His heavily bandaged arm was held aloft by straps and cables. She frowned. Even though the bandage was thick, it was too short. Rather, his arm was
too short
. She reached out but didn’t touch. “
Suvaste
, what have they done to you?”
She fell into the chair at his side. Laid a hand over his heart. And waited.
This time, Nalea awoke with the warm touch of a hand on her head. She jerked back. “Oh!” she whispered as the fingers entwined in her hair caught a snarl. Freeing herself, she leaned back to find Roden, his eyes glazed, but watching her intently.
His voice was weak and rough when he spoke. “You’re well.”
She didn’t speak while she came to her feet. She bent over him, cupped his cheek, and ever so softly brought her lips to his. The kiss was soft and careful and said more than any words she could’ve come up with. His hand grasped her hair once again, this time tugging her into a deeper kiss. Her breath hitched. Cravings surged forward and she wrapped her arms around him, hitting his bandaged arm.
Roden sucked in a hiss, and she backed away. “Sorry,” she mumbled.
His glazed gray eyes pierced her. “Never apologize for kissing me.” Then he tugged at the cables, which brought forth a wince. “Damned primitives,” he muttered as his head pushed deeper into the pillow. “Leave it to humans to cut off damaged appendages rather than repair them.”
A pang of sympathy shot through her. “Is there anything your med-tecs can do?”
He grimaced. “Not now. Not without a
fyet
hand left to work with.” He yanked once more at the cables, the sounds echoing in the small room.
A funny thought hit her, and she smothered a chuckle.
“What?” Roden asked.
“For being a hero, you sure get beat up a lot.”
He lay there for several long minutes, staring at the ceiling. Finally, he spoke. “Tell me it was worth it. Tell me we got Otas.”
“I haven’t heard yet.”
His lips tightened. “It doesn’t matter. If we didn’t get him, he’s gone from Earthside. We’d have to deal with him later.” He held out a hand, which she clasped with both of her own. “Together, we’ll lead the Draeken into their new home.”
She watched him for a moment and then pulled her hands away. He sounded so confident, so
honest
. “No.”
He frowned before wincing and leaning back on the bed. It took him a couple deep breaths before responding. “You’re the natural heir. It only makes sense — ”
“I’m a Sephian first, and nothing will change that.”
“Sephians. Draeken. On Earth, we’re the same. We’re both outsiders.”
She shook her head. “Besides, I can’t leave. I’m a member of Sienna’s trinity, and right now she needs me now more than ever. I won’t abandon her.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
She paused before speaking. “Both.”
“But your place is with me.” His words were demanding, yet pleading. “Hillas was my gift to you. The plan was never to hurt you but for you to rule our people. It’s what you’re meant for.”
She took his hand, rubbed a thumb down his palm. “I won’t deny that you’re my
tahren
. And I don’t regret that. My only regret is that you nearly got yourself killed because of me.” Then she pulled away. “Thanks for saving me, Roden,” she said and backed up a couple steps.
His gaze never left hers. It looked as though he’d climb out of the bed if he could. “Nalea … ”
She paused at the door. “I care for you. But, it doesn’t change who I am or where I need to be. Good-bye.” Her voice cracked, and she rushed out of the room before she changed her mind. She couldn’t stay with Roden any more than she could abandon her people.
It was the best for both of them.
Then why did it hurt so much?
Several weeks later
Roden massaged frustratingly at the muscles in his forearm, where phantom pain sent streams of fire coursing up his arm at regular intervals. The blasted humans had cut off his hand midway up his forearm without even trying to save it. Had they even apologized? Hells, no. To make matters worse, he was stuck without an appendage while his med-tecs worked on an artificial replacement.
Even more frustrating was the fact that Otas had somehow managed to escape, despite all the ground forces around the base. He’d left his loyal guardsmen behind to die. Guardsmen like Elng whose confused loyalties stole a life of promise.
