ue bathed his cheeks as he tried to wrap the wriggling creature up in his arms and smother her in his gratitude. He was free. Lakal did not die for nothing.
“Soren!” Cyani called as their small shelter flooded with light. Soren had to close his eyes against the brightness, but quickly squinted so he could see her.
The watery light of the lamp caught in the dark tendrils of hair framing her face, making them glow with deep green life that reminded him of the gardens of his home. Her large blue eyes were wide with worry as she rushed toward him.
“Are you okay?” she asked, kneeling at his side. She had ripped off the sleeves of her clothing to bind a wound on her arm. He caught her hand and brought it closer to examine the strange markings on her forearms. He needed to touch her to absorb the chemicals in her skin. Her touch eased his sickness and his grief. She tried to pull away, but he held fast.
Her skin was naturally tinged pale blue from elbow to wrist. A tattoo of a flowering vine danced around the edges of her unusual coloring. It was delicate, playful and feminine, a complete contradiction to his cold warrior. With a forceful tug, she pulled her wrist from his hand.
“You left me,” he mumbled. “I woke alone.” He didn’t mean for it to sound like an accusation, but a small part of him stung from an irrational feeling of betrayal.
Cyani hesitated, then briefly touched the back of her hand to his forehead. “You’re burning up.”
“I’m fine,” he dismissed, letting his head fall back on the cool wall.
“Soren, you have a fever.” She reached for her bag and pulled out a small machine. She brought it closer to him, and he slapped it out of her hand. It skidded over the floor and came to rest near a pile of stones.
Cyani’s expression darkened from concern to irritation as she scowled at him. “That’s a diagnostic tool. It won’t hurt you.”
“I’m not sick,” he countered as a wave of chills racked his body.
“You’re not?” she asked in a very patronizing tone.
“
Asylal en eham.
” He looked up at her, knowing the machine in her ear couldn’t translate his words.
I am dying.
It was as simple as that.
“Now is not the time to play games.” She crossed her arms.
He shrugged, refusing to speak. He wasn’t in the mood to spar with her. He knew she had to do things on her terms, but he didn’t feel like speaking to her. He slowly stroked Vicca’s head as he stared at the lichen clinging to the crack near the pipe. It had grown to be three times its original size. A tiny swell of pride eased the dark anger in his heart.
“Soren.” Cyani’s voice sounded soft, almost pleading, but in a reserved way. “Please tell me what’s wrong. I want to help.”
Soren sighed. It was the first time she had given him such a concession.
“I’m in withdrawals.” He couldn’t bring himself to admit anything more than that. A lingering doubt remained in his heart. If she knew there was no hope for him, would she abandon him? He couldn’t take the chance. Even if he was dying, he didn’t want to be alone.
She looked at him with dawning comprehension. “The Garulen drugs, they caused the violet color in your eyes, didn’t they?”
She should have realized it earlier. It all made sense. His eyes had been showing less and less violet. The didn’t think it would be enough.
“What are the Elite?” he asked through gritted teeth.
“They are warriors who rule my planet. We have to spend five years in battle. This was my last mission for the Union Army. I was going home.” She
would
make it home; she had to believe it. The promise of peace was a thread of a delicate web she couldn’t break.
“So you’ll become a leader of your planet?” He leaned closer to her and stretched out his legs. She knew what he was doing, and she wouldn’t let him get any closer. She was pushing her comfort levels enough.
Cyani let out a derisive snort. “No, I won’t ever have power. I’ll just be a religious figurehead.”
“Why?”
“They don’t trust me.” She smiled to herself, though her bitterness clawed at her.
The Grand Sister had never trusted her, and the others learned quickly that ratting her out anytime she even contemplated breaking a rule earned the Grand Sister’s favor. The Grand Sister intentionally started her out in the bottom ranks of the Union Army. She had to spend five years bathed in blood behind enemy lines instead of clean and righteous in tactics meetings like the rest of the sisterhood.
“Why don’t they trust you?”
Cyani laughed a slow, angry laugh under her breath, and Soren let the question drop.
“Do you enjoy it? The battle?” Soren asked. He looked at her again with a disturbing intensity. “The kill?”
“I am good at it,” she admitted. “That’s all.” She felt strangely empty inside. The bare cracked stone seemed to press in around her. Why was she putting up with this incessant questioning? How many times had she asked herself the exact same things?
“How many have you killed in this war?” he asked.
Cyani looked him dead in the eye. “I don’t know.”
“Outside of it?”
Cyani felt her stomach drop as the blood rushed from her head. Could he read her mind? No, he was just pushing her. She clenched her fists, fighting the urge to wipe her palms. It was happening again. The terrible memory claimed her anytime she let her guard down against it. She could almost feel her hands sinking into the foul mud. It oozed between her fingers as the pain of the high-hawk’s blow lanced through her head.
Then she remembered agony, hard fists and boots pounding her half-starved body. The sunlight burned her eyes, blinded her as they threw her into a pure white cell. She left a dark smear of blood and grime against the wall as her beaten and broken body slid to the cold floor. Her tears fell on her mud-caked hands.
The crowds shouted in the Halls of Honor. “Murderer! Execute her!”
Cyani snapped out of it and sprang to her feet. “Why are you asking me this?” she demanded. “Don’t you trust me? Do you think I’m dangerous? That I’m going to hurt you?”
Soren watched her, the way a cat contemplates a cobra.
“You are a predator. I just wanted to know what kind.”
“And what kind am I?” she snapped.
“A wolf,” he answered in his low, calming voice. “You follow your pack. Loyal, noble”—he paused as he looked at her—“beautiful, definitely a wolf.”
Cyani stared d.
“It is better than being stuck in a cave with a wounded old bear,” he answered with a half smile.
