by LC Morgans
“He’ll understand. That’ll be enough,” she said in answer.
The small team then helped the last of their thawed out new friends out of their beds while Kyra sat with Kronus. She refused to leave his side until he was fully himself again, but didn’t mind at all. She also didn’t mind that they had an audience. The humans who’d been woken the short while watched them with interest, listening to the pair of them chat and laugh together with such ease it appeared to sway the others to Kyra and the other migrants’ way of thinking. They were seemingly ready to embrace their future as Thrakorian residents at last and headed off to join the others in the upper levels of the facility.
When the room was finally clear, it was Kronus who shut off the power to the cryo-chambers and then they wandered out into the corridors leading back to the lab.
***
“What the hell was that with you and Kronus earlier?” Blue asked Kyra later when the dust had settled and he and the others had all been brought up to speed on the goings on at The Sanctum. Kyra fixed him with a determined stare.
“I saved his life,” she replied with a shrug. “You were just informed about the how’s and why’s of this research.”
“I get it, our mutated genes are the apparent cure for their Ehrad disease, but you said you weren’t positive?” They’d left out the full details regarding the use of her blood as a carrier, and Kyra guessed the holes were beginning to show regardless of their explanations. That, and the sight of her shooting up their former King with a vial of blood taken directly from her vein had to have left them with understandable questions.
“You hold the cure, but not the means with which to deliver it to the Thrakorian’s safely. Injecting the cure directly into Kronus or anyone else who has the disease wouldn’t do anything because the serum would be too potent. Like throwing a handful of aspirin at someone with a headache. It won’t go in and it won’t help them.”
“You need direct delivery, and a glass of water to wash it down with,” he replied, and she watched the understanding finally cross Blue’s face.
“Exactly. You and the others are the cure, but I’m currently the only carrier. My blood bridges that gap and helps the serum infiltrate the cells it needs to, otherwise it simply floats around in their system, not actually doing anything.” Kyra took a deep breath and reached her hands out to Blue, holding them in her own. “I can’t be the only one. I can’t live the rest of my life being the sole carrier for their vaccine. Our only hope is to allow you and the others like you to live. Your bodies should change and evolve over the time, like mine has, and then the full serum and carrier method should be present within your DNA.”
“And we’ll be drained on a regular basis, too? How nice,” Blue groaned.
“It won’t be like that. Thrayke is Chief of this facility, and I trust him never to allow any of us to be asked to give blood too much, or too often. I’m working with him and the team to create a blood bank. We’ll have a pattern so the blood can be taken at specific intervals and then stored. Until then, I’m the one who’ll be continually drained, but I’ll do it willingly.”
“He means that much to you?” Blue asked, and while Kyra wasn’t entirely sure which Thrak he was talking about, she chose not to question him.
“They mean that much to me. I saved King Thrakor’s life a few weeks ago, and would do it again in a heartbeat. Give them the chance to change your mind. Give them the opportunity to make you want to save them. It’s not about gratitude or servitude this time. It’s about control, and we have that now. We can control our destiny…”
“How?” he asked incredulously.
“By choosing to live. Not for them, but for ourselves. My life is slowly piecing itself back together and I won’t accept anything less than I know I deserve. My freedom was taken from me, but never again.” Kyra took a deep breath, shaking her head. “Never again.”
“How can I help?” Blue then asked, and Kyra knew she’d won him round at last.
“How do you want to help?” she countered, letting him know it really was more of a democracy as well as them being governed from above.
“I don’t mind assisting with food and stuff, but I want to do more than simply be a barman. I want to help those who need it.”
“Come with me,” she took his hand and led him across the room to where a handful of other human men were chatting with their newly appointed Head of Human Security, Tarquin McDermott. He’d come to The Sanctum the night after King Thrakor’s new laws had gone live and offered them his services. After working together in New Delhi and remembering how much Tarquin meant to both his sister Lasiandra and to Kyra, Thrayke had told her he had no doubts Tarq could be trusted and had immediately accepted his proposal. He’d then given him a quick briefing about the facility itself and Tarq had then spent hours catching up with his sister, before he and Kyra had sat together and talked about the changes in her as well. Tarquin was understandably shocked to hear how her life had gone since the last time he’d seen her, but didn’t pry. He’d instead congratulated her and Thrayke on their engagement and gone back to teasing her for being such a short-ass.
