23. Roark

Unease colored my spots gray the moment we left planet Sha’hPihn. Mala and Ushuu were the only other people that understood my true trepidation.

It wasn’t the huu-mans themselves that worried me, or even that we now had sixteen extra mouths to feed—though that in itself was a challenge. I was concerned because the moment we had publicly boarded the ship with such precious cargo, I knew it was only a matter of time before someone tried to take the huu-mans back.

As a whole, the flock of huu-mans were quiet, sweet, mildly terrified—and not threatening in the slightest. Huu-mans were smaller than most species, their limbs weak and unchangeable. And all of them were so different-looking, it was fascinating. They had more varieties than Sahrks did when it came to coloring, and I knew I was not the only man on board who found that beautiful.

My crew was as enamored with them as I was.

And despite all that they had been through before joining us, there was no dissent amongst the tiny creatures, for which I was glad. I did not fear the huu-mans, but I did worry about their safety and their happiness. I worried for Huu-goh’s heart, because he had given it to them the moment he’d seen them at the auction.

Their peace was a relief.

Though my unease never fully faded.

Huu-goh and the prickly huu-man—Briar—had their work cut out for them. Watching my little mate come into himself as a leader was riveting. He spent as much time away from our room as I did now, tending to his people in the section of the ship we’d cleared for them. Less and less time was spent in the labs with Ushuu at first, but the elder Sahrk didn’t mind. He’d often be found down with Huu-goh and the huu-mans himself, enjoying their stories, and sharing some of his own.

His presence made a large difference, helping the huu-mans feel more at ease around us.

I always kept extra bunks in the cargo hold for emergencies and it had only taken a few hours on that first day to get an extra storage room set up for their flock. I wished I could offer more to them, but it wasn’t safe to linger. The target painted on our back made it imperative we seek the stars immediately.

My nightmares returned.

Every night, the same memory repeated.

Huu-goh tried to comfort me—and I tried to hide, but he saw right through me.

I was certain I wouldn’t be able to breathe again till we arrived safely home on Osheania. It was a month-long journey from Sha’hPihn. It would be the longest month of my life. Between my very real fears, and Huu-goh and my mating ceremony, there was a never-ending list of things to worry about.

“Roark,” Ushuu was gentle as he latched onto my elbow, pulling me aside. Huu-goh had been tinkering around inside the lab all day today—for the first time since we’d set off three weeks ago—and I’d finished my duties at the helm of the ship in time to catch him in action.

“You are going to worry yourself sick,” Ushuu frowned at me, his spots gray with concern.

“I cannot help it.”

Huu-goh sat obliviously on a stool across the room, fiddling with a machine on the counter. I had no idea what it was, and wasn’t certain I wanted to. My head was too full. Maybe when I felt more like myself, I’d ask.

Part of me wanted to pull him into our rooms and hide with him until all of this passed. But that was the coward’s route. And not one I would ever take. I was ashamed of myself for even thinking it.

Briar eyed me suspiciously from his seat beside my mate. He had stuck close to Huu-goh since the moment the huu-mans had come aboard. Almost like he was guarding him, as I did. I did not like the way Briar looked at me. As if he thought I was not what I said I was, and he was waiting for me to show my true colors.

It was a shame that one so small could be so injured.

His heart was battered and bruised, and I hoped time with my Huu-goh would help him realize that not all beasts were monsters.

“You can’t control the future,” Ushuu said as he gave my arm a gentle rub, his tendrils finding mine and winding us together in a soothing squeeze. “You are exhausting yourself to the point of weakness. Should something happen, do you not think your strength would be your greatest asset?”

He had a point.

I grunted, then sighed, dropping my head in shame. “I don’t know if I can survive it a second time.” I wished I was being dramatic, but it was the truth. My darkest truth. Gnarled, broken, brittle. “The first time I did not have much, and still, having that taken nearly broke me. Now I have everything . I cannot afford to lose my heart so soon after I found it.”

Ushuu would understand better than anyone.

He’d lived through my worst nightmare.

Huu-goh must have sensed my distress because he turned, his bright eyes dimming as a worried twist curled his lips. He was off his seat and across the room in seconds, looking between the two of us with concern. “What’s wrong?” he asked in his own language.

“Huu-goh is okay,” I promised him, so he wouldn’t worry that he was in danger. His lovely brown eyes peeked at me through his fluffy orange fur. It was longer now than ever, and hung over his forehead. I enjoyed it, maybe a little too much.

Ushuu rolled his eyes at my hypocrisy.

“Are you okay?” Huu-goh scowled, tapping his cute little toes on the ground impatiently. It had been three weeks of this. Of me skirting around his questions, avoiding his concern. Pampering and loving him in the quiet of our room, and pretending like danger hadn’t sunk its claws inside our ship. Like I wasn’t trying to outrun fate.

“I…” I smiled, hoping my spots didn’t betray me. “I am okay.”

“Liar,” Huu-goh reached up, his tiny hands trying to get to my face. He didn’t care that we had an audience, and truthfully, I didn’t either. I released my mentor, tendrils twining around my love’s little body so that I could haul him high enough he could reach. “ Roark .”

“Little beast,” I murmured, nuzzling his sweet cheeks. “I am fine,” I promised gently.

