Celestial Seductions: The Complete Series: An MM Gay Paranormal Mpreg Romance Collection

by Odin Nightshade

  “Orion?” Hunter asked, snuggling into the arms that held him.

  “Yes?”

  “Are we really going home?”

  “Yes.” Orion swallowed. “For good or ill, yes.”

  “You're in trouble, for bringing me here?” Hunter asked, feeling bad.

  “Well,” Orion breathed out, “we'll face that when we come to it.” He kissed Hunter's hair. “Right now,” He kissed him again, “I am the happiest man alive.”

  “No.” Hunter smiled. They kissed. “No, you can't be. Because I am.”

  They slept.

  Travelling at near-light speed seemed to have some strange effects. Time dilation, for one thing. Not that they would know anything about it, Orion explained one evening, but the time they passed on the spaceship would seem much longer on Earth; a few minutes here being hours in the stationary frame of Earth.

  “Not that that will affect us, really,” Orion smiled. He passed Hunter a piece of bread, and they dipped it in olive oil, sitting at a low, round table in the main room, where the bed was. “The most we'd know about it,” he continued, “is if we returned to Earth. Which,” he said, through a mouthful, “we are not going to do.”

  “What?” Hunter said, a grin splitting his face. “Orion? What?”

  “Well, we don't have to return.”

  It had been their greatest fear, ever since Orion had brought Hunter here, disobeying the wishes of the Elder Meet. They had known that what they did was against the rules, and they had feared the ship would be sent back, becalmed on earth.

  “What happened?” Hunter asked again, when his heart-rate had returned and he had managed to speak through the wide smile encompassing his face.

  “Well,” Orion began, smiling as he swallowed a mouthful of the bread, “I had a message from the Meet. This morning.”

  “When I slept?” Hunter asked, interested despite himself, as he slept so deeply nowadays – a consequence, Orion said, smiling, of his pregnancy.

  “While I also slept.” Orion nodded, agreeing. “That's how we communicate around here, after all.” He smiled.

  “Oh. Yes.” Hunter nodded, remembering how he and Orion talked when he was asleep. “And?”

  “And,” Orion began, “they seem to have forgiven us. Well,” He swallowed again, looking down, “either they have forgiven us, or they want to judge us for themselves.”

  “Oh?” Hunter asked.

  “Well,” Orion continued, “they've summoned us to base. So I think they want to meet us. Meet you, that is.” He smiled. “In which case, I think it is safe to say we're in the clear.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Well,” Orion smiled, “no-one who meets you could fail to love you.”

  “Dear.” Hunter smiled. They kissed, and when Hunter sat back, his face was streaked with his tears.

  “Honestly, though,” he continued, after he had found his voice again, “you mean it?”

  “Yes.” Orion said. His hand reached out and they sat together, hands firm in one another's. “Yes.” he said again, more firmly. “I believe, no, I know, they will accept us.” He smiled. “Then we can go back, and live together.”

  “But,” Hunter asked cautiously, “is there still place to live there? I thought...”

  “Well,” Orion breathed out, “there is some. Not much,” he cautioned, “but some.” He paused. “Some of us, when we heard the call of the planet, acted on it. Set aside some land, protected it. Kept it safe. Our own state, where ethics rules.” He smiled. “We call it Heartland.”

  Hunter breathed out. “So,” he asked, cautiously, “there is room for me, there? For us?”

  “Yes.” Orion agreed. He leaned in and kissed his hand. “Heartland is where we are headed. Where you belong.” He paused, as their lips clung together. When they sat back, they were both damp with tears. “Where you both belong.” He added. His hand reached across and touched Hunter lightly on the sternum, reaching down for where their child rested in his belly.

  “No.” Hunter corrected, smiling and crying both at once, not caring that he showed it so openly here, in this company. It was right. “No,” he continued, leaning forward, “Heartland is where we belong. All three of us.”

