by Ella Maven
Frankie kissed me on the cheek before walking off while wiping the sweat from her brow. I shook my head. Three pregnant ladies stuck in this clavas together carrying hybrid babies. That wasn’t going to be me, that was for sure, so I’d sit back and enjoy being the auntie. I had my room and my blooms.
A mate wasn’t for me.
Not at all.
Never.
Two
Miranda
As I crossed the grounds of the compound toward the gate, Naomi spotted me as she left the dining hall, as we called it. Her small face lit up in a bright smile as her short legs walked swiftly toward me.
I had a soft spot for all my girls, but Naomi was different. Everything about her exuded a kind of soft innocence which inherently pulled at my heart strings and protective instincts. She wasn’t even the youngest of all of us—that was Tabitha—but Naomi was only twenty-four. I’d just turned thirty, so to me she was a baby. In another life, she could have been a fairy or an elf. Or maybe even a leprechaun. Even her voice was soft. On Earth, she’d had a big brother to protect her. Here, she had an entire clan of big brothers, plus a bunch of big sisters too.
“Hey,” she smiled, eyes crinkling. The sun had made her freckles more pronounced. “Where’re you going?”
“You all are a nosy bunch, you know that?” I squeezed her shoulder.
“We just like to keep track of each other. It’s important.”
“I know, you’re right. Well, don’t lecture me, but I’m going hunting with Gar.”
“What?” she squeaked.
“Since Reba fell, Ward refuses to leave her side, so I invited myself to go hunting with Gar.”
Naomi laughed. “That sounds like you.” She sighed. “I wish I could talk to him like you do. He pretends I don’t exist.”
“That’s not true.”
She gave me a suffering look. “Okay, fine, he actively avoids me.”
I bit my lip on the denial because she wasn’t lying. When they did interact, Gar barely looked at her.
“I don’t get it,” she mumbled.
I wrapped my arm around her shoulders. “Men are dumb.”
As we approached the gate, a figure took a step out of the shadow of a small hut. Gar stopped abruptly when he saw who I had at my side.
“I heard you’re taking Miranda hunting,” Naomi said to him.
His gaze flickered to her before returning to me. He nodded.
Naomi’s shoulders slumped and I gave her another squeeze before letting her go.
“Well, be safe,” Naomi soldiered on despite Gar’s lack of eye contact.
The muscles in his jaw bulged, and he frowned deeply. With a near growl, he grunted, “She’s safe with me.”
Naomi didn’t wither under his expression, even though I’d seen her startle at some of the other men’s deep voices. Instead she took a step even closer and tilted her head. “I know that. I’m telling you to be safe. I want you back in one piece, as well as Miranda. I care about you too, Gar.”
For a moment, Gar didn’t move, in fact I wasn’t sure he breathed, until his chest gave a mighty heave and he blinked rapidly. I expected him to snarl or be dismissive, but instead, with his eyes unfocused over her head, he gave a brief nod.
Naomi waited, but when it was clear Gar would make no other acknowledgement of her words, she smiled sadly. Her hand lifted, as if she meant to touch him, but then she dropped it quickly back to her side. With wet eyes, she hugged me tight, whispered, “See you soon,” and turned on her heel, taking off toward our rooms at a brisk pace with her head down.
Gar’s eyes were no longer unfocused. He watched her walk away with an intense expression so pained I worried he’d collapse. His hand flexed, just once, before he closed his eyes.
“Gar?” I asked softly.
He didn’t respond. When his eyes opened, his expression had returned to a blank slate. No pain, no joy. Nothing.
“Hey,” I reached for him, but he stepped away from my touch and turned swiftly to walk toward the gates.
I had no choice but to follow him, my heart aching for whatever he was going through. The pull between him and Naomi was obvious to everyone, including themselves, but Gar made every effort to ignore her. I didn’t get it, and when this hunting trip was over, I was going to have some strong words with him.
“We’re going to discuss what just happened later. I’m giving you a heads up now,” I said to his back.
