by V. K. Ludwig
She shivered in my arms. “What about the other one who is still alive?”
“Zavis da taigh Broknar is wanted for alleged murder and has been living in exile on the amnesty planet Odheim for many sun cycles now. Scholar Maris is acting Warden in his stead.”
“Alleged murder?”
“It’s complicated,” I said. “There are Vetusians out there, Eden, who would like to see him executed. Just as some will not be happy about you carrying my child.”
“Why not?”
She kept her eyes on mine when I stopped wading, leaning my back against the outer edge. “I hold four votes since I am a true-born Warden, whereas the other two Wardens act as placeholders with only two votes each. It gives them a great disadvantage whenever we cannot agree on a course for the Vetusian Empire.”
“And an heir won’t make it easier for them.” The room cooled by a degree. “What if it’s a girl?”
“Then she will be cherished, and one day be a Warden.”
“Females can be Warden?”
“We had many great female Wardens before we lost them all.”
“Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit.” A giggle vibrated against my chest. “With the way you kept carrying and dragging me all over the place, I figured women probably have little to say in your world.”
“Rank structure is fundamental to us and goes beyond gender.” I turned and pressed her against the edge, her legs wrapping around me all on their own. “You are a Warden's mate, powerful enough to command every Vetusian you meet, except for the other Wardens.”
She circled her hips, rubbing her sex over the muscles on my stomach. My mate had developed a hunger for me since I first mated her. One I fully intended to sate.
“You said earlier that you can’t deny me anything I ask,” she said, her voice almost a moan again, turning me hard once more.
“My mate wants something of me.”
“You’re not gonna like it.”
“Try me.”
One deep breath later, she stroked her wet fingers through my hair. “Assuming the Wardens would agree to the adoptions. Could you and I adopt one as well? Now that we agreed you’ll stay?”
I hesitated, counting the frown lines growing on her forehead. “I was told pregnancies can be difficult on a female’s body and mental constitution.”
“You’re making it sound as if it’s a disease,” she said. “If I managed nurseries with up to thirty-one infants at one point, I sure as hell can handle two.”
“Tell me why. Because you wish for a child?”
She took my hand into hers. “It’s not about the child, Torin, but about what it would represent. When I met you, I committed myself to a deal. I want us to be more than that. I want to show that I commit myself to Garrison Earth. To your kind.”
I wasn’t sure if I was ready to be a father. Or if I’d ever be, for that matter. But I liked the idea of supporting Eden after everything she had done for the crop.
“I’ll think about it.”
Chapter 20
Torin
“Are you certain about this, Torin?” Nifal asked, walking beside me along the upper deck of Ardev Five. “You know as well as I do the Wardens will not agree to adoptions. Should you really take such a great risk?”
My reassuring nod did little to ease his frowns. “I shall concern myself with the future risk once it is due. For now, I want to see the crop placed with families. Surely, if I am willing to adopt one of them, other Vetusians must feel the same.”
Resignation huffed from his chest. “How is Eden this morning?”
“Each passing day eases her grief,” I said. “Her excessive need for touch concerned me at first, but it seems to give her much comfort.”
“Are things improving?” he asked, pausing his steps to examine my reaction. “Between the two of you?”
I want you to stay. “Much improved.”
A warm sensation expanded through my ribcage. Eden had the power to break my chains of control, unleashing what I had spent my life tucking away so tediously. But no matter how my body vibrated with rage and my fingers tingled with roughness, she calmed it all with little more than her presence.
For the first time in my life, I walked this hallway to my bridge, feeling a little less broken. A little less defective. A little more deserving of her.
“We are quite certain she is carrying my child,” I said, pride swelling in my chest. “She is many days behind her expected bleeding and exhibiting early signs of pregnancy.”
“Is she?” Nifal chuckled low, hands clasped against his chest, and yet it didn’t contain their excited quiver. “An heir to the house L’naghal. Ask healer Melek, for she told me many times the Vetusian has her trust.”
“I do not approve of him.”
“And yet your disapproval does nothing to trouble her. If she is comfortable around him, then he should be the one tending to her.” He ignored my grunt, not leaving any room for discussion as he changed the subject. “If only we could prove Zavis’ innocence, so that the two of you may restore the power of the noble houses.”
“You still believe he is innocent?”
“Most certainly,” he said. “You have done well by finding Eden, Torin. She has the strength to stand up to her role as the mate of a Warden.”
“I do not wish to involve her in our tiresome politics.”
“You know as well as me it will be unavoidable,” he said. “Her resilience and kindness are a curious combination indeed. One, I believe, will serve you well during this transition.”
We turned onto my bridge, where warriors and engineers greeted me with salutes and bows. The former state of Virginia extended through the window in front of us. Leaves blossomed in shades of orange and red, the foliage shedding to the ground one by one. It was stunning to behold, and so unlike Cultum, a planet without seasons.
“Commander, sir,” a warrior said, “the Wardens have arrived a while ago and are waiting for you in the conference room.”
