by Lea Linnett
He was even more stunning in the morning light. His scales twinkled as his chest softly rose and fell, and the smooth skin of his belly glistened with a golden sheen, so like her own, but not. With the thick columns of muscle in his neck and torso, she’d expected his body to feel hard and uninviting, but it wrapped perfectly around her own, his arms cradling her in the makeshift nest they’d made of the furs. It shocked her that he could have ever seen himself as anything less than perfect, and she wanted to put an arrow through anyone that had ever made him feel like less because of some skin and gnarled scales.
But the peaceful look on his face eased Bree’s anger, the worry line between his roughly-scaled brows erased by sleep. He looked more relaxed than she’d ever seen him, and last night…
Last night, he’d been like a demon between her thighs, burning hotter than any firestone as he made her melt. Gone was the analytical hesitation, the detachment from his subject, and gone was his modesty. He’d bent her body to his will over and over until they could have been extensions of one another, but all that time, she knew she could stop him with a single word.
She trusted him. Still. Even moreso now that he’d trusted her with his deepest fears.
She drew circles on his chest, thrilling at the way his muscles jumped beneath her touch as he slowly woke. He groaned irritably, his pupils going tight as the light hit his eyes, but as soon as he saw her they fattened again. Content.
“Toshaan…” he murmured, kissing her hair, and the action sent a ripple of warmth through her body. It was thrilling, but not in the same way as the night before.
No one had ever held her like this.
“‘Toshaan?’” she asked. “You’ve called me that before.”
He blinked sleepily. “It is what my people would have called you, thousands of years ago when we traveled the deserts of the levekk’s home. Toshaan. Hunter.” A small frown creased his brow. “Maybe it is not a good name.”
“No, I like it,” Bree said, her chest warming.
She’d never thought of where the levekk might have come from, or what they might have been like before they created the Constellation. Would they have been like her own people, or even more alien?
“You’d be a terrible hunter,” she teased. “You’re supposed to rise with the dawn.”
“Mm, I already caught my prey,” he said flippantly, burying his face in her neck. His lips found her pulse, his new favorite spot, apparently, and she inhaled sharply at the sensation.
“Caught? More like dilly-dallied around while your prey lay down in front of you and begged you to eat it.”
“I did not make up for this by eating with vigor?”
“I don’t know. Depends whether you’re still hungry.”
“It is you who hungers.” He pulled back, his firestone-colored eyes dancing. His fingers found her still-sensitive core, making her gasp.
They tangled together again, but their kisses were slow, lethargic. “We should get moving,” she whispered regretfully. “We’ve got a long day of walking ahead if we want to reach the Barracks by sunset.”
“Maybe we just live here from now on?”
Bree laughed and sat up, only for Marek to follow suit, pressing his broad chest against her back. “In this tiny cabin? So close to the mine shaft?”
“Yes,” Marek crooned into her ear. His arms snaked around her shoulders. “You will hunt for us, while I…”
“While you what?” She reached up to touch his face, wincing when she got a whiff of her armpit. “Wait, I know. You can use all your science skills to make a bathtub for me. I stink.”
“I love how you smell,” Marek said, nuzzling her neck. “But this bath you speak of does intrigue me.”
“I bet.”
Booted footsteps sounded outside their makeshift den. “Are you two finally awake?” came Noe’s voice, sounding annoyed. “Because I don’t wanna stay this close to the mine for longer than we have to.”
“We’re coming.” Bree frowned. “Wait, Noe, why didn’t you wake me for my watch?”
“Don’t worry about it. Nothing happened.” The woman was silent for a moment, and then added, “Just hurry up.”
She stomped away, leaving Bree shaking her head. “I don’t understand…”
“I think she struggles to understand, as well,” Marek murmured as his hand smoothed down her back. “She will not be the only one.”
“Don’t say that. My people are fair. They’ll listen to reason.”