His shoulders bunched around his ears and his steps pounded the dirt.
I rolled my eyes. Dramatic.
As we neared the gates, I nearly skipped at Gar’s side, so damn excited to get out of these walls which had started to feel like a cage.
That is, until a shadow fell over us, and I turned to find Crius, with that ever-present weasely smirk on his blue face, walking beside us.
Crius gave me a weird vibe. I always prided myself on reading people well, and my bullshit alarm blared like crazy when Crius was around. His eyes were shifty, and the way he perused my body always left me wanting a shower.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Coming with you.”
I huffed and waited for Gar to give him a firm, “nit” so he’d run back to whatever hut he crawled out of.
Gar remained silent and kept walking.
I toggled my head back and forth between the two aliens on either side of me. “Wait, why is he coming with us?”
“Crius is a good tracker,” Gar said. “Almost as good as Ward.”
I held back a groan. “But—”
“He can show you tracking better than I can.” His black eyes speared me, leaving no room for argument. “You wanted to learn, so you’re going to learn.”
He looked away and signaled for the gates to open.
Crius shot me a smug grin.
Ugh, the bastard.
I crossed my arms over my chest and waited for the gates to open. The only option was to suck it up. I could deal with Crius’s presence as long as he actually taught me something. My bid for a bit of freedom just became a whole hell of a lot less fun.
After leaving the gates, we entered a dense area of forest which covered a large section of the continent where the Drixonians made their home. Occasionally we saw remnants of their war with the Uldani.
Charred stone walls of what once had been Uldani dwellings were hidden among the dense foliage. In fact, the Night Kings barracks where most of the males now lived had once been some sort of Uldani resort along the coast.
I stepped as lightly and quietly behind Gar and Crius as I could. They didn’t talk much, but when Crius would point out some tracks, I’d stoop down to peer under his arm. I couldn’t see that great, so I’d wait until he moved on before I would study it closer.
For a being with such a large mass, Gar was stealthy. Twigs didn’t even crack beneath his big boots.
How did he do that?
He carried a weapon in one giant fist which resembled a crossbow. While the Drixonians owned solar guns, they didn’t use them to hunt since they burned too much flesh and fur. Gross, but fact. Seeing as antella meat made up a large part of the warrior’s diet, they didn’t want to waste anything. From the tongue to the tail, every bit of the animal was used for something.
We came across some salibri tracks. I hadn’t seen a live one yet, even though I slept under one of their furs every night, but Val had seen one. She said it looked a lot like a saber-toothed tiger.
While Gar walked ahead, I watched very closely as Crius pointed out the tracks in the dirt and marks on the nearby tree trunk. “They mark their territory with their fangs.”
The indentations were wet. I went to touch it when Gar’s deep voice cut through the air. I immediately stilled, only to find he was about ten feet away, glaring. “Salibri saliva won’t kill you, but it’ll burn.”
“Ew.” I took a step back. “Good to know. Thanks Gar.”
He gave me a sharp nod, then shot Crius an indecipherable look. Was he wonde
ring why Crius hadn’t informed me of this? Because I sure was.
“Don’t touch it,” he said to me with a shrug.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Yeah, thanks to Gar I know that now.”
He only gave me a lazy blink like he couldn’t have cared less.
I so didn’t like this guy.
We continued walking, and I learned how to spot nests where hunners lived. I also got an unwelcome lesson on pivar droppings, so I could avoid a herd of those meat-eating hippo-like bastards.
Finally, we found some antella tracks, and as much as I hated seeing these animals killed—they were kind of cute—the Drixonians only killed what they needed for meat, and only mature adults. Babies and fertile females were left alone.
Crius, finally realizing he had a purpose on this excursion, showed me the difference between antella rub marks from their antlers and the more aggressive marking of the salibri fangs.
Up head, Gar held up a hand, silencing Crius. I crouched but couldn’t see a damned thing. I assumed up ahead was an antella, but all I could make out was a blur of blue foliage.
