Chapter 48

FORTY-EIGHT

The tesseract was a strange thing.

Actually, it was beyond strange. It was dark, resonant, and metaphysical; thrumming in sync with the frequency of the Universe.

It stretched his soul toward the very edges of his body, right up to his bloodstained fingertips.

He should be afraid.

But he wasn't.

You're back. Jade's welcome, familiar voice rang in his head. She sounded unsurprised, unflustered. As if they'd been doing this for centuries. Whatever this is… you overcame it.

Almost. He still had to let the tesseract suck him back to wherever he was supposed to be. If Tarak intervened and changed the timeline back there… would things still be the same when he returned to the present?

It was madness that he was even considering this.

The only constant was her.

I felt it, you know. Something monumental. There was a giant disturbance. It seemed so unnatural and yet inevitable. I was scared for you, but I knew that if anyone could pull off the impossible, it would be you.

I'm pleased that you're finally starting to understand how I work. Even as he fell into the liminal space, the void between worlds that was both familiar and terrifying—the same well from which he drew upon to enter the state of qim— he was unafraid. In fact, having Jade with him made him feel rather indulgent, even though the Mating Fever had eroded his sanity to near breaking point.

After fighting while maintaining a state of invisibility for so long, he was finally starting to feel drained.

He'd been pushed far beyond his limits.

He'd held the state of qim for far longer than he'd thought possible.

And it was only possible because of his mate.

His sarien.

The one who had stayed with him just because he'd asked.

Because he needed her. He couldn't explain it. If he thought about it too deeply, he'd find it utterly confounding that he'd so very quickly become so dependent on another.

Now, he couldn't imagine an existence without her. He wanted nothing but to go back to the Fleet Station as soon as possible so he could be with her.

So he could claim her in the real, physical sense.

I know you, Dragek, she replied as the forces of the Universe dragged him back to another point in time. Time itself was a vast, gently undulating ocean from which he could surface at any point.

Unlike before, it was calm, almost a nurturing embrace.

I've seen what nobody else could. I saw into your mind's eye. What you've done. Where you came from. I'm not afraid of you. I don't despise you for what they made you into. You didn't have a choice in any of that. I've seen what you've become when you weren't held back or forced. Some people, if they had your existence, might have become terribly evil, but you aren't. So come back now, Dragek.

Come back to me.

The tesseract folded in upon itself. The fabric of time twisted and imploded.

Back there, in the Old Empire, where Tarak had gone, something was happening.

Everything was changing.

And yet, everything stayed the same.

Because of her.

She alone knew.

He fell.

Never before had he felt so helpless, so vulnerable. Not even when he'd been under the command of the Mistress. At least then, he'd been able to escape into the recesses of his mind, where he'd created his own world.

Now, it was hers, too.

And still, he plummeted.

She held on, saving him from careening into total madness.

Then, there was an existential pop , and suddenly, he was back.

Standing there.

A blade was in his hand, the tip pointed at the steady pulse in Amun Kazharan's neck. His other hand held the dagger that pinned the Kordolian's strange metal tail to the chair.

And he felt like he was about to tip over the edge.

This can't be happening.

He'd gone back to this point?

Had all of that just happened, or was he hallucinating? Had the Mating Fever driven him mad?

He had one job to do right now, which was to make certain Amun understood that there was very little standing between the prince and certain death if he did anything stupid.

He was in his skinsuit. His hands were not yet tainted by Kordolian blood.

The prince stared back at him, his single eye cold and unwavering, an insolent smirk hovering on his lips.

If this timeline was the same as the last, he knew what came next. In a moment, Tarak would appear.

Again.

And this Tarak would have no idea that the slightly-in-the-future version of himself had stepped back through time to intervene.

Or did he?

I can't…

The walls of his mind were caving in. The icy control he'd trained so long and hard to develop was nonexistent.

Of course, he remembered everything. That alone made him question his sanity.

Just like he'd predicted, Tarak appeared, as cold and indomitable as ever.