  Outside, the ship hurtled across the empty space of the Universe, travelling almost as fast as light. The stars burned and they sped past the debris of old planets and the nexus of new suns, and knew not what they passed. Inside, in the space of the ship between them, all they knew was one thing. They loved each other. They loved, they were together, and they were going home.

  THE END

  Pulsar

  Chapter 1

  The tall, silvered trees caught the last of the evening light as the night fell. Kai, walking alone through his father's palatial home, paused at the window to look down at the evening garden. The planet Cyanos was, by all accounts Kai had read, the fairest of all those to support life. That night, he had to agree. The aching beauty of the garden did not, however, suit the melancholy of his mood, and he scarcely saw the beauty of the scene beyond the windows.

  He sighed. “Twenty-two, and for what?”

  This was the day of his coming of age, but somehow Kai did not feel any different. In fact, a strange nostalgia seemed to have gripped him; almost a longing to go back to before, when he was still feckless, without any responsibilities or cares.

  The evening light caught the side of his face, making his profile even more beautiful. As all his kind on Planet Cyanos, his skin was a pale, dusky blue tone – the result of a copper-based blood system – but, while most of his countrymen had hair a rich, deep black, his was chestnut brown, and curled in soft waves to frame his gentle face, resting on those gently-carved cheeks.

  Even at the age of majority on Cyanos, two-and-twenty years, Kai had a gentle, youthful look; a boyish innocence in the soft contour of his face and full lips, and doe eyes, also paler than those of his countrymen, added up to create the impression. He was a breathtakingly beautiful young man.

  “Good evening, my lord.” A retainer greeted Kai in the strange native tongue of Cyanos as he walked down the stairs, heading to the central hall, where the last of Kai's guests were making ready to leave.

  “Evening.” Kai inclined his head, but could not hide the look of worry in his pale eyes. He looked out of the window again, at the breathtaking evening garden, and then sighed and walked on up the corridor to his father's rooms.

  There was a taper burning in the sconce where his father sat, bent over his table. The documents he was reading were called up on the surface, and disappeared as his father turned, hearing the footsteps at the door.

  “Evening, Father.” Kai said from the doorway. He looked down at the form of his father, his back slightly hunched, his thick, dark hair touched with pale strands now about the edges. No one knew exactly how old the patriarch of the Lorei – Kai's house – was, but now that Kai had come of age, he had suddenly noticed, palpably, how old his father was.

  “Good evening, my son.”

  Kai bowed respectfully as he took his seat opposite his father. Then, irrepressibly, he grinned.

  “That was some reception, eh?”

  The boyish smile transformed his face, giving it an intense sweetness. It was that smile that kept all the retainers on his side, despite all his petulant tantrums as a boy.

  His father smiled, a slow, nostalgic look.

  “Yes, my son. It was an evening to remember.” he turned in his chair, wheezing with the effort, and Kai leaned forward, reaching for whatever it was his father was trying to find.

  “It is well.” His father brushed his hand off, a little stiffly, and Kai sat back, mortified that he had caused offense by noticing his weakness.

  “Now.” his father began as he looked up and smiled, having located what he wanted in a drawer. It was a seal of some kind. “Look you here.”

  Kai looked. He looked down at the table, where his father pressed the seal.

  “This is my last will.�
�

  “Father...please...” Kai reached out a hand again, distressed. “You don't have to...”

  “I do.” The old voice was harsh. “I want you to read it.”

  “I...Crymen of the Lorei, first patriarch of this house...” Kai swallowed. He could not carry on. He cleared his throat and started again. “I...bequeath to my son, Kai,” he swallowed, “all that I possess. All lands, possessions and all titles which are mine by inheritance, shall pass to him upon my demise.” He stopped.

  “Read on.” The old voice was light as parchment. Kai swallowed and continued.

  “This, my son, Kai of the Lorei, shall only inherit said deeds, when he has mated with his destined partner.” Kai stopped. He looked up. “Father?” His voice was questioning. “You never mentioned this.”

