Tempest (Valos of Sonhadra Book 2)

by Poppy Rhys

  My vision blurred again at the sight of him with dried tracks of blood around his mouth. I shuddered a breath. Apparently, my body did have more tears to shed.

  Dason pulled me to his chest and I latched on, tearing my gaze away from Lonan, unable to face the evidence that he was gone. I tightly wrapped my arms around Dason’s neck and buried my face there as he held me while a new batch of sobs shook my frame.

  I didn’t know I could feel this amount of hurt. I had never experienced a grief that lodged in my throat, tried to choke my airways, and ached deep in my bones. There was a hollow pit inside me that needed to be filled and could only be remedied by the dead valo I’d just been peeled from.

  The air stirred with static when Kahn crouched behind Dason, his warm hand running over my curls, soothing me. Another hand, big and firm and heavy—Zaid—lay between my shoulder blades, rubbing back and forth.

  They surrounded me, attempting to console the inconsolable and it only made me cry harder until my face was buried against a slippery shoulder made wet by my own saltwater.

  “Charlie,” Zaid’s voice was close to my ear. Nothing they could say would help me right now. “Charlie, Lonan will be back.”

  My heart squeezed painfully. How could he say something so inconsiderate?

  I lifted my head, my squiggly vision swimming anew. Another pang shot through my chest. I couldn’t lie that it was a mixture of hope and misery.

  My mouth opened as I readied myself to yell in outrage, but the sincerity in his gaze gave me pause. Kahn’s face twisted with a mixture of emotions, but I saw the earnestness there too.

  Quickly I wiped at my cheeks, pulling back to glance up at Dason. There it was again, a candor that shone through.

  “What do you mean?” Lonan was dead. I cautiously peeked over my shoulder, once again seeing his lifeless body. “He’s gone.”

  “No,” Dason shook his head, his mouth descending to tenderly kiss my forehead.

  “He’s regenerating,” Zaid finished.

  Kahn stood, moving to crouch beside Lonan’s body. He smoothed a hand over the wound—

  It was gone.

  I scrubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands and scurried from Dason’s lap to feel it with my own hands, unsure if my eyes were deceiving me.

  The wound had closed over.

  “What’s happening?” I breathed.

  “We cannot die so easily,” Kahn leaned forward, his thumb brushing the new tracks of my tears away. A small smirk—the familiar mischievousness much more natural—tugged at his mouth. “You won’t be rid of us for many, many cycles.”

  This was too confusing.

  I stared down at Lonan, trying to process what was happening. They could regenerate. It wasn’t hard to understand, and I realized even some species on Earth had regenerative capabilities, but this wasn’t a leg or a tail he had to regrow.

  He’d been impaled.

  “When will he come back?” Impatience ate away at me as my hands framed Lonan’s slackened face. A large part of me remained dubious.

  “Soon—”

  Lonan gasped, his eyelids flying open, revealing the white storms I’d come to know, and his chest shivered with life.

  Indescribable emotions hit me left and right as I saw the alien man I’d watched die come back to life right before me.

  It was him. Truly him. I saw it in his knowing gaze that landed on me, and that clever smile forming.

  “I told you I was o—”

  He didn’t finish, because I threw myself against his chest, cutting off his words. He grunted, and I immediately pulled back.

  “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” I ran my hands over his chest. “I’m sorry!”

  I tackled him again before he could speak, unable to help myself. The others chuckled as I clutched onto Lonan like a parasite.

  I pulled back again, anger quickly surfacing as I slapped his shoulder.

  He flinched, confusion knitting his sleek brows. “That hurt.”

  “How dare you try to die on me!”

  “I didn’t try to d—”

  Again, I tackled him.

  Kahn roared with laughter, and I had an inkling Lonan probably looked as confused as my warring emotions felt. I didn’t care.

  “I cried for you, you idiot!” I ground out, kissing his cheek, leaning up to slap his shoulder again, and then diving in for a hug. “I cried real tears!”