He and Amun exchanged terse words, following exactly the same script as before. But Dragek was so far gone their conversation barely registered.

He was barely present. The tip of his sword wavered slightly. He fought to maintain a sliver of consciousness—just enough to hold it steady.

Dragek. And then she was there, catching him with her steady presence. Her ka'qui was magnificent. She seemed to grow stronger with every passing moment.

How was it possible that she knew exactly what he needed?

You're not going insane. It wasn't your imagination. That really happened. I was there with you. I felt it. And now you're back, and time starts flowing again, and you have to let this play out. Don't waver. Don't question yourself. Just do what you do best. What you want to do.

Dragek took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. He centered himself and drew his ka'qui —which had become chaotic—back into his body.

She was here, with him.

She'd seen everything.

She shared that wild, mind-bending experience with him.

But she knew. She gave him the testament he so desperately needed.

She was the only one who completely understood him.

He was not going insane.

She was with him.

He closed his Second Sight and opened it again, just in time to hear Amun repeat the same words all over again.

Only in Amun's case, he was speaking for the very first time.

"You've logged our course," Amun replied. "You know where this ship is headed. We're close now. Close enough that you might just be able to avert a disaster of Universal proportions."

Ah.

So this is what it came down to.

The point where Amun was supposed to reveal the presence of the portals.

This was the turning point because if Tarak had changed the timeline back there, then everything from here on in would be different.

What had the general done?

How clever was he, really?

Too infernally clever for his own good.

"The portals are gone," Tarak said calmly, giving Dragek a knowing look. "The problem with ancient technologies— especially those invented by the Zor—is that most of them are beyond dangerous. Who would have thought that it would be possible for one to go back into the past and meddle with the fate of an entire Universe? Nobody should hold that power. There are no gods in my Universe, Amun Kazharan. Not now, not ever."

Amun's aura flared. His tail whipped up, taking Dragek's dagger with it.

Catching him off-guard.

He maintained his grip on the hilt as Amun tried to wrest his tail away.

The infernal appendage was unnaturally strong, forcing Dragek to channel ka'qui into his grip.

But his ka'qui wasn't as plentiful as it should be.

He was finally starting to tire.

Even the strongest of warriors could eventually be brought down by fatigue.

All the while, he maintained Tarak's blade at Amun's throat. That required the most ridiculous amount of control.

Is he completely mad?

Dragek could have killed him at any time.

And he'd had enough.

"Don't move," he growled. Then, he altered the angle of Tarak's sword, slamming it through Amun's left shoulder.

Amun let out a harsh grunt and whipped his tail around, wrenching the dagger out of Dragek's grasp. Suddenly, the cursed thing was coiling around Dragek's neck, dagger and all.

Dragek grabbed the hilt of the dagger and pulled it out. In an instant, he had it pointed directly at Amun's remaining eye.

They were caught in lockstep—Tarak's sword in Amun's shoulder, the metal tail coiled around Dragek's neck, and Dragek's own dagger poised to enter Amun's head at a nasty angle.

"You're insane," Dragek hissed.

Amun laughed. "I'll kill you, katach ."

"Then we'll end up killing one another. What do you want?"

"I just lost a very large piece of leverage, so I had to find another. Relent, or I'll destroy this entire fucking ship. All it takes is one command."

Dragek didn't notice Tarak moving in on them until he was standing right in front of them, staring down at Amun with an unreadable expression. "You won't."

"You think I'm bluffing? Try me."

"You won't because they are far too important to you," Tarak said calmly. "The females. The children. They are still onboard this ship. All of them are your offspring, aren't they?"

Amun froze. "They are not."

But there was a quiver in his aura; the mad prince wavered ever so slightly.

He was lying.

That made Dragek furious. "You forced those human females to…" His hand twitched. He was so close to killing Amun.

"I did not. " The prince's metal tail tightened, and Dragek's breathing became hoarse.

This time, he was telling the truth.

How was it possible, then?

That he could have sired that many offspring and those human females would have done so willingly?