Hillas’s remaining guardsmen had been taken into custody while Roden worked at transferring them under his command. Elng was just another casualty in a war that never should have happened. Roden didn’t believe in slavery. Never had. The things he’d had to fake to not get caught while he worked to align the Sephians and Draeken … he fought back the revulsion. He still found himself retching late at night when jagged memories returned.
He glanced up to see Nalea watching him from across the tables. As beautiful as ever, even with the nasty scar across her neck from where his blade had nearly killed her, she sat at Sienna Wolfe’s side as a member of a Sephian trinity.
She should be at my side, and she knows it.
When she caught his hard gaze, she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
At least I’m not the only one uncomfortable here.
He flicked his wings intentionally, and grinned when her eyes narrowed, then widened. The day earlier he’d had her
soullare
tattooed across every inch of his wings. Darker than it appeared on her skin, the shade matched what a
soullare
would look like on a Sephian male. She jerked away before turning back on him with a frustrated gaze.
Content, he turned back to the speaker. A human leader — an American general — was talking about their expectations from Roden and his people in exchange for a peace treaty, and more importantly, amnesty for his people. Earth was now entering into the next stage in its evolution.
Blah, blah, blah.
Time was of the essence. With nearly all their power cells on Earthside updated, the Sephians could now return to Sephia. In fact, Apolo would be taking the first humans to Sephia on his return trip next month. All the Sephians could return home if they wanted. But the humans had made it clear. No more came to Earth without prior clearance.
The situation was much different for Draeken. Even if Roden signed a peace treaty with Apolo on Earth, his people wouldn’t be welcomed on Sephia. Earth was still their best shot, and he planned to make it work.
The humans had treaded carefully throughout negotiations. They knew Roden was the only thing standing between the core ships and Earth. As Sommers said, they were smart enough to not “poke the bear.”
Until Roden could gain control of all four core ships, the war was at a standstill, but it was still a war. Apolo still called him Kreed in private, but they’d both agreed that Lord Commander Roden Zyll could accomplish far more for the Draeken people. He’d never given it much thought about which identity he’d maintain. He figured he’d be dead by now. Surprisingly, Kreed won him the support of Apolo, while Roden maintained Draeken backing. Rather than canceling each other out, it seemed as though the two identities had merged seamlessly into one. The first — and only thing — this month that had been easy.
While the general talked of demands, Roden knew two things damn well. First, the general couldn’t refuse the Draeken technology and knowledge Roden offered, or else another country on this world would make a bid for it. The United Nations forces couldn’t flat-out take the technology without a war on their hands. And second, Roden would accept any proposal to secure a place for his people on this new world. It made for a precarious peace indeed.
As if to sweeten the deal, the Americans had walked in Talla, one of his best soldiers taken during the same battle in which he’d attained Nalea. He knew it was the general’s way of saying, “You want her back? You sign the treaty.”
Talla looked unharmed and healthy. Her wings were banded and her wrists were restrained, but she looked strong and well. A human soldier he recognized stood at her side. There seemed an ease between them that Roden found odd. The soldier had positioned her in the corner. Whether it was for her protection or for the protection of those in the room, Roden suspected both and he made a mental note to keep tabs on that particular soldier.
Talla, with her head held high, scanned the room, finally coming to meet his gaze. Roden smiled, and she gave him a nod. It was good to see her, but what of Laze, Talla’s brother, as well as the others taken at Club Mayhem? Roden suspected he wouldn’t like the answer much at all. But he’d deal with that issue later.
“So, you will move all your people to this base, and we’ll transfer any remaining Draeken we have to you,” the general said. “But you’re a feudal race. How can we trust you to not attempt to dominate us?”
They misinterpreted Roden during negotiations. While Roden had said he’d move his people on Earthside to the human base, he said nothing about the core ships orbiting in this solar system, where most of his people remained. Upon hearing of the death of Hillas Puftan, three of the four core ships had quickly pledged full allegiance to Roden. His people understood the value of Earth and the importance of peace.
