Heavenly Claimed Boxed Set

by Bertina Mars

  Mira smiled. “I can be like that. My boss, Jak Newson, is worse than me. He can go days without eating.”

  “Then he would get along with Tyroc.”

  She didn’t doubt it, though from what Jak had told her in their last call, Tyroc was a “hotter mess” than he was. Mira couldn’t even picture what that meant. But soon she had the image right in front of her.

  Upon reaching the lab, Mira followed Ve Domina Viera and just entered on their own. The place was a small, unkempt room, hardly bigger than the lobby they’d been waiting in. It was dark, the windows covered with thick curtains.

  There were three large machines in the back, but their technology was different, and she had no clue what any of them did. In the center of the room was a large desk where two scientists sat, working over blueprints. One was writing on the blueprints, taking notes as the other spoke, making comments. The speaker, Mira recognized, was Tyroc.

  “Betinok Tyroc,” Ve Domina Jord greeted. Her hands were crossed over her lap and she wore a faint smile.

  The scientist’s silver-streaked head looked up, his eyes wide as he was stripped of his train of thought. “Ve Domina Viera,” he replied, startled. It took him only a few moments to realize he had given her the wrong title, still referring to the woman as a Queen Viera instead of Queen Regent.

  “Rather, Ve Domina Jord.” He looked at Mira and offered a small smile. It was hard to imagine that he, too, was old enough to be her grandfather, if not older, but now that he was making eye contact with Mira for more than two seconds, she could see there was a certain age about, an intellect that she noticed in Arzak’s mother, Viera, too.

  “Just Viera for an old friend, Tyroc.”

  “You were expecting us, weren’t you?” Mira asked. She’d sent the letter ahead of time, plus the assistant had told them so.

  He nodded. “Yes, sorry. Just got little distracted.”

  Tyroc’s English was broken, as was Viera’s, so Mira took up the native tongue. “What are you working on? If you don’t mind me asking?”

  It was nice to talk about her true passion for the first time in weeks, and the way that the scientist lit up, she wondered how long it had been since he’d gotten to talk about his passion. “Not one of my personal projects – an order by J’kar. He wants improvements warships.”

  Ve Domina Jord pursed her lips again. “Has my son approved them?”

  The scientist hesitated, twisting his fingers together as he looked nervously at the Queen Regent. “No. It was under my assumption that Officer J’kar would show the final product once finished, though.”

  The answer retrieved a sigh from her. Mira smiled politely, ready to get to her major point. “I believe you know why I’m here,” she said, “There were reports that you had for Jak Newson.”

  Tyroc lit up again. “Of course!” He turned and shooed the extra lab assistant – his only lab assistant by the looks of it. The entire lab was cluttered, but it was Betinok Tyroc’s own organized mess.

  He stepped over two crates to get to a desk on the far side of the room, flipping through the papers until his hands stopped. With folder in hand, he returned to Mira.

  “We ran studies on my people for our aging process when we first heard of other lifeforms, humans like you that age much more. It was one I ran personally, and I believe that Jak Newson will do great things for your kind with this information.”

  Too curious and eager, Mira looked through the files. They were reports on water levels, checking minerals, chemicals. Tyroc got samples of Earth water and several other humanoid planets, all of which did not have the same aging properties that Zethrad did.

  There was one chemical he found in the water that wasn’t in any of the others, and from then on, the reports were all about tracking down where that chemical came from. She was so engrossed in it that she completely missed the conversation that was going on around her, between Tyroc and Viera.

  She only came back to full attention when she felt the woman’s hand on her arm. “Come, Mira,” Viera told her. The blonde looked up with that same look that Tyroc had, wide-eyed and lost. “It’s almost sunset. Arzak will want you back for dinner.”

  Mira scoffed, “Our deal about the dinners is pointless now. That was part of the terms when I thought I was still being investigated for war crimes and terrorism.”

  Viera frowned, taking her hand off her arm. “They’re not pointless,” she said, then tilted her head towards Tyroc, “Tyroc has seen for himself. You have an effect on my son.”