“Tarq, I’ve found you another recruit. This is Blue. He wants to help,” she told him, and the tall soldier grinned. He immediately reached forward and offered his hand to Blue, who took it.
“Thanks, midget,” he said with a cocky grin. “Great to meet you, Blue. We were just going over a plan to head a few miles south to close down a brothel Greegis once showed to Kyra. We’re heading straight out so haven’t got time to fully brief you, but if you’re serious about becoming a member of The Sanctum Guard, you’re welcome to come along?” Tarquin asked Blue.
“Count me in,” Blue said as he straightened and stood a little taller, staring Tarq right in the eye. Kyra was glad he was coming along to offer another pair of hands in support. She wasn’t really all that keen on going with them, but knew she was the only one Greegis had taken to the site, so had to show them the way. It wasn’t the thought that she might get dragged away into a life of slavery that she was running from, those days were thankfully over, but it was the memories she knew being in that place again would bring back. Memories of being given an awful ultimatum and choosing what she’d considered to be the lesser of the two evils. At least she had the men and women of The Sanctum Guard with her this time who she trusted with her life, and she didn’t hesitate to follow Tarquin’s lead when he informed the small team they were leaving five minutes later.
“I’ll let the Chief know we’re heading out,” she told them, and each of her comrades nodded in understanding, happy as always to let her do the talking. As she walked away, Kyra had to fight her smile. It made her laugh how they were all still so terrified of Thrayke and his reputation as a hardened Thrakorian warrior. None of them spoke to him informally, not even when he tried and failed to insist upon it during their time spent off-duty when he’d joined them all for meals and relaxation time. Living and working in the same cluster of buildings meant their rapidly expanding team were together at all times, and while Kyra guessed there’d always be somewhat of a divide between the humans and their Thrakorian Chief, she couldn’t deny being proud that he was still actively trying to fit in with her friends.
She knocked on his office and entered, remaining polite even with their ever-growing relationship. “We’re going down to the brothel now. None of the women I saw there have come here seeking refuge, but I can guarantee that none of them would have chosen to stay there. It’s time we stepped in.”
Thrayke frowned, anxious as always at letting her out of his sight, but he didn’t try to stop her. Instead, he pulled Kyra into his office with him and closed the door, taking a moment to wrap her in his arms.
“Do I need to tell you to be careful? And to hurry back?” he asked and she grinned up at him.
“You just did,” she replied and then planted a soft kiss against his lips. “I won’t be long.”
“Good. I don’t want to have
to come after you,” he teased, then let her go, but not without giving her ass a quick slap on the way. Kyra felt her cheeks flush with heat, and caught Tarquin’s smug grin as she reached him.
“Let’s pretend you didn’t see that,” she groaned.
“See what?” he answered with a wink.
Thanks to Kyra’s infallible memory, they reached the brothel before sunset and the team didn’t hesitate to storm inside. With Tarq leading the way, they headed straight into the large building and Kyra was glad to discover that while the women were still there, their clients weren’t.
“What’s the meaning of this?” the madam, Mariss, demanded. Tarquin ignored her. He walked around the huge place, informing the women he discovered cowering in the shadows that they should gather together in the center of the vast room.
“Ladies. You’re free, and yet you’ve remained here rather than come to The Sanctum. I would like to personally invite you all to come and live with us there, where you’ll be safe,” he said. He’d clearly stirred them with his rousing speech, however none of them moved a muscle. Not a single one met his gaze either, and so Kyra knew Tarquin was addressing the wrong person. She turned to Mariss and felt sickened by the expression on her face. The madam wasn’t ashamed, nor was she scared. She had Greegis’s ex-slaves exactly where she wanted them and had clearly conditioned each and every one of them to serve regardless of their given freedom.