The fourth ship, however, never responded, making it clear to which ship Otas had fled. Though they knew their Hillas was a doppelganger through Roden’s communiques, that ship was clearly under the control of the imposter — either by force or by apathy. He glanced up at the general, cocked a half-grin and replied simply, “You’re incorrect, General. I’ve never been a feudalist. I’m an anarchist.”
That didn’t appease the human one bit. Roden sat back and listened to him drone on and on, knowing that within days, a week at most, they’d sign a peace treaty, and his people — at least those on Earthside — would be safe. For now.
• • •
And sure enough, two days later, Roden signed his name to a piece of paper filled with long words and detailed rhetoric. He smiled at the primitive custom. All Draeken currently Earthside — four hundred and sixty four, to be exact — would live on this base, brought in as full American citizens. Talla had been released, as well as the three survivors of Club Mayhem, but he’d yet to see them. Talla stood behind him, with a human soldier who never left her side.
His people were to be incorporated into the current military structure, all with ranks comparable to their current positions. Roden would be a general, a rank lower than his current status, but deemed acceptable.
They would remain incognito until which time the United Nations aligned with other governments around the world and communicated their existence. Then, his people would be able to live where they desired. In exchange, Roden freely offered their technology and knowledge, propelling human science hundreds of generations forward. Somehow, he suspected the humans would move very, very slow.
The humans clearly felt like they’d won. They gained undreamed of power while keeping both Draeken and Sephians under their control. And yes, a hard rock sat in Roden’s stomach, knowing how fragile the balance of power was. But, what the humans didn’t realize was that these concessions were minuscule compared to the survival of his race and of a long awaited dream being realized.
My people will live in peace.
Instead of setting down the pen he used to sign his name, he held it out to Nalea who stood several feet away. Her eyes narrowed before widening in understanding.
Roden turned to the general. “As you said, the Draeken are a feudal people. I’ve signed my name, but a member of the royal family should also sign to ensure the Draeken people are fully represented.”
The general looked confused, and Apolo stepped forward, clearly displeased. “You sure you want to do this?” he asked quietly.
Roden raised a brow.
Apolo nodded, his lips thin. “It would make the treaty acceptable by Draeken loyal to the Puftan bloodline.”
“I thought Hillas was the last member of the royal family,” the general said.
Nalea stepped forward and yanked the pen out of Roden’s hand. “I’m Nalea Puftan Zyll,” she said, sounding like a Grand Lord, and pride struck Roden’s heart. She glanced back to Sienna, who Roden noticed looked aghast, before she turned once again to the general. “I am the daughter of the late Grand Lord Hillas Puftan and
tahren
to Lord Commander Roden Zyll. I sign my name on behalf of the royal family and to unite the Puftan and Zyll names. The Draeken people are fully represented in this treaty.”
Whispers erupted across the room as Nalea signed her name. Roden found himself standing in shock at Nalea’s bold proclamation. She dropped the pen on the table and spared a glance in Roden’s direction. Her thoughts were clear.
You better not screw this up.
Nalea had done her best to avoid Roden after signing the treaty. He’d never made anything easy for her, and she didn’t expect her to start now. Even though he was right, his actions infuriated her, outing her in such a public fashion. Begrudgingly, she saw his point. If she hadn’t come forward, not all the Draeken would support the treaty, leading to infighting and more violence.
Suvaste
, there’d been too much of that already.
Ever since the death of Hillas, taking his place had been her destiny. With her capitulation, she’d effectively united the Draeken under the same peace treaty as the Sephians while branding Otas an outlaw if his core ship did not surrender to Roden’s rule.
But, damn, Roden didn’t have to be so obvious. First, he’d tattooed her
soullare
onto his wings. While a part — all right, a large part — of her found it romantic, another part still found it hard to come to terms with the obvious linkage of her to a Draeken.
She stood near her bunk, packing her small duffle, knowing that she’d have to relocate to Roden’s room now. Something she’d craved and feared ever since getting back. She’d heard her best friend enter before Sienna spoke.
“Wow. I never saw that coming,” she said. “It blows my mind.”
“Yeah, it blows all right,” Nalea replied.