“ Roark ,” he tried again, obviously concerned.

“ Huu-goh, ” I countered just as seriously. Huu-goh’s lips wobbled, and a snicker burst free. My worries melted away. He babbled something I didn’t understand, far too fast for me to catch the words despite how many of them I knew now. Then he kissed me, slow and sweet, his little tongue twisting out to meet mine—the way Sahrks mated with their mouths.

I shuddered.

“You guys are dihsguhsting,” Briar huffed. He’d walked over while we’d been tongue-kissing. I separated from Huu-goh’s mouth, watching Huu-goh’s pale friend curiously. I did not need to know the word “dihsguhsting” to know it was not complimentary.

However, I saw the way Briar looked at us with a mixture of jealousy and affection, so I was not offended.

“It will be okay,” Huu-goh said softly to me in his own tongue, one of his little hands sinking into my chest. He ignored his friend’s comments, his attention mine and mine alone. His fingers tangled with my tendrils as he smiled encouragingly. Apparently it was his turn to comfort me.

I hate this.

I never wanted to show him this side of myself.

It was my purpose to be strong—to be…big enough, smart enough, capable of protecting him.

I could remember the day that haunted my thoughts as clearly as if it had happened yesterday. I’d been a new recruit and the tragedy had occurred during my first voyage. Captain had been a practical man, his eyes only found the stars when he was looking toward where we were traveling. If he had dreams, he never spoke of them, but he was always warm.

He was everything I’d always wanted to be.

Reliable, tough, no-nonsense.

From the day we’d boarded and he’d caught me jotting down notes, he’d taken a liking to me. I climbed through the ranks rapidly, lucky enough to be chosen as a runner for him and Ushuu early on. After six months traveling through the stars we’d settled into a pattern together. Most of my days I shadowed Captain and Ushuu around the ship—learning all there was to learn, aiding them when they needed errands run or messages relayed. As a nervous, but eager young man, his wealth of knowledge and example had meant the world. Captain was the one that had taught me that I could work through my difficulties talking.

He told me he had struggled as I did when he was young. It was hard to believe, seeing him for what he was now. Grizzled and aged, hard edges, and wrinkled surface. His spots never changed color, always blue.

Everything Captain said was spoken with purpose.

I hung on every word.

Not because he was perfect, but because he spent every moment he could making sure that I understood that there was no shame in strength built from hard work. He wanted me to turn my weaknesses into assets. He said that if I was stubborn, if I never gave up, one day I could man the ship on my own.

I’d always been large—gifted with a stature that turned most heads back home. But I had never had the gift of communication. My thoughts were often hard to articulate, they came out clumsy, especially when I was nervous. There had been many times in my life that I wished I was better. There had been even more occasions that I’d been convinced my struggles communicating would prevent me from achieving my dream of commanding a ship myself.

Captain taught me to work hard.

He taught me so long as you were trying, you were succeeding.

So I took notes. I devoured his words. I followed behind him, his loyal pink shadow. I guarded his room when Ushuu visited, redirecting traffic so that they could have privacy. I tucked him inside my heart in the space beside my father, and I prayed to the stars that one day I could be half the Sahrk he was.

The day that the ship was attacked had been just like any other.

I’d made my bed, taken a shower, dressed in my uniform. With my bag slung over my shoulder, I’d woken my bunk mate, Kael up. He swore at me like he always did, annoyed to be roused so early. Then we’d made our way to the cafeteria. We roughhoused a bit down the halls, and he talked a mile a minute about what he’d do when we reached our first planet.

Kael had as many dreams as I did, but while mine involved chasing responsibility, his revolved around escaping as much of it as possible.

Captain and Ushuu had been at breakfast, like they often were. I was certain the majority of the ship had no idea that they were together, as they’d never officially mated. It was a wonder they hadn’t noticed when it was obvious how much they cared for one another.

We’d eaten together and things had been fine.

They’d been fine.

Captain asked me how I slept—I said “good”. Ushuu passed me a bottle of water—and then?—

And then?—

The lights went out.

And the screaming started.

I tried to save them. I tried to fight. When the pirates entered the room, I challenged them—certain my strength, my gift, would be enough. Even rising to my full impressive height, the invaders were not intimidated.

It wasn’t enough.

Shots rang out, deafening and loud.

Kael hit the ground first, his dark, nearly black surface growing pale as blood pooled beneath his body. It was hard to see much in the dark, but I managed.

When I jumped in front of Captain, he yanked me out of the way—another bang sounding loud enough my ears rang. I was close enough to him that I could see the wound that blossomed in the center of his forehead spot. Blue blood leaked down either side of his snout as his eyes grew cloudy and his spots paled, colorless and dead, just as Kael’s had.

He fell to the floor with a thud.

Before I could scream and attack—before I could so much as breathe, Ushuu yanked me to the ground.

Together we lay in the puddle of blood, as the world spun and spun and spun.

The pirates left to retrieve the cargo they’d been after.

Ushuu’s quick thinking had saved our lives.

I learned a lesson that day.

The most valuable lesson I’d ever learn.

Good things don’t last, so they need to be cherished. Coveted. Protected.

Because one day they’ll disappear.

Death takes no prisoners.

And I needed to be vigilant, if I wanted to keep the people I loved safe.