I dismissed him with a nod and walked over to the massive double doors, taking a deep breath and slowing my pulse before I approached it.
Hands clasped behind my back, posture strong, I entered the conference room with my chin held high. “Honorable Wardens, please excuse the delay, but we all know how busy the hallways of Ardev Five are these days. I hope your travels were accommodating?”
“Torin da taigh L’nghal,” Warden Mares said and bowed, if never quite deep enough, only slightly rising from his chair. “You left us waiting for so long, we feared you might have forgotten.”
“How would I forget a meeting of such historical importance?” I asked, performing a motion of respect where none existed.
Warden Odil rose and bowed, tapping his chest and forehead, before he let the cosmic gesture wave out toward the ceiling. “Torin da taigh L’naghal. It is good to see you well.”
Oh yes, I was well.
Better than ever before in my life.
I sat down across from them at the head of the table, while Nifal took the chair beside me, bringing my attention to Odil. “I take it you have recovered from the incident at the infirmary on Seneca?”
“Ghastly business,” he said. “One might think execution serves as a deterrent for murder. What an inferior behavior, to kill another Vetusian in a fight over a female. As if there are not enough on this planet.”
“A large amount of Vetusians remain unmatched,” Nifal said. “When our ancestors left Earth, they split the gene pool. Time passes three times slower on Cultum than it does here. Only a few days ago, I heard of a young warrior matched to a human female in her ninety-third Earth year of life.”
I waved my hand over my com, making a holographic starchart hover over my wrist. “Over three million males without a mate. We shall execute the breeding contracts quicker. It will allow unmatched Earth females to earn a large amount of Imperial Credits fast, in exchange for carrying out a hybrid pregnancy. Vetusians without a mate will be able to cop
ulate, lowering the risk of prostitution, violence, and human trafficking.”
Mares leaned into his chair and folded one leg over the other, observing me from a raised chin. “Prostitution is unavoidable. Once the first unmatched females transition into their habitats, it is only a matter of time until some find they can make a fortune on our males.”
“I care little about what they do willingly with their bodies,” I said, narrowing my eyes at Mares. “But we shall continue to search all outgoing cargo, for I do not wish to find the females at one of the Odheim brothels, forced into prostitution.”
Mare’s posture straightened with undeserved authority, and yet the way he shoved in his chair betrayed his unease. The Vetusian Empire spanned over galaxies. Corruption was bound to exist but had spread its roots the deepest right in this room.
Despite my awareness it remained difficult to obtain proof. Mares had become one of the wealthiest Vetusians at the cost of others suffering, capable of bribing all agencies.
“Continuing to search all cargo requires budget,” Mares said, casually fussing with his manicured nails before he met my eyes with unfiltered aggression. “A budget you spent on giving all females held by the First Brigade daily leave of their rooms.”
Tension gnawed on my composure.
Yes, my mate’s negotiations had come at a steep cost indeed. Desperate to make her mine, I’d exposed myself to ridicule, allowing Mares to question my decision in public.
“The acceptance rate of all females in my care has increased by almost thirty percent since we established said daily leave,” I quickly justified. “They are more inclined to bond themselves than those not allowed to leave their rooms.”
Mares curled his lips back into a snarl. “Our troops are overworked, overtired, and many have fallen back into self-destructive habits. We dismissed almost three-hundred of them after guards found warriors and healers snorting souldust between shifts.”
“Souldust…” My jaw clenched at the word. “Somebody must have bribed someone at the agency for interstellar trade to open a supply vein to this planet.”
“I do not like the accusatory tone of your voice, Torin,” Mares said, running a hand down his green scholar robes. “Perhaps you should have ordered guards to search the incoming cargo as well. It is a shame there is no budget for it.”
“Yes, a shame,” I said through gritted teeth. “For I would very much enjoy finding the source that brings such disgrace over our formerly glorious empire.”
“We shall be glorious once more,” he said. “Reports state we have over three-thousand confirmed pregnancies with female offspring across the planet.”
To which I might contribute one more.
A hope I kept to myself, to save Eden the realities of just how fragile my power was. How Mares was only waiting for me to make a wrong step. I saw it in his eyes and how they narrowed to pinpoints. He watched and waited. For me to kill, to rape, to commit treason.
“The vote!” Nifal shouted into the room with his voice forced into something cheerful. “As Torin’s lifelong mentor, I am very proud to say I fully support his idea.”
Nifal shifted his weight and planted his hand on the armrest next to my chair served as an unspoken warning.
Adoptions. Right.
Mares clenched his jaw but eased back into his chair. And while I did the same, the pretense of our postures did little to eliminate the tension in the air, the crackling strain between us.
“Adoptions,” I said, resting a foot over my leg, and folding my hands in front of my chest. “I would like us to find adoptive families for the entire crop of the upcoming harvest.”
“Yes, I read the report.” Mares said. “Why would we do that?
“Nifal.”
“Many a reason,” my mentor said with a smile on his face. “All my life, I have worked with our crops, cared for their upbringing. Given the way they’re compromised, research supports the idea that placing them into loving surroundings will help them overcome their disadvantages.”