“And if they do not?” Marek’s tone was flat as he asked, but not unkind. “We must prepare ourselves for this outcome, Bree. I do not wish to come between you and your people.”
“If they don’t accept you,” Bree snapped, “then I’ll know I was right all these years. I’ll know that the sneers and the disdain they had for me are all they’re capable of.”
“They treated you this badly?”
“No.” She took Marek’s hand, polishing his scales with her thumb. “Some were assholes, especially in the last few years, but Noe, Luis, my friend Torrin… They always had my back. That’s why I think we can make this work,” she insisted. “But if we can’t, then fuck it.”
Marek’s rough brow rose in surprise.
“We can live in the fucking forest,” she went on, shuffling closer and bringing his hand to her lips. “I’ll teach you to hunt, you’ll teach me all the secrets that my people have lost. We’ll build a home. Together.” She held his gaze. “We get to choose, remember?”
Marek’s blue-violet eyes were wide, his chest rising and falling with the force of his breaths. Then, he pulled her into him, taking her mouth in a fierce kiss that Bree met with equal fervor, needing to show him how much she meant what she’d said. She’d been so focused on getting out of that mine and returning to her people, but really, freedom was all she wanted. The freedom to be herself, and to have Marek at her side.
And if the way he looked at her when they finally broke apart was any indication, she thought he might want that, too.
They gathered their things quickly, and Bree took the time to assemble her new bow. She slung it over her shoulder, grabbing a spare quiver for the arrows from a shelf and tying it around her waist with a cord.
While she did so, Marek inspected the extinguished firestone—or mesilisi, she supposed she should call it—but he did not comment on it again. His reaction to it had been… strange. The firestones had become a necessary, if mysterious part of their lives, but Marek looked at it with an awe that unsettled her.
It made her wonder what had happened to the talisman that Urek took from her. Maybe they hadn’t realized what it was, and it had already been thrown away. She hoped that was the case. After Marek’s reaction, she suddenly thought it best that the mesilisi remain a secret.
She pushed the worry to the back of her mind as they set out. Their journey was long, and the only thing that kept Bree’s feet from dragging was the promise of safety once they reached the Barracks. Her people were trained as soldiers, most of whom far surpassed Bree in skill. She had focused on hunting, but many saw the protection of the village as their life’s purpose, especially with the levekk now living so close by. She found herself yearning for the security of those high walls, where once they had only felt claustrophobic.
The storm from the day before had passed over, but a sharp wind still remained, and it whipped at her face as the three of them tromped through the deep snow. She turned to Marek, who was looking around at the snow-covered ground with a perturbed expression. “You okay?”
“Yes.” He smiled, but it was weak. “I am still not fond of the snow.”
“Try walking in my footsteps, it’s easier.”
“Do not tire yourself for me,” he started to argue, but Bree shrugged.
“We can take turns.”
With a nod, he fell into step behind her, but when she looked back later, it was clear that something still troubled him. Something that she didn’t think she could fix as easily as the snow.
After that, the hours slipped by as quickly as the ground, which was not quickly at all, in Bree’s opinion. The snow made walking difficult in places, even for her, and while the trees promised a thinner layer to struggle through, they also threw up fallen branches and twisted tree roots to hamper their progress.
But part of her still thrilled at the challenge. This was her home—more than her father’s house had ever been. Out here, the smell of damp earth and foliage was familiar to her, the moisture dripping through the trees felt fresh, and the passage of the sun guided her better than the metal ceilings of the mine. She could be herself here, beholden to no one’s expectations but her own.
Which was a freedom she hoped Marek might find out here, as well, as he commented on things that interested him and exchanged harmless barbs with Noe.
Bree knew her friend didn’t approve of Marek coming with them. She’d tried to take Bree aside earlier just to say so, but Bree had ignored her. Noe was a soldier—if Luis said they were marching on the mine at dawn, she’d be one of the first in line—but even she seemed to be warming to the alien that walked beside them.
