Chapter 18

EIGHTEEN

For the next two rotations—while he waited to visit Bea, hovering on a knife’s edge of anticipation—Mavrel was struck with a sense of dread he couldn’t properly explain.

Sometimes, it morphed into a feeling of impending doom.

He tried to shake it off by busying himself with his various projects.

Sometimes, it worked.

Other times, he found himself thinking about Zharek and his terrible predicament.

Of course, after he’d come to terms with what Zharek was attempting to do, he’d offered to assist in whatever way possible. For the medic to have his mate right within his grasp and yet not be able to fulfill his destiny… was terrible beyond imagining.

He had no right to be judging Zharek.

And yet, he was a little scared of him.

Medic, scientist, architect of grand schemes, and unpredictable rebel.

Zharek had designed the Exogenesis program. He’d created the First Division, wiped their memories, and engineered a mechanism that caused their amnesia to gradually disappear over time.

Was it any coincidence that they’d been memoryless just long enough for Tarak to establish his supremacy within the Imperial Military—becoming so powerful he was able to stage a coup on the most feared empire in the Nine Galaxies?

Was it all just coincidence, or was Zharek so clever that he’d predicted everything that would come to pass?

The problem was, he couldn’t really know for certain, and Zharek wouldn’t ever reveal himself to that extent.

If Zharek ever figured out how to capture consciousness and insert it inside another body… or, dare he say it, bring the dead back to life…

Kaiin’s Hells.

This was the New Order. The empire was gone. Their enemies were vanquished. Earth and humans were under Darkstar’s impenetrable protection?

So why did he feel so uneasy?

Mavrel was no visionary, but even he understood the implications of that kind of power.

Several times, he’d thought about going to Tarak to reveal what he’d discovered, but then he remembered how desperate Zharek had sounded.

The medic whose actions had helped topple an empire from within without anyone realizing until it was too late…

For now, Mavrel decided to let him do his thing.

After all, Zharek was correct about one thing.

Mavrel owed him.

If Zharek hadn’t intervened, Mavrel wouldn’t be here right now, dressing in yet another fine kashkan —a deep burgundy one this time—and preparing to travel to Earth to meet his fated mate.

Zharek’s intentions had been good, and he was so very fortunate that it had all gone smoothly.

He didn’t take any of it for granted.

Truth be told, he was even a little nervous.

What if… she changed her mind?

No.

Not her.

Bea was the kind of person who meant what she said.

She wouldn’t have asked him to come to her home if that was the case. From what Mavrel understood, being invited into a human’s private space was a very big deal indeed. It conveyed a certain amount of trust, respect, and goodwill. It meant she wanted to treat him to her hospitality.

According to human custom, if he wanted to make a good impression, he should bring a gift.

So Mavrel had taken some time out and gone shopping at the nearest galactic trading station. After much deliberation, he’d chosen a finely crafted piece of Veronian porcelain, organically shaped and ornate, an elegant vessel that could be used to contain drinks or whatever else she desired.

Nothing like it could be found on Earth.

He hoped Bea would like the design.

The Veronian seller had carefully packed it in a round and sturdy yet disintegrable container made of lightweight plant fibers.

Mavrel finished dressing and tied up his long hair. He picked up the gift and made his way toward the docking bay, where a small cruiser was waiting to transport him to Earth.

Traveling to Earth was simple enough.

Now that the krael had been vanquished and the human Federation had semi-officially relinquished their power of governance over the human population, trips from the Fleet Station to Earth were so commonplace it might as well be designated as one of the planet’s official outposts.

From now on, the Fleet Station would be based in Sector Nine.

The outermost ring of the Nine Galaxies might as well become the center of the Universe.

He walked up the ramp into the ship.

The hatch closed.

“You have the coordinates,” he told the pilot, Rukan, who poked his head around the corner as he heard Mavrel enter. “We should go in heavily cloaked. I don’t want to draw attention.”

“I’ll be as discreet as darkness,” Rukan gave him a conspiratorial look. “You want me to stay hanging or come back later?”

“Don’t wait around. I’ll comm you when I need a return flight.”

“Got it. I’ll find something to keep me busy in the meantime.” Rukan disappeared behind a screen of Qualum, leaving Mavrel to sink into his seat and watch the Universe outside as the ship rose into the air, navigating through the vast docking bay.

Through the airlock.

Out into the cold void of space, where he’d spent most of his life.

It wasn’t too long before they were punching through Earth’s atmosphere, through the thick clouds, honing in on Bea’s home city of Sydney.

