by Presley Hall
The debate erupts again around me as I struggle with my feelings and the logic of what’s best for the people here on Kalix.
The safer option is to stay and improve our defenses. It may, in the long run, save more lives—both the general population of Kalix and the warriors—but only if the Orkun don’t develop tech beyond what we already know about now, or build up their army even more.
If we attack, we will lose warriors.
It’s inevitable, and the loss may be great.
We knew that when we joined, I want to say. Every male on Kalix who has trained to fight has vowed to give his life if it means defeating the Orkun—and the Alpha Force most of all.
But I can’t fault Tordax for wanting to preserve the lives of his men… especially if we’re not certain of victory.
The threat of what might be in development on Oryn—in particular, the potential for more biological weapons like the virus that killed nearly all Kalixian females—shifts several voices in favor of attack. Vrexen and Zhori are nearly twitching with eagerness. But ultimately, when the table votes, the fact that Kalix has pregnant women again sways the deciding vote toward improving the defenses of our home world rather than attacking.
I am one of those who votes to attack. The time is ripe, I know it. But my long-honed discipline keeps me from showing even the slightest hint of disappointment when the vote sways for defense.
Khrelan has the final word on the decision, vote or no. But we all know which way he will go. He has always been a king who listens to the voices of his people, and in a case like this, he will choose to follow the majority. He has rarely diverged from that course of action in the entire fifteen years of his rule.
“We defended the planet against the Orkun recently,” our king says with a heavy sigh. “We can do it again. We will use the information my brother has brought us to build better defenses against our enemy, to prepare our ships and improve our shielding technology so that when they come, we will be ready. Because I do believe they will come again, and likely soon.”
He pauses, running a hand over his jaw. “A direct attack is too dangerous and could lead to a loss of life too great to endure. I cannot risk our best fighting force in this way. If we were to lose, Kalix would be left more vulnerable than before, with the threat of the Orkun still looming.” He stands up. “It is decided. Brele, Tordax, Malav, I leave the finer details to you.”
Everyone is careful not to either cheer their victory or bemoan their defeat until we’ve all left the council chamber. Khrelan has never been one to permit either sore losers or arrogant winners. But as we file out, it’s clear from the expressions on the warriors’ and council members’ faces who is pleased and who is not.
I tell myself that I don’t feel one way or another, that I voted based on the information at hand, and that my duty is to follow the orders of my king and my commander. Of course that is what I will do.
But I can’t shake the visual of that moon, Oryn, from my head.
As I go about the rest of my day, the map keeps reappearing in my head. I can’t seem to shake loose the image of the moon glowing in the center of the table as Brele touched it. It sticks in my head as I eat my evening meal, even as I try to meditate.
Finally, frustrated, I stand up and face the window, looking at one of our two moons as it hangs high and bright in the clear Kalixian sky.
Somewhere out there is the Orkun moon, Oryn, and on it are all the tools that the Orkun need to harm my people even more than they already have.
I grit my teeth as I picture it again. I imagine the endless work happening on that weapons base for the sole purpose of allowing the Orkun to dominate other planets and races. Kalix is not the only place in danger from them. They will attack any planet they wish to gain resources from, or even just dominate and control.
How many other species have fallen to them? How many other women and children have died at their hands?
It’s only a matter of time before the Orkun learn that we’ve bonded with the Terran women, if they haven’t already. When they discover that and learn that we are reproducing again, they will strike fast and hard.
Emotion bubbles up in me, hot and thick, and I can’t stop myself. I can feel the bonds of my discipline slipping as I stride across the room to my interplanetary comms device before I can stop myself, tapping in a code that I haven’t used in a very long time.
The holo springs up, the signal wavering as it tries to contact the code I’ve entered.
I think at first that he isn’t going to answer. But after what feels like an eternity, during which time I almost convince myself to shut off the comms and go back to trying to complete my evening routine, a familiar face swims into view on the holo-projection.
“Tycran.” I can’t tell if Aran is pleased to hear from me or not. “It’s been a long time, old friend.”
“It has,” I agree. “I need a favor from you, if you’re able.”
His mouth twists slightly, a funny thing to see on his thin-lipped, green-hued face with rough textured skin. “I do owe you one.”
Years ago, Aran’s planet was attacked by the Orkun while the Alpha Force was there finishing a deal for goods that we had paid to have him smuggle past the Orkun blockade. He and several of his fellow smugglers, as well as the soldiers of that planet, fought with us to defend their home against the Orkun—and succeeded. Aran was nearly killed in the fight, but I saved his life.
I would never hold such a thing over him or demand that the debt be repaid. But I hope that he will help me anyway.
“This favor—how dangerous is it?” he asks finally with a short laugh.
“Not very, as long as you are cautious,” I promise. “I need you to run scans on a moon called Oryn for me. I can’t tell you why, only that it’s very sensitive and needs to be kept secret.”
Aran frowns. “That’s an Orkun moon.” He steeples his long, five-knuckled fingers on the surface in front of him. “If I do this, will it hurt the Orkun?”