  “I make him angrier?” she smirked.

  “If I may,” Tyroc interjected, looking more at Viera for permission than Mira, “At the last council dinner, I have never seen the Lord Commander so calm. Normally, he will side with J’kar instantly. J’kar was his father’s right hand, so it’s only natural, but…”

  “You distract him,” Viera finished, “And you make him think more. My son is a wonderful leader who wants to do great things for his people. But he is arrogant, and for a man that loves control, he has yet to realize that he is being controlled.”

  Mira sighed. She had to admit that even in the short time she’d known him, Arzak was less brutish to her now than he was before. When she denied him in the beginning, he’d been smug, like she was a little child that didn’t know what she wanted.

  Back when she was packing, he didn’t look at her like a child. He looked at her like a woman who was really, truly rejecting him for the first time.

  When she didn’t answer, Viera continued on. “You’ve shared a bed with him.”

  It wasn’t a question, and there was no embarrassment in Ve Domina Jord when she asked. The Zethradan people were not the blushing type when it came to talking about physical connections, but Mira was.

  She knew it was obvious, what with how loud they were, right by the front door. Their clothes stayed forgotten as they kissed their way up the stairs and into his room… And even for the rest of the night, the rest of the week, she hadn’t remained quiet. Arzak wouldn’t let her anyways.

  Any time she made an attempt to muffle her cries as they fucked, his fingers would expertly find her sensitive nub and make her moan even louder. “I… I,” she started in English, too shocked to form the words in Zethradan. Mira could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, “I don’t… Uh, I don’t know how to respond to that.”

  “Have you performed Zethrada’vass?” Ve Domina Jord pressed. There was an eagerness about her now, intensity to her question. But Mira didn’t know the term, nor did she know what was the right answer.

  Upon her hesitation, Tyroc could see that she was confused. He smiled softly. “As a scientist, have you noticed something about Zethrad?” Mira blinked, her gaze tearing from Viera to Tyroc.

  It was a much more comfortable approach than the previous, and she was grateful for it. Mira wracked her brain for what he might be thinking, but she couldn’t think of a one. “How many female Zethradans have you met while here, Mira?”

  She frowned, brow furrowing as she thought. But, really, the only female was Viera. Even in the city when she was walking around, and in the shuttle port, it was mostly men.

  “Zethrad has an issue itself, scientifically,” Tyroc said, “For every female produced, there are 8 males. There aren’t enough women to go around.”

  “And you are a beautiful, young female who has yet to go through Zethrada’vass. Or are you constantly ogled on your home planet as well?” Viera asked rhetorically.

  A shortage of females. Mira realized she really had been failing on her observational skills, on the hungry looks that the men looked at her with and the one important argument that Q’til had for the important on tourism. He wanted to bring more women. The blonde shook her head.

  Was that why Arzak wanted her so badly as well? He’d said there were other women, but it could have been a lie. It wasn’t like it would be the only time he lied to her. She should have felt comforted by the fact that everything was being explained finally, but she didn�
��t.

  When Mira was with Arzak, he made her feel in love with her own body. He was a strong, powerful man, and she had always been a little softer. Yet he was attracted to her. Now she was finding out that it was simply because there wasn’t that much to choose from anyways.

  “Mira, you may be the only thing keeping Zethrad from going into war,” Viera said, “A war that no one but our own bored soldiers are looking for.”

  She hated the fact that it was being pushed onto her, much like everything was with this trip. Mira hadn’t wanted to go. She hadn’t wanted to be on this mission.

  She hadn’t wanted to play diplomat. She just wanted the files, and those same files were the ones in her hands. “What am I supposed to do?” she asked.

  “Show him that Earth and the Alliance are not our enemies.”

  “Doesn’t Zethrad frown against working in the shadows, playing politics?” Mira shot back.