  Zaid and Dason joined Kahn, cackling away as Lonan sputtered beneath me, taking my love and abuse. I sat back up, seeing the utter disbelief on his face, as if he didn’t know what to say, like he wasn’t sure if I’d hit him again or kiss him.

  I kissed him.

  I didn’t care about the dried blood on his lips or the tangy taste of it. I only knew I needed to feel that he was alive, truly alive.

  His body tensed in a different way, arms coming up to hold me to him. He groaned into my mouth, his tongue sliding along mine while I kissed him like I’d never get to again. When we broke apart, I stared down into his eyes, my fingers smoothing the thick strands of soft silver hair from his temple.

  “That’s how you should greet me first the next time I come back to life,” he complained.

  I tried my damnedest to keep my lips from twitching. “There better not be a next time.”

  Because I’ll kill you myself just for dying on me.

  I decided now wasn’t the time to make threats I probably wouldn’t keep.

  I kissed him again, feeling his hands run up and down my back. Too many questions bombarded my mind to sit there and have a well-deserved make-out session with Lonan though. I pulled away, sitting back on my knees.

  If they could regenerate from a fatal wound, would they never die?

  “How old are you?” I asked no one in particular.

  “Hundreds of cycles,” Dason answered, his fingers closing around my hand before he kissed my knuckles.

  My canine tooth sank into my bottom lip as I tried to ignore the fluttering in my stomach and focus on the alarming amount of questions I wanted to ask.

  From what I could tell, cycles were like years on Earth. Hundreds? How were they hundreds of years old? When they talked about battles and Ghishwy leaving, I figured they meant ten or so years ago. I had an inkling they were older than me, but not by hundreds of years.

  “Are you guys immortal?” The word felt a little ridiculous. Fantasy characters in books were immortal. Then again, I was on an alien planet with alien men who could manipulate the elements around them and fight off monstrous creatures straight from a science lab with their bare hands.

  Maybe the fantasy novels had it right all along.

  “Immortal?” Zaid repeated the word in English.

  Obviously they could die—Lonan clearly demonstrated that—but they could regenerate so it wasn’t a true death. In the books there were always rules. No one was truly immortal. Every immortal had a weak spot, whether it was their heart, their head, silver bullets, the sun, and so on, there was always something that could kill an immortal.

  “Can you, or will you, permanently die someday?”

  Lonan reached up, rubbing his thumb over my bottom lip. “If we choose to.”

  My forehead grew tight as it wrinkled. “If you choose to?”

  “With the heartstones, Ghishwy gave us the will to live or to die,” Zaid kissed the curve of my ear, his warm breath pleasurably fanning my lobe. His thick fingers brushed back my curls and I nearly moaned. He was talking of the four stones from the memory that fused with their being. “One day, when we’ve had our fill of this life, we will cease to exist.”

  They all nodded in agreement, and my throat constricted. They could go on endlessly if they wanted to. My human body wasn’t made like that.

  “What’s wrong, Charlie?” Dason leaned forward, rubbing a hand at the base of my back. I must’ve looked upset because they were suddenly concerned.

  “Humans have short lifespans, compared to you.” My life expectancy had n
ever been a thought in my mind until I was faced with the idea of immortality. “And as time goes on, this amazing body, and my youthful beauty,” I beamed proudly and they groaned, chuckling, “will one day age. I’ll get wrinkles, and gray hair.”

  Zaid brushed his thumb over my cheek. All eyes were glued to me, showing their undivided attention.

  “Things will start to sag,” I smirked, but it dissolved. “My bones will weaken, and my memories may fade, while you’ll all remain as you are, in pristine condition, and eventually, one day, I’ll die.”

  Their expressions were somber, and I watched as they shared silent glances with each other as if speaking on a wavelength I couldn’t access.

  “You’ll live forever,” I finished. Realization hit me that I’d just—in a roundabout way—confirmed I was planning to stay on Sonhadra. With them. For the rest of my life.

  And I wasn’t even... upset. Maybe all along I knew it was a hopeless thread to hang onto.