  “I know.” The old man turned, the light from the taper soft on his profile. “I did not want to burden you with cares and concern.”

  “Father...I...” Kai swallowed. A mix of sadness, concern and excitement was bubbling up inside him. He knew he would inherit, that was true. But the excitement was about something else. His destined partner? He didn't know he had one! How wonderful. Who was he..? Perhaps it was...his mind ran through the list of his companions – carefully-selected youths of the courtly families of his own age – to try to guess who of them his intended mate might be. This was exciting! Why had he not been informed?

  “Father...I...” His eyes were shining.

  “Wait.” His father held up a hand. “You do not know all of it.”

  Kai felt himself suddenly concerned. What else was there?

  “This partner we speak of...” His father cleared his throat. “He is not one of us.”

  “Not one of us...but...father!” Kai swallowed. “He can't be...”

  “He is a human, from the planet...” Kai's father gave a list of complex syllables Kai had never heard. “The planet they call Earth.” He finished.

  Kai felt his heart sink. Human? His intended partner was a human? But they were primitive! They made war on each other! They carved up their land for fuel, and farmed it into desert. They ate flesh! They were cruel, brutish beings. Kai shuddered.

  “No.” He half-stood, horror and fear driving him to his feet. He looked at his father in a new light. How could he be so cruel? How could he have agreed to this? How selfish, unthinking, wicked...

  “No.” Kai repeated, voice unsteady with disgust and hurt. “Father, I can't! You can't. Please, change it!” His father could fix anything. He could fix this.

  “I cannot.” His father shook his head, eyes squeezed shut. Unbelievably, he was weeping. The tears made golden tracks across the seamed parchment of his skin. Kai, heart aching for him, reached out to rest a hand on his arm. He sat down. “I apologize, father.” he said, quietly. “Tell me.”

  There was a long pause. His father, his back to Kai, did not move for a long time. The only sound in the room was the slow burning of the taper, and the gentle sigh of the wind; the distant, almost-inaudible sounds of the last guests leaving.

  Finally, his father looked up and spoke once again.

  “This planet is dying. You know that.”

  “Father...I...”

  Crymen cleared his throat, and continued. In the room, the candle cast wavering shadows across the table, bathing his lined face in bright gold light.

  “This planet is dying. We, of the ancient houses have...responsibilities. We need to ensure the survival of our race.”

  “Yes...” This idea was not new to Kai, having heard it from instructors almost since he could walk. He knew there were experiments being carried out to try and optimize the genetics of his race; make them robust and able to live in different environments; but he knew nothing of what those experiments entailed.

  “Well,” his father paused. “We need to set the example. Which is why, since before you were born, we agreed to this...crossing.”

  “Crossing? Father, I...”

  The older man held up a hand for silence. When Kai swallowed, blinking hard, he was surprised when the hand descended, patting his own.

  “My son, I know this is hard. I know what you want – to stay here, and grow strong and enjoy your youth in this garden with your companions. I want that, too. But it cannot be. The survival of our planet may depend on what you do here and now.”

  “What must I do?” Kai asked, voice breaking. He had already guessed, but he needed to hear it said aloud, by this old man – the one person he respected absolutely.

  “You need to leave here, and seek the mate that was promised you. I know his name; we have his coordinates. We have been watching him for years.” Here, the old man's face wrinkled into a smile. “In doing this, I sometimes wonder why the Council picked him, though I myself was consulted at the time, and agreed. He seems...unpromising, at first. But he has unusual qualities. And I think they will come to the fore, now that he, too, is older.” His father smiled again. “It will be your job to bring them out.”

  “Father...I...” Kai felt that his head was reeling. It was too much to understand. His father paused, and then continued.

  “You will find this man, and pair with him, and bring him here, to be your partner in all things, in the sight of our people.” The hand descended again, patting Kai's cheek; a touch as dry as a whisper. “I know you can do it.”

