The Melier: Prodigal Son

by Poppy Rhys

  He scratched the back of his neck, the words uncomfortably tightening his scales even now. That night he’d shattered Jruviin’s lamp in a fit of rage.

  Val’Koy didn’t want her to give up. Not when they were so close to Melierun.

  “Zed, in the event of...” He swallowed. “In the event Dania can no longer sustain the pregnancy, how do I extract the younglings?”

  “Without Cap’s permission, I can’t tell you anything that would harm her.”

  Jruviin stepped into his line of vision, gaze hardened as if he couldn’t believe what Val’Koy was asking, but the Drae worried enough to stay out of his way.

  “It would not harm her,” he lied.

  “It would. It’s against my code to let you Edward Scissorhands’ my captain.”

  Val’Koy scrubbed his face, only understanding half of what Zed said these days without Dania to translate.

  Jruviin continued to glare at him and Val’Koy’s tail lashed at the floor. He had a way of really laying on the fucking guilt.

  “Stop looking at me like that,” he lowly growled. “I know you have thought the same.”

  “Thinking and doing are extremely different.” Jruviin glanced at Dania. “She would never forgive us.”

  “If she is dead, it would not matter,” he dryly retorted. Val’Koy hated himself for even saying it aloud, but when he looked over his shoulder to see River hunch down and sulk back to the bed, he felt like he’d kicked a nobu pup.

  He didn’t think River could understand him, but it was obvious he knew something was wrong.

  Jruviin shook his head—Val’Koy felt rightly scolded—before he made his way to stand beside the wolvenk and give his wiry scruff a pat.

  When had those two become friends?

  FIFTY-TWO

  JRUVIIN

  Tension ran high in the ship as they stationed above Melierun. Jruviin had only ever seen the planet, with its thick lavender cloud coverage and expansive landmasses, in holopictures when his past instructors brought up the Draekiins’ boorish cousins.

  Those lessons had been short.

  Jruviin stood beside Piktiin on the bridge, watching as Melierun’s military craft surrounded them. Val’Koy warned him of this. Jruviin heard the conversation he’d had with his queen mother. It was protocol, even if it made every Draekiins’ spine feathers aboard this vessel twitch.

  The military craft wouldn’t engage with their prince on board.

  “Never imagined a royal Melier would be on my ship,” Piktiin murmured low enough that only Jruviin could hear.

  He stopped his feathers from bristling. So, his father had figured it out. It wasn’t hard since only the royal bloodline had cobalt coloring, but it wasn’t common knowledge amongst his people. As he said, the lessons were short. No instructor spent time on their cousins’ culture. Not when they had violent topics and enemies to study. Nearly everything extra he’d learned concerning Melier, had been gained since meeting Val’Koy.

  Jruviin’s sense of urgency only tripled. He had to make sure everything went according to plan and that no one fucked this up by acting foolish.

  Ignoring his father’s remark, he asked, “Is the transport ready?”

  “Yes, it is prepped.” Piktiin turned to him then, the necklaces he wore clacking together. “Should I wait for your return?”

  Jruviin’s eyes narrowed. This side of his father continued to unnerve him. It was rare, in his life before Tundrin, that Piktiin hadn’t cuffed his head if he stood within arm’s reach, but the old Draekiin hadn’t laid a talon on him the entire trip.

  “I will not be returning,” he answered. “You already know this.”

  Piktiin gave one firm nod and spun on his heel toward the bridge exit. “You know where to find me if you change your mind,” he tossed over his shoulder.

  “I will no—”

  A series of tormented shrieks touched his hearing even this far away from his quarters. Jruviin broke into a run before his brain could register it was Dania. His body knew.

  ****

  VAL’KOY

  Today held hope. Dania had eaten. Not a lot, but enough, and she kept it down. She’d even been conscious for a while and smiled at them.

  He didn’t realize how much he missed her grin until it disappeared again when she fell asleep.

  Even the wolvenk seemed more alert after she gently stroked his tall ears and let him nuzzle her neck.

  Best of all, today was the day. They’d arrived. Dania would get the help she desperately needed.