Warden Odil perked up in his chair. “I think I might be in suppo—”
“The idea is ridiculous,” Mares snarled, silencing Odil with little more than a dismissive gesture. “Why would we go through such trouble if the current model serves the purpose?”
“Placing them into human-Vetusian families will aid in the cultural transition, and the merge of our two species,” I said.
“Perhaps we should gather the numbers,” Odil said. “Taking a —”
“Who needs numbers for an idea so entirely superfluous?” With a screech of the chair legs, Mares rose and squared himself. “The Empire is wasting too many credits on sensibilities. We need offspring. We need to replenish our warriors after the three-cycle-war with the Jal’zar. Why would we concern ourselves with the cultural transition if absorption is inevitable?”
Heat trickled over my skin, making me clench the armrest of my chair. “Costs of establishing the program would be offset over time since the expenses for their upbringing will shift to the adoptive families.”
“What about their bionic limbs?” Odil asked.
I struggled against the way his question tugged my chin to the ground. “Bionic limbs require palathium and nanotechnology. A cost no family would ever be able to carry.”
Mares tsked into the room. “Another burden for the budget.”
“Torin…”
The moment Nifal’s warning tone broke through my conscience, I already had my feet planted in a wide stance. “Burdens on the budget are blessings to your illegal dealings, are they not?”
Mares placed a strong step toward me, hands fisted by his sides as he heaved. “How dare you speak to me in such a manner? I am an elected Warden.”
“Torin…”
I took slow, deliberate steps around the table and toward Mares, shrinking him, letting my full stature tower over him. “An elected Warden,” I repeated his words. “Not born. Not destined. Not worthy. Only elected.”
And just as I expected him to back down, Mares’ spine straightened some more. “Standing in for Zavis, who continues to escape justice by whoring around on Odheim, refusing to step off-planet. He is as useless and unpredictable as the rest of your defective crop.”
“Torin!”
Too late.
My fingers stiffened on his neck quicker than he could rasp in a breath. Rage stormed my veins. He dangled from my arm, desperate jerks making the fabric of his robes twirl all around him.
You should end him.
And be executed?
I carried him over to the window and pressed him against the cold glass, ignoring Nifal’s calming words, and Odil’s standard silence since he was nothing but a pushover.
I leaned my heated forehead against the cool moisture of the window, whispering, “One day, I shall find proof of your crimes against the Empire.”
The moment his body squeaked down along the glass, and his feet touched the ground, he swung his arms to his reddened neck. “You are insane, Torin. The leeway you allowed that female of yours is a disgrace, her influence over you nothing short of pitiful. You should never have taken a mate in the first place.”
“Would that not have been convenient for you?” I asked, lifting my hand to his neck once again, watching how a hard swallow trailed down his throat even without me making contact. “For my house to go extinct, so you may place another mute on my chair to do your bidding?” I tugged his collar in place where my rage had wrinkled it. “Never refer to her as that female of mine ever again. She is Eden da taigh L’naghal. And if you ever run the risk of forgetting it, at least remind yourself that I am defective… and terribly unpredictable. There is just no way of telling what I am capable of.”
“Torin!” Came once more from behind me, the voice of my mentor strict, demanding, and yet Nifal remained the only guidance in my life. And now Eden. “Remind yourself of why you called for this meeting.”
I took a deep breath, clasped my hands behind my back before they
could escape me once more, and walked back over to my chair. “I wish for us to take a vote on placing the Vetusians of the most recent harvest into adoptive families.”
“I vote no,” Mares barked.
He leaned over to Odil and whispered into his ear. Whatever words he chose made the other Warden pale, all color leeching from his skin.
“The costs associated with it would be too high,” Odil said, a thick swallow trailing down his scrawny throat. “I will vote no.”
“My mate and I shall take full responsibility for its promotion and execution,” I said, hating the way I had to expose myself to such degradation. “Eden will be more than willing to encourage other families to adopt. And I will pay for the expenses from my personal holdings.”
Mares and Odil exchanged a quick glance, but the shake of their head followed regardless.
I didn’t need to turn around to see the concerned look on Nifal’s face. What I proposed would put me in a weak situation. And yet I wanted those children to have the family our last generations never got to experience.
Perhaps they reminded me a little of myself.
They were compromised. Didn’t live up to the standards. And yet I knew they could find acceptance in their families, the way I found mine in Eden.
She understood what I was.
Knew of my failings.
And yet she allowed me to stay.
“Very well.” I stared out the window, gazing over the red foliage of what Eden told me was a maple tree. “Give me this vote, and I shall step aside during our next one in case of an impasse.”
The room stilled, aside from a whisper as the thin thread of power slip from my hands, if only temporarily.
A chill tortured the back of my spine.
Whatever the next vote involved, if Mares’ agreed, I’d have no say in it. No power. No way of interfering. And yet, it felt right in the light of the upcoming harvest.
Silence continued behind me, each second it stretched pulling the corners of my mouth higher into a grin.