“They’ve made their choice. Everyone wishes to stay with me. They like it here…”
“And how many times have you beaten that choice into them, Mariss? How many of your paying customers did it take before they each knew the choice was no longer theirs to make?” Kyra demanded and knew she was right when she saw a few of the girls flinch at the mere reminder of the times their will had evidently been broken. She turned away from Mariss, watching the girls intently. “All you need to do is say yes and you can come with us now. No one will ever harm you again. We have work and a home ready for you to walk straight into. You can trust us to make sure you’re never forced into doing anything you don’t want to ever again.”
One by one, they all came forward. It took much longer than she’d anticipated, but eventually, the girls were all standing beside her, and only Mariss remained. Kyra stared her down and hated that she was required to offer Greegis’s appalling servant a place at The Sanctum as well. “You can stay and serve your customers all on your lonesome, or you can come with us, Mariss. But know this, you will be being watched. If I ever see or hear of you mistreating another soul, you’ll be brought before the Lawbringer, understood?” Mariss nodded and stared at the floor. She didn’t answer, but followed behind the long line of young women toward the crafts Tarquin and his team had brought along with them to accommodate the anticipated influx of refugees. It felt good to be bringing all the girls back to The Sanctum safely, to save them from their forced servitude, and while she knew it might take them a while, Kyra had every hope that they’d each be smiling again soon. Just like she had once she too had been saved.
When they reached The Sanctum, she was surprised to find the landing bay full of crafts belonging to King Thrakor and she ran inside without a word to the others. She feared the worst, whether for the King himself or for Kronus, and didn’t stop running until a huge Thrakorian guard blocked her path to Thrayke’s office door. “Let me through,” she demanded, but he held her back.
“Please, miss. You need to stay back,” he implored her and Kyra knew she had no choice other than to back off. The last thing she needed was to be in trouble herself.
When the door opened a few seconds later and Thrayke popped his head out, he seemed relieved to discover her there.
“I thought I heard your voice,” he said, and then looked to the guard. “Let her in.” She bypassed the huge man without a word and was relieved when she found Kronus inside, but could tell by the desolate look on his face that something was seriously wrong.
“What is it? What’s happened?” she asked, falling to her knees before her clearly distraught friend.
“My mother. She… she’s dead,” Kronus managed to croak out around the understandable lump in his throat. He then hung his head, but didn’t seem to be crying, and Kyra wondered if he even could. She wrapped her arms around him, regardless of whether he wanted it or not, and held Kronus tight.
“Was it Ehrad?” she asked, looking up to Thrayke for the answer, and he nodded.
“It came on so suddenly that no one had time to help her. Queen Adora contacted me only this morning, asking to come and visit with us to discuss her options, but it appears she was already too far gone.” He fell silent and rubbed his hands over his face, but didn’t try to hide his pain from her. Unlike Kronus, Thrayke was used to opening up with Kyra and she could see he had also taken the news badly.
She went to him, offering her support like she had Kronus, and then led him over to where he still sat, head in his hands. She realized she had no idea what else she could say or do, so simply put herself between the two and held their hands in her own. Silence descended and they continued to sit for a while, but she didn’t mind the quiet at all. It was Kronus who eventually broke the silence.
“Will you both come back with me for the mourning?” he asked weakly. Kyra wasn’t sure exactly what it entailed, but knew she wouldn’t let him do it alone and immediately agreed, as did Thrayke.
“We’re with you,” he told him, giving his old friend a warm smile. “Always.”
Chapter Seventeen
“As I lay my Queen into the ground to rest, I bid her farewell. Her soul is now free. Her essence absorbed back into the ether so it can surround us always. Peace is my parting gift to you,” King Thrakor said, laying a beautiful red flower over his wife’s chest before her body was lowered into the ground. Queen Adora had been covered in a shimmering veil made of some kind of dark fabric that sparkled in the sunshine, but the glimmers were black rather than full of light, poignantly signifying the dark moment in Thrakorian history.