  She stirred on the bed and his gaze strayed to her just before a foreboding scent hit his nose. He shot to his feet and her eyelids suddenly snapped open before her terrified, uneven screeching stabbed his fucking ears.

  Val’Koy careened over the chair and hit the floor, the power of Dania’s scream nearly incapacitating him. Vertigo gripped his body and he swayed on his hands and knees even as he attempted to get closer to the bed where she belted another of her harrowing shrieks.

  Something was wrong.

  River glanced at him and back to Dania before skirting to her side and covering her mouth with one of his enormous paws.

  “Mno, mno, mno,” she protested behind River’s hand, her legs tangling in the damp sheet...

  Val’Koy stumbled to his feet, gripped the sheet and tore it away. Blood smeared her pale thighs and soaked into the purple bedding, turning it black.

  Jruviin burst through the door. “What—”

  The scent of blood perfumed the air in a thick, nauseating wave.

  On instinct, Val’Koy scooped Dania from the bed, wincing when she squealed. Her body pulled tight with discomfort.

  They couldn’t waste any more time.

  “Is the transport ready?” he bit out, approaching Jruviin’s harried form.

  “This way.”

  The Therran in his arms lost some rigidity as he followed Jruviin through the dark ship. He glanced down to see her eyes rolling upward.

  “Dania, listen to my voice,” he coached, even as he felt warm liquid dampening his thigh, already soaking through the sheet wrapped around her lower half and transferring to him.

  She moaned, her dark orbs focusing on him for just a moment as if she were truly trying to stay with him and keep awake.

  “We have you,” Val’Koy soothed, trying to erase the worry from his tone as he carefully sat down in the transport.

  Jruviin grasped her hand, and the door shut as River boarded. Dania’s dainty fingers barely squeezed the Draekiin’s bigger hand before going limp.

  “Can we fucking go?!” Val’Koy shouted at the pilot.

  He tried to breathe deeply and grasp at some kind of fucking calm, but every gulp of oxygen was saturated with the rich scent of Dania’s blood.

  The control tower hailing them became background noise while he watched the pulse in Dania’s neck grow weaker. His keen sight singled out the flutter beneath her thin, silken skin as his thigh slickened further. Watching the life fade from his mate wasn’t how this day was meant to end.

  He’d been fucking hopeful!

  He was home—they were home. Help was within reach and they would be too damn late.

  “Dania?” Val’Koy leaned over to nudge her soft jaw with his nose, not daring to move any of his hands and cause her unnecessary misery. Her head lolled and the air in his lungs got trapped long enough to send a sharp pain through his chest.

  Val’Koy didn’t exhale until the soft jolt of the craft signaled its landing. Jruviin’s voice came from far away.

  “Val’Koy!” he shouted.

  Val’Koy snapped back to the present, urgency fueling him into action. He stood, stepping out of the transport—

  And he was suddenly surrounded by his family, but had no capacity for them. Dania, it was all about Dania. Eyes scanned, relieved to see the medical team right outside the palace steps.

  Dr. Trex and medic Tuzon snapped orders and Jruviin helped him gently lay their unconscious mate down on a hover-st
retcher. Not even one peep came from her—no sharp exhale, no groan, not a scream... nothing.

  He ignored every voice around him as he raced to follow the medical team, his eyes never leaving Dania laid out on that white bedding now smeared with bright splashes of crimson. Her blood was everywhere, and he feared he’d never be able to erase the scent from his memory or the vision of her damaged body from his eyes. It scorched into his soul.

  “I’m sorry, but you have to stay here,” a human nurse told him, but that didn’t stop Val’Koy. “Prince—”

  Jruviin’s hand clamped on his shoulder. The Draekiin blocked his path, one taloned hand pressing against his chest while the other grabbed the scruff of River’s neck, stopping the wolvenk. Val’Koy didn’t even have the strength to fight Jruviin as he watched Dania’s body disappear behind opaque doors.

  FIFTY-THREE

  DANIA

  From horrible pain one moment, to nothing but blissful void the next—all Dania’s memories had become foggy. It made for a strange coming-to as she slowly became aware of her existence once more. She stirred from slumber so deep and thorough that it was a starless vacuum of space, swimming in pitch with no burning suns to light the way.