Gar lifted his crossbow, notched an arrow, and shot.
I only heard a solid thunk and then a thud as the animal fell.
I silently mourned the loss of the animal while also thanking it for the food it would provide us. The warriors had more mouths to feed now, with the addition of us humans, especially because three of those humans were growing babies.
Gar motioned for us to stay where we were and then turned to retrieve the animal. I stood up slowly and returned my attention to the antella rubbings seeing as I had no intention of engaging in small talk with Crius.
He, however, had other ideas. “I want to show you something interesting. There’s an abandoned welf’s nest ahead.”
I liked Luna, the welf Reba had adopted when she’d found her as a pet next to her dead parent, so I got over my dislike of Crius. “Sure, I’d like that. Should we yell to Gar?”
He shook his head. “We’ll only be a moment. I saw it recently, so I know right where it is.”
“Okay,” I tried to squint in Gar’s direction, but I couldn’t see him, so I followed Crius as we took a detour to check out the welf’s nest. Luna wasn’t even full grown yet, but she seemed like a direwolf out of Game of Thrones. Best of all, she was ridiculously loyal to Reba and had seemed to adopt the rest of us human women into her circle.
“Right up there,” Crius pointed and nudged me ahead of him. “See it?”
I didn’t, of course, but I refused to show weakness around Crius of all people. “Yeah, I think so,” I answered vaguely.
We walked further, and while I had no way to track time here—my Apple Watch having long died—our trek seemed far. My inner alarm blared. I knew I was supposed to trust all Drixonians as their creed was She is All, but I judged everyone individually. I stopped and let out an annoyed sigh.
“Crius, are you sure we shouldn’t have told Gar where we were going?”
No answer.
I turned to find myself alone. Completely and utterly alone. “Crius?” I called. Maybe he stopped to take a whiz. But he should have told me. And why didn’t I hear him walk away? I could have sworn he was right behind me.
My heart started pounding as the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. Immediately my mind raced with the all the things in this forest which could kill me in bloody, painful ways.
“Gar?” I cried out as footsteps crashed toward me.
I exhaled in relief. Good, one of the blue bastards had found me. I was going to give Crius a swift kick in the balls for this…
Except the creatures coming toward me were not Drixonians. They were Kulks, the armored soldiers who did the Uldani’s bidding. Three of them stood in front of me, peering at me with their yellow eyes through the slits in the helmets. Fear slammed into me like a punch.
I opened my mouth and got a split-second of a scream out before they lunged. One clocked me in the jaw, and blood filled my mouth before another clapped his hand over my lips. He effectively cut off any more of my verbal protests with a forearm to my throat. I kicked and flailed, but these guys were seven-foot-tall behemoths. One grabbed my hands and slapped a set of manacles on them. I went into a crocodile roll. No way would they take me to the Uldani who wanted to use me in their fucked-up breeder program. No way in hell.
I tried to bite, but the gloves the Kulks wore prevented my teeth from doing any damage. I lashed out with my feet, the only weapons I had left. One slammed right into the chest plate of one of the Kulks. A sickening crack followed, and for a moment, I thought I hurt him until pain streaked up my leg like wildfire. I screamed behind his hand holding my mouth as I stared down at my ankle which now hung at an odd angle. Tears streamed from the corners of my eyes as despair swamped me. No, no, no. I couldn’t be away from my girls.
Dizzy with pain, I tried one more effort at bucking the hands off me, but it was no use. They were moving me now, carrying me away from the only safety I had felt on this planet. I cried for Gar, who lost his sister and would now lose me, for the girls who’d have to mourn me. I cried for myself, because fuck, my ankle hurt, and I didn’t want to be used for my womb by some cracked-out aliens.
I slumped in the Kulks hold as they spoke of victory to each other. My whole leg throbbed, I could barely breathe behind the crushing hold the Kulks had on my neck and chest.
“I didn’t think it would be this easy,” one said.
“She was right where he said she’d be.”