And at the mere thought of her, his Mating Fever, which had been subdued for the past three rotations, returned with full force, momentarily chasing away his unease.

The ship slowed as it went lower in altitude, gliding over a motley arrangement of rooftops old and new, low and high.

It was late in the daylight phase, and the sun was beginning to slide beyond the horizon, painting the cityscape with golden light.

Protected from behind ultraviolet-filtering glass, Mavrel was quietly entranced. The cities of Earth were simplistic and imperfectly designed, and yet there was a certain charm to the way humans arranged themselves. Orderly rows. Carefully sculpted vegetation. Shiny, polished glass-and-stone hubs for congregating in large numbers. Bodies of water lined with walkways and paved spaces where humans walked and children played.

Earth was vibrant. Spontaneous. Resonating with the energy of the sun’s light and millions of human bodies.

In the fading daylight, the city glowed.

They drifted over a densely populated residential area, where the buildings appeared older and simpler, and the vegetation was denser. Hard black roads snaked between the complexes, allowing wheeled vehicles to navigate through.

Humans were walking around, some of them being led by small furry animals on leads. Dogs, they were apparently called. Infernal things, just like that small black beast Tarak had adopted. It went by either Bumpy or Ragakorr, depending on who was calling it.

The cursed creature had never allowed Mavrel to go near it, disappearing in a blur of black fur whenever he was in sight.

Temperamental thing.

He didn’t understand why a former General of the Imperial Kordolian Military would be interested in such a creature in the first place, but who had ever understood Tarak’s mind, anyway?

“We’ve arrived,” Rukan announced as the cruiser came to a stop above the rooftop terrace of Bea’s residential complex.

“Thanks, brother.” Mavrel carefully cradled his package in one arm. He slipped on a pair of dark lenses to protect his sensitive eyes and stepped through the hatch as it opened, leaping from the invisible ship onto the rooftop.

He landed easily, his soft boots barely making a sound.

Then, it was a simple matter of crossing the rooftop, entering through the open door, and descending the flight of stairs just like Bea had described until he was on the sixth floor.

He went down the quaint, breezy corridor—which was open on all sides—until he reached a door that was bright yellow.

Yellow.

He’d never seen such a color on any functional item in the Universe.

How audacious.

It was totally her.

Mavrel heard the soft patter of footsteps—unmistakably hers.

Even before she came to the door, he detected her tantalizing scent. Her presence enveloped him from behind the solid barrier, a prelude to the excitement of their meeting.

He, who usually planned out everything in advance, right down to the smallest detail, had no idea what to expect.

It was strangely exhilarating.

Suddenly, the door was open, and he found himself staring at the most glorious creature he’d ever encountered in his life.

“Hello, Mavrel.”

She smiled.

His heart burst. It felt like his insides had turned into energy, infinite particles of light spreading throughout his body.

She was dressed simply in a cream-coloured dress made of coarse natural fabric. Otherwise unadorned, she’d elegantly arranged her hair atop her head, the style accentuating her natural beauty and exposing the elegant column of her neck, which he longed to press his lips against.

The way she was dressed now was such a contrast to her bold glamour at the Cultural Event, and yet she was no less stunning.

Sunlight filtered through the windows on the far side of her dwelling, framing her in a halo-like glow.

His mouth curved into a smile before he even realized it. She was just so radiant. “Hello, Beatrice.”

“Why don’t you come in?”

At her invitation, Mavrel stepped across the threshold and into her small human space. As the door closed behind him, he felt as if he’d stepped out of the vast Universe into a world of her creation.

A safe, enchanted place, away from the harshness of the Universe, her dwelling was unlike anything he’d ever seen before. The furnishings appeared old—they were constructed from organic timbers and fabrics. Soft mats woven into intricate designs covered the hard tile floors. Pictures adorned the walls, depictions Mavrel couldn’t even have fathomed, for they were unrealistic and brightly colored, the lines distorted and swirling, strange hand-created renderings coming together in the most unlikely of ways to create a cohesive whole.

Almost every part of every wall was covered in these pictures. Some were contained within square and rectangular frames and sealed behind glass. Others were unframed, the images rendered directly onto coarse, tautly stretched material.

She’d arranged the images in an order that probably made some sort of sense in her human mind, although Mavrel couldn’t decipher it.

Greenery was everywhere, with plants in decorative clay and porcelain pots adorning shelves, tables, and corners.