  Their capitol building was modeled after truth and clarity, after all. She was realizing that there was no escaping shadows though. Even with someone she thought was honest, like Arzak… They all had ulterior motives.

  Chapter Five

  The meal was tense. Arzak didn’t touch her at all at the table, and they sat in the formal dining room where they first started off with their routine dinners. It was some kind of meat and vegetable combo. Mira knew not to ask simply because she didn’t know the wildlife there.

  Arzak didn’t look like he was in the mood to explain it to her anyways. Instead, he played an intimidation game. He didn’t speak to her, but he made eye contact with Mira whenever he could, a harsh glare.

  Normally, she would have done it right back, but Viera and Tyroc’s voices were still in her head. Hell, even Jak’s advice was there, all of them telling her to play nice.

  She sighed, poking at the purple, crunchy side of her meat. “Did your mother tell you how our meeting went?” Mira asked carefully.

  “She said you got what you wanted,” Arzak replied stonily, stabbing at his meat.

  Mira nodded. “I did. My people… Well, they age. Age past what Zethradans do, and we’re trying to figure out how to stop it. It’s called the ‘Fountain of Youth’ on Earth. People have been trying to find some way for hundreds of years. Tyroc Valdek has studies that could really help bring us closer to why your people don’t but my people do.” She kept on talking.

  Though he was sensitive about Tyroc and her need for meeting him, it was the only thing that she had besides talking about the lies and J’kar himself. It was the only thing that she could think of to fill up the silence, and so she rambled on.

  “It’s algae, a plant found in your water,” Mira explained, “It takes in water and lets out a chemical that Valdek hasn’t found anywhere else. In his notes, he calls it Luirisna, but I think that’s a name he’s made up on his own. It freezes the shrinking of your chromosomes. So you can age up to maturation, but you never reach the stage where your cells begin to die.”

  She waited for a response, for anything. For the first time since she started talking, Mira looked up from her food, just as Arzak looked down. He chewed thoughtfully for a minute.

  “I’ve seen your elders,” he said slowly, and then looked back up, “Their skin wrinkles and sags. They lose their teeth and their hair. I can’t picture you like that.”

  Mira smirked. “I’d prefer you didn’t anyways. If my parents were alive, I’d suspect my dad would be pressuring me for kids by now. I imagine he’d like the idea of being a grandfather. My mom? She was a career woman. Probably would have wanted me to be frigid and barren my entire life.”

  “How old are you?”

  “27. How old are you?”

  “63.” Mira’s eyes roved over his face. He didn’t look it at all, nor would he ever if he kept hydrated and alive. He didn’t even act 63, but Mira expected that 63 were young in Zethradan years.

  Viera said that Tyroc had been on the council since her grandfather was Ve Dominok, and even then he would have had to be distinguishable enough in his career, older and wise, to have gotten a seat. He could be centuries old. And Arzak still had the body and youth of a 30-year old man. The same drives and hormones coursing through him.

  “You’d be old and wrinkled by now on Earth.”

  “Short lifespan,” he noted, tone clinical. She wondered if she still had to win him over some. Was he making observations so he could use them in a war? Was she aiding the destruction of her own kind? “Why haven’t you had children?”

  It was a personal question, but despite the fact that she felt like this was some sort of interrogation, Mira decided to answer him. She wiped her lips neatly and took a drink of water. Neither had accepted the servants’ offers of something stronger.

  “Because I was in love with my boss. And I had some silly idea that he would stop working long enough to realize it. That we’d get together and take over the scientific world together, I don’t know.”

  It seemed so foolish now, and really, now that she thought about it, she wasted a lot of her time on waiting for Jak.

  She watched Arzak tighten his grip on his utensil. “Jak Newson?”

  Mira swallowed. He cocked an eyebrow, glaring at her. He hates repeating himself, she remembered. “Yes. Jak Newson.” She decided to change the subject quickly.

  “We’ve been co-workers for years. The only reason he’s kept me around at this point, I think, is that he was such a huge fan of my parents. They were part of the last leg of the pioneer age. Used to go around and discover planets. I guess my job thought they passed along their diplomat skills in the DNA.”