Kyra hadn’t seen burials like this in her life, however she knew they were once common practice back on Earth. She’d heard about the funerals her ancestors had held for the dead, but never in her lifetime. Graves were for the masses. Her kind were cremated by their own, or at least they had been before all of their ways and laws had been overruled by their Thrakorian masters’ new regime. Her heart wept for the family she watched mourn the loss of their mother and she realized then how they were just like any other. They might be rulers and leaders, but right now, they were nothing more than broken children grieving the loss of a parent, and a man without his wife—his one and only—as Thrayke had always described it.
The attendees all watched on in respectful silence and Kyra had to wipe the tears from her cheeks many times while listening to each of her surviving children offer their heartfelt words in honor of their evidently caring and gentle mother. Kronus had once told Kyra how his mother wasn’t a soldier, but an artist. She herself had listened to a recording of Queen Adora singing in their old language and knew what she had meant to Kronus. He was standing by the pulpit alongside his father and remaining siblings and like him, each of them were clearly distraught. She watched him with an ache in her chest that simply wouldn’t go away, but knew there was nothing else she could do for him other than be there like he’d asked.
Thrayke didn’t let go of Kyra’s hand throughout the entire ceremony, regardless of their vast audience both at the mourning and via the televised broadcast she knew was going out across all the different worlds the Thrakorian royals ruled. The three of them had arrived at The Hub and had stayed together right up to the point where Kronus had been ushered away to be with his family, at which point Thrayke had directed her to stand with him among the other attendees. She hadn’t really taken in those around them, having felt intimidated in the knowledge she was most likely the only human there, and so had kept her gaze on the royals the entire time. When they were eventually led away to their private mour
ning chamber, Thrayke leaned in close so he could whisper in her ear.
“We’ll wait here until sunset, when a horn will sound, signifying the start of the official day of mourning,” Thrayke told her quietly. “Usually it’s only the family who participate, but as it’s the Queen, all those who serve beneath King Thrakor’s reign are expected to mourn her. Each of us is to put aside our work and instead spend the day with those we love. By reconnecting as a tribe, we each remember those important to us, and those lost.”
“Where will we go?” she asked, wondering if they were heading back to The Sanctum to mourn with her kind, or whether they were going to stay and wait for Kronus. Thrayke smiled that sweet, patient smile of his and nodded over her shoulder, indicating for her to turn and look. An old Thrakorian man was standing a few feet away and in his embrace stood a thin, similarly aged woman. They were both smiling warmly at her and Kyra jumped. She knew the smile on the face of the man standing over her, because it was the same one she’d just seen on Thrayke’s, just like the piercing blue eyes of the woman he held close. They were clearly his parents and she felt the butterflies stir in her stomach at discovering they’d been stood nearby to them the entire time. “Is that?” she whispered, and Thrayke nodded, drawing her forward.
“Father, mother. On my honor, I present to you Kyra, my betrothed,” he said, placing her hand in his fathers, who lifted it to his mouth and then kissed the back of it.
“Finally,” he said, and the deep baritone of his voice made her tremble. Even when talking calmly he seemed daunting, like a truly wise soul. “The moment I looked into my son’s eyes upon his return to Thrakor I knew he was not the boy who had left us years before. He had become a man during his mission to Earth.” Kyra had almost laughed at Thrayke being called a boy by his father, thinking that a man over three hundred years old was certainly no boy in her eyes, but she managed to stop herself. With their epic lifespans, it was easy to forget how old they were in ‘human years’ but even still, he looked around ten years her senior, and certainly no boy. Thrayke’s father had been right though. He’d returned a man, that was for sure. Thrayke Senior leaned in closer, lowering his voice slightly. “A man who had lost his heart along the way. But it seems it wasn’t lost after all, only misplaced, and seeing him with you now, Kyra, I can see for myself that he has found it again.”