Cyani crossed her arms. Tension drained out of her as she felt a comfortable humor return. He reminded her of Tola. Her second-in-command also knew how to defuse a volatile situation. She rubbed her itching hands. “A bear, huh? You aren’t that fat.”
“I’ve been hibernating,” Soren teased as he stroked Vicca’s snowy belly.
Cyani sat again, crossing her legs once more. “You’re familiar with wolves and bears. Is Byra a deciduous planet?”
“We have old forests, cool weather, and lots of rain. It is a very fertile place. Well, except for the people. How do you know what wolves and bea
rs are?” he asked.
“They are common creatures found on several planets, just like humans and platypuses,” she answered with a shrug.
“How is that possible?” A furrow creased his brow.
“The Gatherers spread us around.” She picked up a pebble and flicked it toward the wall.
“Who are the Gatherers?” he asked, curious. His world didn’t deal much with others, and Lakal didn’t seem interested in contemplating the mysteries of the universe during their enslavement. They were too focused on staying alive and trying to escape.
One thing they did talk about was what they would do if they ever saw their homes again. Lakal never doubted that he would find his way home and drink melon wine by the fires with his people again. Soren hadn’t been so optimistic, but Lakal did his best to keep Soren’s hope alive. It died with his friend.
“Soren, are you listening?” Cyani asked, nudging him with her elbow.
“I’m sorry.” He’d have to let Lakal go. He was gone, and nothing would bring him back. Cyani mattered now. He returned his complete attention to her. “What were you saying?”
“The Gatherers were an ancient alien race, similar to humans. They died out from a genetic disorder long before recorded universal history. According to legend, they gathered species from planets and planted them on new worlds, forcing species to adapt and evolve. The current theory is they were searching for a cure to their disease in the genetic codes of other living things.”
“That’s interesting,” Soren mused. “So you and I?”
“Different breeds of dog,” Cyani answered with a subtle grin.
“What’s a dog?” he asked. The machine in his ear was unable to translate it.
Cyani laughed outright. “A domesticated wolf.”
“Why would someone want to domesticate a wolf?” he teased. His chills abated and he took a deep breath.
Different breeds of dog.
Was Cyani compatible with him as a mate? A flicker of hope flared in his heart. He didn’t think it was possible for any species other than his own to balance his blood, but if what she said was true, he had a chance to survive.
But what good would that do? His long imprisonment destroyed any chance he had of a normal healthy life on ed his will, then opened them again.
Cyani gasped in shock, but her gaze was caught in his. He could see the glow of his eyes reflected in the clear pools of hers. A look of wonder, then panic, flashed across Cyani’s face before her long dark lashes drooped low over her lovely eyes.
“Sleep,” he whispered, as the tension drained out of her body and she collapsed on top of him.
He sighed as he pulled her closer to him. He cradled her head in the crook of his arm and tugged the tie off the end of her braid. He gently loosed the plait until her rich hair spilled like emerald silk over his arm. She would be as spitting mad as a red-ruffed badger when she woke, but he didn’t really care.
“Com, initiate Garu to Byra learning program,” he muttered as he held her close to his side.
He pressed his lips to the top of her head and inhaled the sweet scent of her hair. She unconsciously trailed her hand up his chest until it rested near her mouth, and snuggled into him like a sleepy kitten.
Soren looked down and laughed as Vicca rolled on her back, stretched her paws up into the air, and let her little pink tongue loll out of the side of her mouth. He loved the little fox. She had saved him.
Now would her master choose to do the same?
4
CYANI’S BODY SLOWLY PULLED HER TOWARD WAKEFULNESS. DEEP GREEN SURROUNDED her like a warm blanket. She could hear the soft rush of cool water tumbling over stone and rich laughter followed by the squeal of a child at play. She fought the urge to open her eyes.
A musical chanting lilted in the background, followed by a bark, something clicking along stone, and the furious scratching of a fox trying to run on a hard smooth surface.
“Com, end program.” Soren’s distorted voice rumbled in her ear. She cracked open one eye. Her thumb came into focus right in front of her face, resting on a warm expanse of smooth golden skin.
A tingle rushed down her spine as her waking mind put two and two together.
She lifted her head and looked around. Horrified, she stared into Soren’s dark green eyes, his face only inches from hers. Her hand splayed out over his chest, and the pressure of his palm in the small of her back pressed her hips to his thigh.
“Did you sleep well?” he murmured, his dark voice deep and husky.
She smacked him hard on the chest and rolled out of his embrace. Leaping to her feet, she turned and glared at him.
Vicca trotted in front of Cyani, dropped a small stone near Soren’s hand, and barked, the fox’s thick tail swishing back and forth in excitement.
“Vicca, not now!” Cyani scolded. The fox lowered her ears and curled into Soren’s side.
“You’re mad at me. Don’t take it out on her. We were playing.” Soren leaned forward and stretched, seeming oblivious to the fact that she was about to release a torrent of curse words in four different languages that would make a Fellilen patrol pilot proud.
“Mad?” Her voice squeaked, but she didn’t care. “I’m furiousdth="1em">
“Don’t look at me, Soren.” She turned her shoulder to him then focused on the bag on the other side of the room. She crossed the room to it and fumbled with the contents, looking for her sono.
“Cyani?” She halted her search. His voice sounded too close for her comfort. “Tell me honestly you don’t feel better, that you are not thinking clearer, even if you’re angry.”
“I’m thinking clearly all right,” she said, turning on him.
“I’m thinking I’d clearly like to break your nose.” She watched his eyes sparkle vivid green, glowing in the dim light. Bursts of bright lavender danced in their depths. She forced herself to turn away from them, afraid he could use them to hypnotize her again. His eyes had far too much power over her, even when he wasn’t intentionally holding her in a thrall.