I smile at that. I can’t help it. “It very well could,” I tell him.
“Well, then.” He grins widely, his lips stretching over pointy teeth. “You’ll have those scans, Tycran. I give you my word.”
5
Lucy
For the next few days, I do my best not to think about Tycran.
I try to notice other Kalixian men when I’m out walking, telling myself that I shouldn’t focus so much on just one man, especially when I’m not even looking for a relationship. The problem is that every time I see a man I find attractive, I immediately compare him to Tycran.
And I don’t know how to stop.
“There’s a street festival tonight,” Emma tells me after the afternoon pole class I taught finishes up. “Most of the women are going, I think. You should come too! There will be street vendors and dancing, and some of the best food you’ll ever have. I’ve never been to one, but Khrelan tells me they’re amazing. Loud and colorful and a lot of fun.”
I’ve never been one to turn down fun. And the last thing I want to do is sit in my pod for another night, trying to distract myself from thoughts of Tycran.
So after the class breaks up, I go back to my pod and bathe, changing into a long red silk skirt with a slit all the way up to my hips on either side. I also put on a matching silk top that wraps over my breasts and has ties that wrap around my bare midriff. The brightly colored embroidery on it sets off my light blonde hair and blue eyes beautifully. After slipping on some leather sandals and gold jewelry that clinks at my wrists, I’m ready to go.
Outside, I meet up with Cora and Rose, the latter of whom is wearing a soft pink dress that shows off her growing belly. She smiles at me when my gaze flicks to it, touching her rounded stomach.
“Not long to go now,” she says with a laugh. “I’m more than ready to meet the little one. At least the weather is cooling off.”
Kalix’s autumn season seems to be in full swing. The night air is just cool enough to be pleasant
, and a soft breeze blows. My heart feels lighter as we walk down the stone streets toward the main square of Jocia, the first notes of music drifting through the air toward us.
There are times when I miss the place that used to be my home—the loudness of it, the constant hustle. No matter the time of day or night, there would be people out drinking, partying, gambling, ready to risk it all for a moment’s rush. I loved the chaotic energy of Vegas, but since landing on Wauru, and now coming to Kalix, I’ve started to appreciate a different way of life.
I take a deep breath, glancing at our surroundings. The air is fresh and clear here, without the scents of smoke and sweat and perfume and cologne. I can see the stars in the sky without the bright lights obscuring them, and I can hear the sound of music and chatter and laughter drifting through the air, without the sounds of cars honking and brakes screeching.
I’ve hustled nonstop since I was eighteen. I worked long hours as a dancer, hours that took their toll on my body and my mind. When I wasn’t dancing, I was partying or shopping or working side gigs as a model. Sleep was something that was in short supply. But here, I get a full night’s sleep every night. And I have friends—real friends who don’t have ulterior motives or want something from me other than company and camaraderie—for the first time in my life.
All things considered, coming to Kalix might be the best thing that ever happened to me. It’s given me a change of pace I didn’t even know I needed. The festival has a little bit of what I’ve been missing though—it’s got that loud, chaotic energy of people out having fun, forgetting their worries for a night.
The unrest over the arrival of the women from Earth and the emergence of the bonds, as well as the fear from the Orkun attack, seems to have receded, and the celebration is in full swing when we arrive. The air is full of the scent of cooking food from street vendors, laughter echoes around us, and the atmosphere feels full of hope and joy.
I can feel my spirits lifting even more, and I smile at Cora, who’s walking beside me. “Come on, let’s explore,” I say excitedly, and we plunge into the crowd along with the other women.
A group of musicians are playing, and a crowd has gathered around them. The mated women quickly disappear into the throng, looking for their men. Several of the single ladies ask some of the Kalixian men standing around to dance, and they all accept, heading into the growing group of dancers.
As if drawn by a magnet, I spot Tycran immediately. I slip through the crowd to where the Alpha Force warriors are, looking up at him with a smile as I get closer. “Hey, Tycran.”
He glances down at me, seeming almost startled that I spoke to him. “Lucy.”
His tone is emotionless, and I bite back a huff of frustration.
“Want to dance?” I sway my hips a little, reaching out for his hand. “Do you dance at all?”
“Not usually.” His eyes linger on mine though, and I take that as a bit of encouragement.
“You should give it a try. I’ve spent most of my life doing it, so I can show you the ropes.” I grin brightly, still swaying toward him. The silk of my skirt swishes around my ankles, parting over my thighs so that most of my long, toned legs are visible. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”
His eyes darken just a little, the pale blue of his irises shifting to a deep aquamarine. He takes a step toward me, and I almost feel his intake of breath. His gaze never leaves mine for a second as his hands land on my hips. As I lean a little closer to him, his fingers dig into my skin, his hands gripping me tightly as his eyes bore into mine, and I see his throat move as he swallows hard.
Heat flares up in me. His hands are broad and strong, scratching roughly against the silk of my skirt, and desire floods me so suddenly that I’d probably stumble if he weren’t holding onto me. I feel like I can’t breathe as I look up into his eyes, and the deep ache of arousal fills me.