  Lonan sat up, his hand gently gripping the side of my neck. His beautiful lightning eyes bore into mine as he spoke. “Your wrinkles will not bother us.”

  “Your body, youthful or not, will always entice us,” Kahn grinned, leaning past Lonan to press his lips to the corner of my mouth, pulling a small, reluctant smile from me.

  Zaid hummed, agreeing, his fingers continuing to brush against my hair. “We will be there when your memories are unclear, and we will help you remember.”

  Dason kissed the bare side of my neck. “And when the day comes that you pass from this world...”

  Lonan pressed his forehead against mine. “We will be right behind you.”

  The dam cracked again, and the hot tears seeped past my closed eyelids as they pushed memories into me with their contact.

  I saw myself through their eyes at various moments of the past few weeks.

  Me, playing with Rezz once I discovered he wouldn’t eat me. That was Lonan; I could feel his memory.

  Another where Kahn was holding me against his chest, all of them surrounding my sleeping form.

  The moment I smiled like a stupid person at Zaid, and the night I explained what a grandpa was. That last one was Dason. Cheeky bastard.

  They each showed me the exact moment they’d linked themselves to me.

  Sonhadra was my home now, because that was where these four existed. I couldn’t leave the four valos who made me feel whole for the first time in my life.

  TWENTY-TWO

  BY AFTERNOON, I HAD an optimistic pep in my step despite my shitty prison shoes. I’d finally admitted to myself that I loved a quad of alien men.

  I was still inner chuckling.

  Me, Charlie, in love with anyone, let alone aliens. Four of them! How weird was that? I thought I’d have bigger issues with loving more than one man—that, and what kind of guy shared with other guys?—but clearly I didn’t.

  Neither did they.

  I knew that Ghishwy tied them to each other. I saw it in the memory Zaid had shared with me. I’d been curious how he could show me memories that weren’t his. Ghishwy had ‘gifted’ them with her memory of their creation.

  How kind. I tried not to be bitter. She was gone. Gone for hundreds of years. I was still trying to wrap my mind around that.

  I ditched around Dason, placed my hands on Kahn’s shoulders and jumped. He looped his arms over my thighs when I wrapped them around his middle for a piggyback ride.

  “I can do mind blowing things with my mouth,” I whispered in his ear. A commotion of groans trailed me. I turned my head, three restless gazes pinned me.

  “What?” I feigned innocence.

  “We all heard that,” Dason grumbled.

  “We’re strength training over here.” I faced forward, kissing the curve of Kahn’s ear. “Gotta make sure Kahn’s current knows he’s the boss.”

  “I don’t know how this is supposed to help,” Kahn mused, his voice reverberating through his shoulders and into my skin.

  “Well,” I drawled close to his ear, “are you thinking about my mouth on a certain... appendage right now? A mouth hug?”

  Cue the groans, and I suppressed my snicker.

  A pause, and then, “Now I am.”

  I tossed my head back for a quick laugh and then righted myself. “And here I am, still alive, and not freshly cooked. Hoorah! It’s working!”

  Kahn’s hands tightened around my thighs and a thick spark of static zapped my skin. I yelped. “Hey!”

  Deep laughter trailed me, and I craned my neck to glare at the others.

  “I’m debating never giving any of you mouth hugs ever again.” Not that anyone but Kahn had ever received one.

  The laughter died.

  That’s what I thought.

  Later, Kahn’s steps slowed, and I slid off his back, a strange smell clouding my nose. A mixture of burnt dirt and engine fuel. It came into view then.

  Alpha pod.

  “We’re in Kahav territory, now,” Dason murmured. “If there’s any left.”

  I recognized the name as the valos they’d last battled, while my eyes scanned the vicinity. The clearing was littered with trashed items, a stray prison shoe with old blood splashed across it. The bay to the pod was wide open. Deep scratches by something with long, dangerous claws marked up the sides.

  Ak’rena most likely.

  It was eerie to behold as I stood at the edge of the perimeter. I froze in place behind the others as the memory of that night, the fear, the adrenaline and confusion, came barreling back into me.