“Yeah, but—”
A whistling sound cut through the air and the Kulk’s words cut off on a gurgle. I opened my eyes and looked down to see him writhing on the ground in a heap, blood pouring out of this neck where a crude blade was sunk between his armor joints.
“What the—”
The Kulk on the other side of me dropped to the ground on a muffled scream. At my back, I could hear the last Kulk’s heartbeat slamming against his armor. I had no idea what was killing these Kulks. I didn’t see any hunners. Would I be the last to go? The two Kulks on the ground were barely twitching as they lay in pools of blood.
“Who’s there?” the Kulk holding me called out.
Rustling came from above us. I looked up but could only see a mess of blue leaves. The Kulk muttered a low curse and began to run. I thought we would get away from whatever was trying to kill us when he grunted and tripped over his feet.
We hit the ground, his bulk landing on top of me, and I gasped for breath. I caught a glimpse of blue, black, and white just before my head slammed into something hard and everything went dark.
Three
Miranda
I came awake to a pair of black eyes inches from my face. I tried to scream but pained surged up my throat—probably a result of the Kulk’s grip on it. I could only manage a hoarse whine.
The face in front of me jerked back, and I found myself in the presence of a Drixonian warrior. For a moment, my heart leapt thinking I’d been rescued. Until I realized he wasn’t a Night King.
He wore no armband at all, which meant he wasn’t a part of any clavas. A lonas.
I tried to get my feet under me but remembered too late my ankle was non-functional. Pain shot through me and with a cry, I fell back to the green dirt. I gripped my ankle, which had managed to nearly double in size in a short amount of time. Tears of pain streaked down my cheeks as I did my best to breathe through the agony.
Knowing there was no way I could get away, I tried to assess the warrior in front of me. He was massive, easily as big as Gar. His body was streaked with dirt and he wore only a pair of threadbare pants. No boots. His hair hung down to the middle of his back, and was a mass of loose strands, braids, and dreadlocks. Two streaks of white hair started at his temples, giving him a wild look. In fact, everything about him was a little cavemanish. Scars covered him, the most gnarly being a nasty gash at his throat.
I held out my hands to show I had no weapons, as if he couldn’t tell by
one look at me I was no threat. “I’m Miranda. I’m with the Night Kings. Please don’t hurt me.”
There was zero recognition in his dark eyes. Shit, of course he couldn’t understand me. All the warriors had to have their implants updated with our language. But I’d be able to understand him, as I had an implant. If he would talk. So far, he’d done nothing but stare at me.
Something stirred beside me, and I let out a little shriek as the Kulk who had previously held me twitched with a groan.
The Drixonian moved fast as lightning. He gripped the Kulk’s head with both massive hands and with a vicious twist snapped his neck. The body fell limp beside me, and I didn’t even flinch. I’d seen enough death and violence since landing on this planet. Seeing I knew what that Kulk wanted to do with me, I couldn’t find it in me to feel sorrow at his demise.
But there was still the little—well, big—problem of the silent Drixonian at my side. I opened my mouth to plead my case and try to get him to speak when my wrists started to tingle.
I ignored them until the irritation turned to a burning sensation. I lifted my wrists and stared in disbelief as two dark lines ran parallel to each other around my wrists, almost like an invisible tattoo gun.
“No,” I murmured to myself. “No, no, no, no.” I rubbed frantically at my skin, but the lines were growing. Just as a pattern began to appear between the lines like an inked bracelet, I heard a growl.
The Drixonian stared at his wrists as an identical pattern to mine appeared on his blue-scaled skin. His nostrils flared and his chest heaved.
I knew what these lines were. The Drixonians called them loks, and the matching pattern on my wrists and this unknown warrior meant we were mates, picked by their karma-like Fatas.
Just as the pattern finished, the loks glowed a bright yellow before dulling to a gold which stood out prominently on my dark skin. My head spun as my mind felt crowded with something else. Someone else. The girls had told me about this benefit of the loks—they could feel their mate’s emotions in their head at all times.