She had to believe that the others would be the same. That although many had scorned her for her obsession with the levekk, they wouldn’t turn that scorn to hate.
The Barracks came into view at sunset.
Bree’s heart skipped as the tall, wooden walls filtered through the trees, followed by the familiar buzz of activity that would continue even into the night. Before, she’d always been struck by a sinking feeling, and had agonized over the idea of returning to her small bunk, surrounded by people who looked at her like she was crazy.
Now, she felt… excitement. She’d made it back. After weeks of imprisonment and aliens and a world she didn’t understand, she’d returned. And with Marek at her side, she felt more at home than ever. His scaled face flashed like fire in the orange sunset, and she wished he wasn’t wearing the all-covering heatsuit for a moment, so she could see the sun’s rays touching the rest of him, making even the parts he hated sparkle like ancient treasures.
Her good mood dampened when she noticed Marek staring up at the Barracks’ walls with his brow furrowed.
“It’ll be fine,” she insisted, though a knot of worry had formed in her gut. It had to be fine. Her people weren’t like his. They were scared of the levekk, sure, but they weren’t unreasonable. They would give him asylum. And if they didn’t…
She took his hand. “If they won’t take us, we’ll live out here. Like we said.”
He nodded, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes, and behind him, Noe worried at her lip. Bree led them out through a gap in the trees with purpose nonetheless, her shoulders squared.
She fought down her trepidation as they left the thick forest and cut across the flat, snow-covered plain that led to the Barracks’ southern gate. They were completely exposed, and the mountains rising in the distance made Bree feel very small. Her village was somewhere beyond, tucked safely behind the rocky range, but the Barracks stood tall between them to make sure no outsiders ever made it that far. Its occupants were alert, trained, and always watching.
She wasn’t surprised when she heard a shout from up above as they approached. All three of them hesitated, scouring the tops of the Barracks’ walls for movement, and then…
“Bree?!”
The voice was instantly recognizable, as was the tall figure who stood between the partially-opened gates. It was Torrin, apprentice blacksmith and Bree and Noe’s oldest friend, and he strode forward on long legs, plowing through the snow as if it were nothing but dust.
He pulled up short when he finally registered Marek standing behind them, his jaw dropping beneath the thick, strawberry blond beard he sported. “Is that…?”
Behind him, more soldiers were filtering through the gates, looking more intimidating than Bree remembered in their weathered armor.
Noe sighed, exchanging a helpless look with Bree, before finally saying, “A levekk, yeah.”
Torrin blinked at her. “What is it doing here?”
Bree flinched at the word: it. But Noe was already starting to explain. “It’s complicated. A lot has happened. After Luis sent me after Bree, I infiltrated the mine and was… captured.”
“Captured?!” Torrin’s blue eyes were like saucers, his usually quiet voice breaking on the word. “But you told me you were only going to look.”
“Well, I… may have bent the truth a little,” Noe admitted. “Luis told me to get Bree back, no matter what it took—”
“So why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped!”
“And risk losing even more people?” She looked away. “We were going against the elders’ wishes. I couldn’t tell you about the plan, Luis’ orders.”
Torrin looked crestfallen. “Noe…”
“That doesn’t matter now,” Bree interjected. She stood between Marek and the Barracks, and the slow creep of the soldiers across the snow was making her heart race. “The point is, we were both captured, and neither of us would be free of that place without Marek’s help.”
Torrin’s brow furrowed. “This alien helped you? But it looks…”
“He helped us,” Bree said again. “And he helped me many times before Noe arrived.” She stepped forward, grabbing Torrin’s arm in a fierce grip. “There’s too much to explain now, but I need you to back me up on this, all right? Please?”
Torrin looked between them, his eyes flickering with silent turmoil. Then, he nodded. “I will,” he said, and turned his gaze on Marek. “And if you truly did help them, I must thank you.”