  My gaze darted to the far side. That was where Preta had disappeared.

  Something dropped to the ground behind me.

  My immediate instinct was to duck. My training dictated whenever a threat was behind me, I wanted to make it more difficult to put a bullet in my back.

  But it happened too quickly.

  The familiar sting of the shockstick lodged into ribs. I shrieked, falling to my knees, the pain more intense than I’d ever experienced during my week on Concord.

  “Don’t even think about it!” The person behind me shouted at my four when they turned, their forms already shifting. “I’ll put this on high and shock her braindead!”

  I knew that voice.

  Handsy.

  “Didn’t think I’d see you again, baby.”

  My fingers twitched, brushing against something long and thin. I curled my fingers around it.

  He gripped my arm, hauling me up, and plastering me to his front where he stabbed the shockstick into my neck.

  “Tell them to back off, or I’ll give it to you real good.” The disgusting innuendo made my skin crawl, made my psyche splinter, and my time in alpha pod resurface.

  My train of thought screeched to a halt for a matter of seconds, only shaken back to the present when Handsy jostled me.

  “Tell them!”

  My breaths were shallow. I didn’t want to say it. I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want to be anywhere near Handsy. I didn’t know why my brain wasn’t cooperating!

  “Do you have a death wish, baby?”

  Crack.

  His hot breath brushed against the back of my ear before he licked the spot.

  A whimper slipped from me, and Handsy groaned.

  It was like everything in me died for a hot minute. Everything I’d been taught, everything I stood for, every piece of my wiring just had one massive error as soon as Handsy put his paws on me.

  “Stay back,” I breathed, giving a small shake of my head to my guys as they took another step forward. They paused, their eyes more turbulent than I’d ever seen yet. A tempest whirled within them.

  “I knew you missed me,” Handsy cackled into my ear.

  I could see Kahn’s current flaring to life, and I knew the only reason they held back was because Handsy’s shockstick was to my neck and could harm me at any moment.

  In the seconds following that realization, I felt my psyche pulling itself together, piece by piece.

  Handsy wouldn’t hurt me
. I was the only thing standing in the way of him and my four.

  “How are you alive?” I said slowly.

  He grinned against my ear before kissing it. My jaw tensed. I wanted to rip his tongue out.

  “I learned to be quiet, that’s how. Those shrieking alien bugs don’t notice you when you cover yourself in mud and stop moving. In fact,” his tone cocky, “lots of things don’t notice you.”

  “Too bad,” I gritted, “I was hoping you died.”

  He jabbed the shockstick tighter against my neck. “Now, baby, you don’t mean that. You can make it up t—”

  I stabbed his thigh with the small, jagged stick I’d grabbed while I was on the ground.

  Handsy howled, staggering back a foot, giving me just enough room to duck out of his grasp and the shockstick’s end.

  My training was ingrained into my muscle memory and I knew he’d come back with a swing. I narrowly missed his fist, my body lowering into a crouch before my fingers curled.

  I pounded him in the ribs, twice in quick succession with every ounce of power I had in those two blows.

  Again, he staggered, but I couldn’t let up.

  In his distracted state, I snatched the shockstick from him, and with a grunt I stabbed his gut. “How does that feel?” I screamed, pulling back only to jab him once more.

  I followed him down when he tripped backward. My gaze landed on the gun at his hip. It happened so quickly I didn’t even realize I went for it until it was already in my hand, my knee digging into his chest.

  Fingers pulled back the slide, eyes checking the chamber, my arm straightening to plant the barrel at my target.

  “No, Char—”

  Crack.

  It wasn’t my psyche this time, but the sound of a gunshot.

  I couldn’t let him say my name.

  This whole time, he’d never said it. Inmate alpha thirty-three. That was who I was to him. He wasn’t allowed to say my fucking name.

  Watching the trail of blood slide over his forehead from the single bullet hole was oddly therapeutic.

  A weight lifted from my shoulders. I killed a monster. How many inmates had he tortured, psychologically and physically?

  Fuck him.

  Fuck him and all the guards like him.