I have.”

  “Father, I… Again, I am sorry.”

  “As am I, Volcair.”

  “It is… It is more important now than ever that the terrans are invited to Arthos. That will afford them more of the protections they need.”

  Now Vantricar’s brows knitted. “What do you mean?”

  “My encounter with Kiara occurred because her ship had been hijacked by pirates who intended to sell her and her crew into slavery. We have been seeing a trend amongst those slavers—terrans are considered exotic, and they are increasingly in demand on those markets. Without access to the alliances and resources available on Arthos, I fear they will remain unable to counter such efforts.”

  Vantricar’s expression hardened with a passion and dedication Volcair had rarely seen from him. “All the more reason for me to press our allies—especially those who joined us on Earth those years ago—to cosponsor the application. I promise you, Son, that I will see this done as quickly as possible. What of Kiara? Is she all right?”

  “Fortunately, neither she nor her crew came to any lasting harm. She made it home safely today.”

  “Good. She was always such a bright, lively girl. The universe would have been darker for lack of her.”

  Volcair couldn’t help but see that as a massive understatement, but he understood that his opinion might’ve been considered biased.

  “Father, if you have time…” Volcair gestured to the chairs. “It has been a long while. We both must have so much to tell.”

  Vantricar smiled, raised his left wrist, and activated his holocom. He flicked through a few options on the projection screen. “My afternoon is suddenly free, my son. Are you ready for something to drink now?”

  Twelve

  London, Capital of the United Terran Federation, Earth

  Terran Year 2101

  Kiara could hardly contain her excitement as she stood in the dressing room with her mother, who was applying the finishing touches to Kiara’s hair. The normally unruly curls were pulled back, twisted, and pinned in place, adorned with little white flowers.

  “Stop fidgeting,” Jada scolded around the decorative pin in her mouth. She plucked the pin out and inserted it into Kiara’s hair.

  “I can’t! He’s here, Mum. It’s been weeks since I last saw him.”

  Jada moved to stand in front of Kiara and smiled. Though the woman was in her sixties, she was as beautiful as ever. Her eyes were watery with tears as she pressed her palm to her daughter’s cheek. “You make a gorgeous bride, Kiara. Look.”

  Kiara turned toward the large wall-mounted mirror. Her gown was a mix of human and volturian fashions—a flowing skirt with slits along the sides to reveal her legs and a sleeveless, corseted top that left her arms and shoulders bare. Rather than the traditional white, the fabric was the same color as Volcair’s qal—the same markings that were now permanently inked on Kiara’s skin.

  It was her gift to Volcair.

  The practice was custom among the volturians, and she wanted to give him that part of his culture. She wanted everyone to look upon her and know, without a doubt, whose mate she was.

  The surprise was the reason she hadn’t let Volcair see her—even during their calls—since he’d returned to Earth a few days earlier. Though it had driven her crazy to stay away from him, she knew it’d be worth the look in his eyes when he finally saw her.

  The door slid open, and Kiara turned to see her father enter the room. She beamed at him.

  “Ah, my little girl,” Isaiah said, opening his arms to her.

  Kiara embraced him, and he squeezed her tight. “Hi, Daddy.”

  “It feels as though you were sitting on my knee only yesterday. Where have all the years gone?” He drew back, taking gentle hold of her arms. “Let me look at you.”

  She smiled up at her father.

  His eyes were alight with pride. “You are beautiful, Kiara.”

  “Thanks, Daddy.”

  “Oh! Volcair asked me to give you something.” Isaiah dipped his hand into his pocket and withdrew a small, square silver box. He handed it to her.

  Without hesitation, Kiara opened it. Her heart overflowed with love for Volcair as she removed her balus stone pendant from the box. The chain, which had been broken by the tretin pirate, had been replaced. It looked to be a mix of white gold and tristeel now, just as beautiful as before but far stronger—just like her connection with Volcair. “My necklace!”

  She’d been distraught when she left Janus Six, convinced she’d lost the necklace. She’d torn the room apart, desperate to find it, but it had seemingly vanished. Volcair had vowed to find it. Had it been in his possession all along?

  Whether or not it was, he fixed it.

  “Help me put it on, Mum?”

  “Of course,” Jada said.

  Kiara looked at her father as Jada slipped the necklace around Kiara’s neck and clasped the chain. Once it was in place, the balus stone hung just below her collarbone.

  Isaiah reached out and took Kiara’s hand in both of his. The joy in his eyes dimmed slightly. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am for all the years you lost because of my silence.”

  “Don’t.” Kiara leaned forward and pressed a kiss on her father’s cheek. “I know why you did it, Daddy, and I don’t blame you.”

  Had he understood the truth, he never would’ve kept the secret from her. She wasn’t angry with him; she knew he’d acted out of love and concern.

  “It’s in the past,” she said softly, drawing back to smile at her father. “We won’t look back. Only forward.”

  Isaiah smiled in return, his eyes misting. “My wise, beautiful girl.” He looped his arm around hers. “Are you ready to marry your mate?”

  Kiara’s heart thundered. “I’ve been ready my whole life.”

  Volcair glanced toward the entryway at the end of the long aisle for what must’ve been the thousandth time. The months had gone by with surprising speed, but this waiting—waiting for his bride, who he had not seen in person since her time on Janus Six—felt eternal. His heart pounded, not due to nervousness, but anticipation. Cypher sat on the floor beside him, tail swishing seemingly in time with Volcair’s heartbeat, restless and eager.

  Kiara and Volcair had spoken through voice communication for hours and hours since his arrival on Earth several days before, but she hadn’t allowed him so much as a glimpse of her. Though he’d heard the longing in her voice, she’d refused to meet him, refused to invite him to her house.

  She’d said the extra wait would make it more special when they finally saw each other.

  His eyes shifted from the empty entryway to the people
seated on either side of the aisle—terrans on the same side as Volcair was standing, volturians on the side Kiara would stand. It was an old Volturian tradition for such ceremonies, made more meaningful when the mates’ qalarin—or in this case, species—were different. It was a sign that the families supported the union.

  Vantricar had come, along with several other high-ranking Dominion officials and ambassadors. Volcair only cared about his father’s presence, but it was heartening to see those other guests—it meant his union to Kiara would be recognized both by the United Terran Federation and the Entris Dominion. He knew it didn’t mean the Dominion itself was wildly altering its stance on interspecies relationships, but this was a start.

  Of course, he’d have followed through whether they’d approved or not. His service to the Dominion was over; he’d more than earned the right to live without their contempt for following his heart.

  Kiara was all that mattered to him.

  A sudden swell of music hushed the crowd’s quiet conversations and drew Volcair out of his thoughts. When he looked to the entryway again, it was no longer empty.

  Isaiah and Jada stood in the opening, positioned to either side of their daughter. Volcair’s eyes fell on Kiara, and his breath caught in his throat.

  She was radiant, more beautiful than ever before, and her smile—a smile just for him—filled the room with light and joy. The white-blue of her dress contrasted her dark skin while perfectly complementing the markings on her face, neck, and shoulders—markings that matched his qal exactly.

  Volcair’s chest swelled with pride, and that old, familiar warmth—the warmth he’d first felt when he met a little terran girl so many years ago—spread outward from his heart. He hadn’t fully understood as a child why his parents had taken on one another’s qal, but he did now. He’d not expected Kiara to take his and would never have asked it of her, but that she’d done so was a sign of devotion and love he feared he could never match.