Marek blinked. “It is… no problem.”
“H-he speaks?”
“Of course he does,” Noe snapped, as if she hadn’t been just as surprised. “Why’d you talk to him if you didn’t think he spoke English?”
Torrin’s eyes narrowed into the scowl he reserved for Noe alone, but the sound of a shocked cry behind him drew all their gazes.
The soldiers had gotten close enough to see Marek, and Bree heard the clatter of weapons being drawn.
“Is that an alien?” one exclaimed. There was a thump and a yelp, and a hissed order to be quiet, but the whispering had already started.
Torrin’s gaze hardened. “I will speak your case.”
“Thank you,” Bree breathed, before stepping back towards Marek. But her momentary feeling of relief evaporated when she noticed the familiar, metallic glint of some of the weapons held by the soldiers circling them.
Guns. Her people didn’t have many—most of them were handed down from before the Invasion, and were kept in working order by the gunners, who were specially trained in their upkeep. Torrin made replacement parts sometimes, but they were fiddly, and their stocks of bullets that were buried in the mountainside within airtight containers were so limited that they were rarely accessed. Bree had never even held a gun, let alone fired one, but she had seen what they could do, and those memories flew threw her mind as she stared down the barrel of the ones pointed towards her.
But that didn’t stop her from covering Marek’s body with her own. She stared around at the soldiers, shocked at just how many faces felt unfamiliar to her. Not that they were different people—she’d trained with many of them since she was a teenager—but they looked at her and Marek now with glacial expressions, arrows nocked and guns raised, and Bree’s heart sank.
“Who is this?”
She whirled around to see Luis stepping from the wall of soldiers, his thick brows knotted. He held a gun in his hands, pointed safely at the ground, but he didn’t look at Bree or Noe as he approached. His eyes were on Marek, his gaze alarmingly steady.
“He’s a friend,” Bree said in a rush, and the words were met with more whispers around the circle. “I was caught by the levekk, and they kept me under observation, interrogated me. They wanted to know where we lived, how we’d hidden for so long, but Marek helped me break out. He helped us both.”
Luis’ head whipped around.
“An Invader helped you?”
“Yes! He even gave me this bow,” she said, pulling the weapon from her back to another chorus of murmuring. “He’s not like them, Luis. He’s an ally. A friend.”
Her leader stared at her with open disbelief, which for Luis was a furrowed brow and tightly pursed lips. Then, he shook his head and signaled to his soldiers, who started to inch closer.
“What are you doing?” Bree yelped in dismay. “Hey! Put the weapons down, already.”
A hand landed on her shoulder as Noe sidled up to her. “Bree, let them take him. They—”
“He’s human!” she yelled, protecting Marek with her body and raising her bow in front of them both like a shield.
Around her, the circle stilled, and a voice said, “He doesn’t fucking look human.”
“Be quiet!” Luis snapped, raising a hand to silence them. He took a step closer, his gaze jumping between Bree and Marek in disbelief. “What do you mean, Bree?”
“He’s a hybrid. One of his parents was levekk, the other human,” she said. “I know it’s hard to believe, but he’s one of us. There are other humans in that mine—there are entire species apart from the levekk—and they’re all treated like they’re lesser. Marek, too. Most of them are more like us than you’d realize—”
“Enough.” Luis gestured again and the others approached, faster this time. “Restrain him. We’ll have this discussion inside.”
“What are you doing?” she asked, backing into Marek’s hard chest. He didn’t say anything—had barely said anything this entire time—but he caught her by the shoulders, squeezing her once before pushing her aside.
“It will be fine, Bree,” he said, flinging her own words back at her. She moved to bat away one of the fighters, a protest on her lips, but then another firm grip pulled her backwards.
“Leave it. Don’t make things more complicated,” Noe said in her ear as the soldiers stepped cautiously up to Marek. He didn’t lash out or fight them, and his face was guarded, but accepting.