  Arzak smirked at this. “I always thought biologists were smart.” Teasing, that’s good, Mira thought. It was that infamous smirk, but she would take it. It meant that things were going back to how they used to be. “What happened to them?”

  “Their ship’s engine failed. The last footage was them nearing a black hole before everything was cut out – I was 15.”

  “My father died in battle. He was trying to unify the neighboring tribes in the south, and they attacked his camp in the dead of night.” Arzak sighed. “It was… Dishonorable. Zethrad doesn’t fight like that.”

  Silence hung in the air as a reminder of their argument came back up. Mira wasn’t hungry anymore. Really, she wasn’t hungry to begin with. The minute she had the folder in her hands, Mira wanted to focus entirely on memorizing what was in there and talking with like-minded individuals. Speaking with Arzak about it helped, and he had seemed interested, even if only a little bit.

  “I won’t apologize for my actions,” he said suddenly, “You would have had it much worse had I left you in the city.”

  “What, because I’d be the only female?” Mira asked. She looked at him levelly.

  “Yes. If you hadn’t realized, we’re passionate people. We have strong urges. When urges go unchecked for a long time… Things happen. Choices are made.”

  “Choices are stolen,” she corrected.

  He frowned deeply. “I didn’t steal your choice-”

  “I never said you did.” She knew what he wanted from her. He wanted to hear her say it, boldly and clearly. Arzak wanted Mira to tell him that she wanted him all along.

  He was vying for control, maybe trying to save his own ego at the fact that he could be used instead of it being the other way around. But Mira didn’t. As much as she was trying to play “peace maker,” he had had his turn to ask questions. Now it was hers. “What’s… Zethrada’vass?”

  Arzak appeared stunned by the question. He took a moment to answer her, pushing his plate away. “You don’t know what that is?” he asked, “Where did you hear it from?”

  “I just heard it mentioned. I never read anything on it, no.” It was never covered in any of her studies of the planet before she got there, and it definitely wasn’t in the folder on her digital watch, at least not that she could remember. Mira never did get that back.

  The Lord Commander cleared his throat. “It’s… I tho
ught you knew. That was stupid of me, I see now,” he muttered, lifting his fingers to comb through his hair.

  Mira didn’t say anything, her silence urging him to explain. Viera had seemed so cavalier about it that she hadn’t expected Arzak to react this way. Out of the two, he seemed the bolder of them. “It’s a… Mating ritual.”

  Mira snorted. “What, like marriage? You don’t have to seem so squeamish about the idea,” she replied. Arzak was confused by the term “marriage,” so she explained to him the history of it, how it had started off as a way to trade women, family names, and potential for future offspring, all for peace and land.

  She gave a brief summary how it quickly became outdated, and how marriage was really only something for the religious now on her planet, the ones still stuck on tradition, and for happy couples that wanted to prove to each other that they really did love one another.

  He sighed, shaking his head as he tried to think of another way to explain it. “With Zethradans… We only have one true mate. The mate that performs Zethrada’vass. After that, you are tied to that person for the rest of your lives. That’s it.”

  It was why, though Viera was the true heiress to the Dominok’s seat. It was given to the man who could defeat all others in combat, and she was part of the prize as well. She didn’t receive it, nor did she retain it when her husband died. “It’s a bond, strong. Tyroc’s… Algae… Luirisna was his vassa, his mate.”

  Sad, she thought to herself. It wasn’t unheard of to name a new species, or star, or planet, after someone you loved, not in the science world. Jupiter’s many moons were named after a Roman god’s love affairs.

  “You’ve experienced it,” Arzak added, his eyes boring into hers, as he slipped into his native tongue.

  Mira stayed in hers. “What?”

  “Our first night, I held your hand in mine, and your body became one with mine. It was brief, not the full intensity. I realized what I was doing, and I stopped. But you’ve had a taste of what it feels like.”