I want him to kiss me. No, I need him to kiss me.
I need it like I need to breathe.
Tycran takes a deep breath, his nostrils flaring, almost as if he’s smelling me. The strangeness of it doesn’t faze me. Everything about this place is strange, but I’ve learned to embrace it. And I want to do the same to him… I want to do everything to him.
For this brief moment while he’s touching me, it’s as if nothing else exists. The music, the crowd, the dancers, the smells and sounds of the festival exploding all around us… all of it fades away. It’s just Tycran and me, and the powerful grip of his hands.
And then, as quickly as he stepped forward and grabbed me, he lets go as if I’ve burned him, his face turning dark and hard. He spins on his heel, stalking away from me, pushing through the crowd as if he’s desperate to put as much distance between the two of us as he can.
What the fuck?
Without thinking, I head after him, desire replaced by confusion at his sudden, sharp rejection. One second, he was looking at me with something very much like desire, touching me the way I’ve dreamed of far too often, and the next, he looked at me as if he hated me. I want to know what the hell is going on.
I quickly realize that Tycran isn’t just going to a different part of the festival. He’s trying to get away from the whole damn thing. He doesn’t slow his pace until he reaches a quieter side street on the fringes of the celebration, and I slow down as well, trying to get my breath back as I catch up to him.
He glances over his shoulder and sees me. He stops, his face still dark as he turns to face me, crossing his arms over his chest.
“What the hell is your deal?” I explode, my hands on my hips.
Hips that he was just touching like he wanted me more than anything in the world.
“My deal?” He raises one eyebrow, and it’s absolutely infuriating.
“I see you looking at me sometimes!” I snap, my brow furrowing with hurt and confusion and irritation as I look up at him fiercely. “I see you looking at me with this… this unreadable expression. You’ve got to know I’m interested in you by now. I haven’t exactly been shy about it! So what is your deal? What the hell do you want? Do you want me to try harder? To back off? Do you really not like me?”
I pant after the last sentence, out of breath from my rant.
Tycran just looks at me with that same stoic, marble expression, the one I can’t seem to read, and it makes me want to reach out and shake him. Or kiss him. I can’t decide which one.
“Do you hate me?” I ask, and I’m embarrassed to hear my voice wobble a little on the last words.
I truly don’t know what I’ve done to make him so inflexibly cold toward me. Tonight was the first time he’s shown any real signs of thawing toward me, besides politeness and the occasional slip of his eyes.
“Because sometimes you act like it,” I finish, my voice dropping low.
I suddenly feel tired and defeated. I don’t know why I’m putting so much effort into one man. Don’t know why I’m setting myself up to be rejected like this.
He doesn’t say anything. Not a word. Just stares down at me with inscrutable eyes.
Swallowing, I shake my head and step back, blinking against the tears that burn the backs of my eyes. I’m embarrassed, frustrated, and oddly hurt—more than I should be, I know. We don’t mean anything to each other, not really. But my heart aches in my chest, knowing that when I walk away from him this time, that’s it. I’m not going to keep making a fool out of myself.
Tonight was supposed to be a fun, happy night, but now I just want to go home… and I don’t know if I mean back to my pod, or home. Back to Earth, where maybe things weren’t perfect, and maybe they were very superficial, but at least I knew what was going on. At least I knew what my place in life was.
But just as I turn to leave, I feel his hand close around my wrist, solid and warm.
I stop, my gaze flying up to his.
6
Tycran
What the desh is happening?
I’m holding Lucy’s wrist, and she’s looking up at me, her wide blue eyes fixed on
mine. My heart is suddenly galloping in my chest, in a way usually only reserved for battle or intense moments of training.
I don’t know why I stopped her. I could’ve let her go, and I would have had some peace. I could’ve gone back to my pod, and maybe my stubborn refusal to entertain her flirting would have been enough to make her set her sights on some other Kalixian. Gods know there are enough of them starving for female attention.
But I didn’t. And I don’t know what to do now. I don’t know what compelled me to take her wrist.
I don’t know what compelled me to touch her in the crowd, to grab her in that way. I’ve never touched a female like that. In fact, it’s been years since I touched one at all. Even Lucy, alluring as she is, hasn’t managed to distract me enough to make me drop my guard and break my avoidance of such things. But the way she was swaying her hips, and the scent of her…
Just the thought of it makes me painfully hard, and I grit my teeth, trying desperately to ignore it. I don’t allow myself these distractions, these pleasures.
I could smell her arousal, back there in the crowd. I could smell how much she wanted me, see the way her mouth dropped open slightly…
Krax. I force myself to stop thinking about it. To master it. To bring myself back under control.
But it feels almost impossible to let her go. As if I’m frozen in place.
Finally, after what seems like an eternity of her deep blue eyes fixed silently on mine, I manage to speak, my voice low and gruff, trying desperately not to betray the state of my arousal or the sudden need that’s sprung up in me, a need that I’ve buried for many years.
“I don’t hate you,” I tell her quietly.