  Kai sat silent, head bowed. When, a moment later, he stood to take his leave, his cheeks were wet with the shadow-tracks of tears.

  He would find this man. He would do as his father asked. But now, as he walked the silent corridors of the palace, it seemed as though his promise were a death knell for himself and all he wished.

  Chapter 2

  The day sank to its gritty end of dusk, as Callum stood from behind his desk and stretched. The evening was smoggy and foggy and cold. He shivered, and reached for his jacket.

  “Time to go.” He said to the empty room, and reached for his briefcase.

  At this time – six o' clock – the laboratory was almost empty. Callum was one of the few researchers at Hallbright Cell Technology to stay on past five in winter. He sighed. Callum, contrary to the rest who worked there, loved his work. A biologist, he was working on developing affordable cell lines for use in medical tests – no more laboratory animals. The work was involved and needed lots of patience and care, but it was worth it, and, for Callum, fascinating too.

  Now he stood, and stretching the last ache from his limbs, he wrapped his scarf on and prepared to walk out into the harsh evening.

  “It's damn freezing out here.” He said to himself, walking over the parking lot and out into the street. He lived at an apartment building just around the corner, but he had to admit to himself that it was not a great place to walk alone at night. The area was rough, and had become even more dangerous of late.

  “Evening.” A particularly scruffy beggar inclined his head to Callum. Callum sighed and found a coin or two in his pocket. He had left them there just for this, having an informal arrangement with this man. Callum paid him a dollar or two whenever he saw him, and the beggar kept other, less savory customers, away. Besides, he rather liked the wily old ruffian. His devilish smile lightened many a dark evening walk home.

  “Evening.” Callum grinned, and passed the coins across.

  The man smiled back, showing blackened teeth under surprisingly bright eyes. “Thanks.”

  “No worries.” Callum said, sincerely, and walked on. He felt better, the interaction lightening the strange mood that seemed to have descended during the morning.

  A block later, and he was home. He walked up the steps, gagging slightly at the smell – someone seemed to have used the stairs as a latrine the previous night – and went up two flights to his front door.

  “Dinner.” He threw his bag onto the chair by the door. Coat and scarf he hung up at the doorway, and then went through to the bedroom. He changed his shirt for an old, comfortable t-shirt, and went to the kitchen.

  Collapsing with a c
up of tea on the big armchair, Callum looked out of the window into the dark fog outside.

  He still felt the tendrils of the melancholy that seemed to have been haunting him all day. It was...loneliness, he guessed. Somehow he felt so alone, so empty. What was the point?

  Sure, he told himself, he was doing great work. His boss liked it, he had written some papers, and the results could change the lives of so many. That meant a lot to him. But it wasn't really fulfilling. Nothing could replace the sense of something absent, the longing to share his life with someone, who simply was not there.

  “You're silly, Dr. Coleridge.” He told himself. “What more do you want?”

  He did not know. He looked around the apartment. It was not bad – he had, in fact, taken care about the furniture and décor he chose. The location was not the best, but he wanted to live close to work, so he could go in at any time if needed. It was, in all other respects, pleasant. He was well-paid, comfortable, and he liked his work. What more did he want?

  “Come on, you. You need some food.” He reprimanded himself, and walked through to the kitchen.

  With the pasta bubbling on the stove, and the sound of classical music crackling on the radio in the other room, things felt a little more pleasant, and Callum felt himself start to relax. His mind wandered, filling in the latest reports, planning a new paper...

  “Damn.” Callum dropped the knife, where he had been cutting meat to go in the pasta, and walked over to the towel-rack. His finger was cut quite badly. He wrapped it in the hand-towel and went to the bathroom, to find plasters.

  “Damn and hell...” Callum breathed out and squeezed antiseptic onto the cut, and bandaged it. He looked up, catching his own eye in the glass front of the cabinet.