He inhaled deeply, savoring the delicious aroma of spices and cooking. Like most Kordolians, Mavrel had never been one to appreciate the act of consuming food—he’d considered it little more than nutrition and sustenance—until he’d visited Earth.

Humans had shown them how to enjoy food. Mavrel had learned that even simple meat could be enhanced with the addition of seasonings and spices.

Based on the mouthwatering smell, he was pretty sure Bea had prepared some sort of meat.

Caught in a state of blissful sensory overload, he was nearly brought to his knees when she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him.

He embraced her back, wrapping his arms around her neck, slipping one hand down the elegant curve of her back.

She tilted her face upwards, lips slightly parted, in a demure yet explicit invitation.

There was no force in the Universe that could have held him back from kissing her then. His lips pressed against hers, and he tasted warmth and spice.

She kissed him back tenderly, hungrily.

“I missed you,” she whispered, running her fingers down the lapel of his kashkan. “Since then, I’ve thought about you every waking minute of every day.”

“You could have called me sooner,” he rumbled, helpless to do anything but hold her in his arms. “I would have come in a heartbeat.”

“I know, and I’m sorry for making you wait. It’s just that, from a human perspective, what happened between us on the Fleet Station was so impossible, so improbable for someone like me to experience or even comprehend that I just needed a little time to process it all. It isn’t that I didn’t want to see you. I just needed to feel a little in control of my life. I hope you can understand.”

“I understand that humans are complicated beings,” Mavrel replied softly. “And that this is a drop of time compared to what I want to have with you. And we are a complicated entity, us Kordolians, and our arc through the Universe hasn’t been a smooth one, so it’s perfectly understandable that you’d have such thoughts.”

“I…” She blinked, her dark eyes filling with deep emotion. “I had a sense about you from the start. Anyway, it’s okay. I’m all good. I’ve spent the last three days pinching myself over all of this, but I had a chat with Clarissa, and that helped to ground me. It’s probably a good thing you and your friend snagged both me and my good friend at the same time. We’re basically partners in crime.”

“You are not a criminal,” Mavrel protested, unable to stand the thought of her doing anything cruel or illegal.

Bea laughed, and the rich sound of her voice filled him with relief and desire. “Figure of speech. It’s just a human saying. It means Clarissa and I got into this together, and we’re going to be there for each other.”

“I am… pleased that you have a friend to confide in.”

“And much, much more. I have you now.” She stroked his cheek with such gentleness and reverence that Mavrel almost felt unworthy. “Are you all right, Mavrel?”

“Me?” He blinked in surprise, unused to the notion of anyone asking such a thing. How very human of her. “What makes you ask?”

“Just a feeling.”

How very perceptive of her, almost preternaturally so. Were all humans this sensitive to thoughts and moods?

No . It was just her. She was exceptional.

“Nothing… that you should be concerned with.” Perhaps the darkness of Zharek’s predicament lingered somewhere in his actions and demeanor.

“You sure?”

“Yes.” Mavrel forced himself to bury the feeling. He’d dealt with much worse things, and the last thing he wanted was to take away from this rare and special meeting—only their third.

And yet, they’d done so much.

“Well, if you don’t feel you need to talk about it, that’s fine, too. Life isn’t meant to be all sunshine and rainbows.”

“That it isn’t,” Mavrel replied, getting the gist of what she was saying, figuring it was another one of her word plays. “But it seems you have no trouble finding the good in this life.”

She shrugged. A shadow crossed her face, so fleeting he thought he could have imagined it. “Some people think I’m naive, but really, I know how bad things can get. I just try to live in a way that means I’ll have no regrets at the end of it. I know what it’s like to nearly lose everything. When I was younger, I got really sick with a rare autoimmune disease, to the point where I nearly died. Fortunately, I was accepted into a clinical trial for a new treatment. It worked. It saved my life, although it took me years to recover. It was only when I felt strong for the first time in my adult life that I got my tattoo of the Nile Lotus. It’s a plant that can survive in really poor conditions. But once it gets into deeper water, it thrives.”

Mavrel’s heart clenched. His precious mate had come so close to dying before they’d even had a chance to meet.

Suddenly, Zharek’s actions made even more sense.

He’d been wrong to think he could put things off until he deemed the time was right.

He should have just gone after her in the first place, from the very moment he’d encountered her in that Garner idiot’s building.

“You aren’t naive at all,” he whispered, holding her tighter. “Just strong.”

“Strong? Well, I’m in very deep water now, and I seem to be doing just fine, but that’s because you’re here with me.”