  Beep... beep... beep... went the soft, steady hum of a machine, drawing her closer to the surface.

  Dania didn’t feel pain now as her eyelids cracked open, the feeling of grit making them itchy and dry. Shadows took shape, color, meaning. People.

  Hands slid into both of hers, strong and warm and textured. She’d know those hands anywhere, in any dimension, on any planet, in any life beyond this one—her mates.

  Two sets of black eyes peered at her, so close she could smell their unique scents and feel the weight of their gazes.

  “Hi,” she wheezed, her throat dry from disuse. How long had she been asleep?

  No... not asleep.

  Memories speared to the front of her brain and dropped her flat on her ass with the realization she’d been in the throes of losing the lives growing inside her.

  Dania grasped her deflated stomach, inhaling a gasp so long and deep, it nearly split her lungs. “My babies!” she cried, on the verge of hysteria. “My babies, my babi—”

  “Are alive,” Jruviin reassured, crooning to calm her.

  “They are safe now.” Val’Koy leaned in close, pressing his forehead against her temple and sighing. “You are safe now.”

  The awful clutches of panic eased its craggy fingers from around her chest and hope flared. “Where? Where are they? I-I want to see them.” She had been so ill for her entire pregnancy that she had barely adjusted to the possibility of little ones, and now, now... her babies lived?

  Another joined them, a human. Dania recognized him as a doctor by the clean white scrubs he wore, reminiscent of Dor Nye’s medical uniforms. He must have been the first human she had seen... in so many months.

  “Your vitals are fantastic!” he gushed, holding up a glass tablet and pushing the spectacles up the bridge of his nose. His warmth shone through even in his excitement. “And your younglings are doing fine, my dear.”

  “I want to see them!” She didn’t mean to be rude. It wasn’t enough for everyone to tell her that the babes were fine. She needed to see them.

  “Yes, of course!” He gestured to an aide across the room who brought a hoverchair. “I’m Dr. Trex, one half of your team.”

  “My team?” Dania sat up with the help of her mates, and prepared to feel the remembered pain, but nothing came. Only a slight feeling of lethargy with whatever lingering drug coated her veins.

  “Your medical team,” he said, just as another Melier appeared at his side. “This is your other doctor, Medic Tuzon.”

  Dania’s eyes roamed the Melier, his skin and scales a deep purple with kind, yet sharp, eyes of gray. His color startled her. As ignorant as it sounded, she hadn’t even considered that Melier might have different skin colors. Aliens didn’t frequently have such contrasting pigments within one species. Tones, sure, various shades of one hue within a species were common, but as she glanced around the med-bay, a rainbow of shades bustled about. Reds, greens, purples, and yellows. Val’Koy was the only one with dusky cobalt skin.

  “Nice to meet you.” She smiled, accepting Val’Koy’s help when he lifted her off the bed and into the hoverchair. Still, she felt no pain. She wiggled her fingers and toes, relieved to feel sensation. Her limbs weren’t numb or paralyzed, but everything felt odd.

  “The feeling will subside.” Dr. Trex winked as if reading her mind. “The nanobot technology is still doing its work, but you won’t feel a thing. I promise.”

  “Thank you.” He calmed the mounting anxiety. Her hand slid down Val’Koy’s arm, fingertips brushing against his textured, lightly scarred skin, that reminded her of soft leather. She grabbed his hand. Her mate gently squeezed.

  Jruviin took up behind her, guiding her chair as the doctors led them away.

  “This is a great time to be alive,” Dr. Trex excitedly rambled. “Excuse my eagerness to study you—”

  Val’Koy and Jruviin clicked a growl in sync, as if offended. Medic Tuzon’s mouth twitched, eyes alight with humor, while Dr. Trex rephrased.

  “—To study your case.” He cleared his throat, cheeks pinkening in his aging, yet vibrant, face. “You see, this is only the second instance of a human reproducing with a Melier, and the first—in our records at least—of a human and Draekiin successful coupling. In fact,” he adjusted his glasses again, maybe a nervous tick, and turned a corner, “it’s downright fascinating a Draekiin would even seek a human—”

  “You tread on thin ice, doctor,” Jruviin warned in a deadly, chilled voice Dania’d only heard him use against Trik and Raim.

  “A-apologies. I didn’t intend to offe—”

  “It’s okay, Dr. Trex.” Dania shot a warning glare at Jruviin but softened it by reaching up to gently pat his warm and feathered cheek. “They’re just protective. We’ve been through... a lot.”

  Dr. Trex, still a deep pink, kindly regarded Dania. “Are you ready to meet your younglings?”

  “So ready.” She bit her bottom lip and nervously tapped her fingers as they entered a large room. Medical staff moved about, monitoring various screens, operating devices, and going about their business, but Dania barely saw them.

  A cylindrical capsule rose from the middle of the glistening, pristinely white floor, and inside the pink-tinged fluid, suspended and clustered together, were her babies.

  Instinctively, she knew. Even if the room had been filled with incubating young, Dania would have known. An invisible tether drew her in, little fragments of her soul calling to her.

  Four. Dania quickly counted four.

  Her gaze bounced from one babe to the next, noticing the pale skin tone—a light blue that spoke to their alien roots. All had two arms, like a human. Two girls, two boys. Their puffy, squinted faces didn’t give any hints about who their fathers may be, but their tails did.

  Two had little nubs at the end of their tails. One boy, and one girl. Dania grinned. Those two were Jruviin’s. There was no doubt in her mind those nubs would grow into venomous barbs someday.

  The other little boy and girl were Val’Koy’s, then. It was a testament to how similar the Melier and Draekiin were—it was hard to tell the young apart in the womb.

  “Mine?”

  The word pushed into her head before she saw River peer around from the opposite side of the tube, body on all fours.

  He ran. His huge limbs crossing the room in a handful of strides before he skidded to a stop in front of her, his big fluffy head right in her face. “Oh, River!” she cried, arms sliding around his neck as she buried her nose into his warm, wiry fur.

  “Missed mine,” he pushed, his enormous gray tongue darting out repeatedly to wash her face in slobber.

  Any other time she might groan and trudge away in need of a bath, but not now.

  Dania kissed along River’s soft, bony snout, gripping his big wolf
y head and softly murmuring to him when his contented rumbles sounded like laughter. She squeaked when his long gray tongue nicked her ear.

  "I never thought I would be envious of a wolvenk," Jruviin muttered, hands tucked under his arms.

  “Where were you?” Dania huffed, wiping away a slobber trail from her cheek.

  “Protecting the young.”

  No sooner had he pushed the statement into her head than he turned and growled at an aide that got too close to the tube.

  River, as if forgetting all about her, quickly resumed his post next to the incubation tube, closely watching the aide that monitored the readings, seemingly oblivious an enormous wolvenk hawk-eyed his every move.

  “Anywhere the fledglings are, River is nearby,” Jruviin told her, scrubbing away a patch of slobber on her chin that she’d missed. “The medical staff has grown used to him.”

  “Even if he is a thorn in the—”

  “Hey.” Dania pointed a finger at Val’Koy. “Don’t you talk about him like that.”

  Amusement danced in Val’s eyes. She’d take that over the worry crinkling his features when she’d first awakened.

  Jruviin resumed his spot behind her and pushed her even closer until Dania reached out and could touch the glass. Instant relief and gratitude rushed through her. “Thank you for saving them,” she said to those around her, eyes watering. An incredulous laugh escaped as her mouth dropped open. “They’re so big.”

  Was she thinking correctly? Maybe she’d lost more time than she realized, because if she were judging by the size of a human fetus, her babies looked bigger than they should be.

  Dania reminded herself they were half alien. All bets were truly off.

  “We are big,” Val’Koy pointed out as if that were all the explanation needed, and Dania resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

  Men.

  “How much longer?”

  “Approximately ten weeks until they’ll be fully formed,” Dr. Trex supplied, voice brimming with scientific eagerness. His excitement seeped into her bones and her fingers twitched with the urge to touch them and not the glass.