Impossible.

Something was terribly wrong.

"They… they took it from me," he uttered, his voice cracking, revealing a side of him that Dragek could never have predicted—a part of him that was broken . "Before, when they fixed my body… they took it—my seed. They used it to create the hybrids— my descendants. I didn't even know until later, when I'd become powerful in my own right. It was… difficult to protect them without revealing my true intentions. You have no idea how hard it is to pretend to go along with some of the utter drivel those nobles believe in."

"Hm." Tarak raised one pale eyebrow. "Sometimes, it's necessary to conceal one's innermost thoughts until the time is right. But in doing so, you've thrown away your last bluff. You wouldn't destroy them. You intended to protect them from the very beginning. And you're smart enough to understand that we would do the same."

"I've received the briefings. Extensive ones. They scoff at the lengths you go to in order to protect humans. They call you foolish. Irrational. Soft. "

"Is that what you think?"

Amun's laugh was raw and bittersweet. "I think you want what they want, only you're more sophisticated in the way you go about it."

"And what might that be?"

"The survival of our species."

For a moment, Tarak's expression became terrifyingly cold. "Do not make the mistake of thinking I'm anything like the lords of the Noble Houses—those who want to take the Universe back to what it was under the Empire. Now, if you want us to go and retrieve that sibling of yours, you will release my man and stand down."

Amun's expression turned a little wild. His nostrils flared. He looked at Dragek, then at Tarak. Dragek sensed that behind his fierce gaze was a flurry of calculations. He was still furious, but it was contained. "I made no mistake waiting for you to arrive here. But this is a little unexpected. How did you know all of my darkest secrets, General? Are you a mind-reader, or is your trained katach one?"

"Neither of us can see what's inside your mind. But perhaps when you revealed the presence of the tesseract the first time, you knew that I would do something like this. For someone who has supposedly caused so much chaos, you appear to have a lot of faith in us, Amun Kazharan."

Still, he didn't relent, keeping Dragek's neck in the death grip of his tail. "That's because we're more alike than you think."

"That remains to be seen. Do you understand what this means for you?"

"You'll detain me, of course. Interrogate me. Possibly torture me. But you won't kill me."

"How can you be so certain?" Dragek hissed. He really was growing tired of this incessant pressure on his neck.

Amun shrugged. "I'm Xalikian's brother. Even I should be offered a chance at redemption, should I not, Silent One? "

"You presume a lot," Dragek snapped. In frustration, he glanced at Tarak. "Give him something so he can release me from this pointless chokehold already."

"We won't kill you," Tarak offered. "You will be detained until I decide whether you can be trusted or not. You will tell me everything I need to know in order to take down the remainder of your allies."

"Not my allies," Amun said bleakly. "I was playing the game in order to survive."

"You will be analyzed from head to toe. This technology that's been implanted in your body—you will reveal who created it and whether there are any others like you."

"I get to keep the tail. Without it, I'm a dead man."

"Hm." Tarak appeared unmoved.

"Release me now." Dragek gritted his teeth. His heart was beating faster than it should. He was filled with rage, and he couldn't do a thing about it. He hadn't felt this uncomfortable in many revolutions.

The desire to kill grew almost unbearable.

Stop.

And then, something happened.

It was Jade.

She channeled something through him—pent-up frustration, anger, fear, power.

A shockwave radiated through his ka'qui, moving outwards, hitting Amun and Tarak.

It was like an invisible, silent boom.

Tarak took a step backward.

Amun was caught by surprise. He released his tail's grip ever so slightly, and it was enough.

Thank you, my sweetest sarien.

Dragek reversed the direction of his dagger, loosening the thick metal loops of Amun's metal appendage—just enough to release himself.

He pushed with great force and then released the hilt of the dagger, unbalancing Amun. He dropped to his haunches, pivoting with Tarak's sword in one hand.

Then he rose to his feet and instantly had the tip of the sword pressed against Amun's temple, ready to strike if he did anything stupid.

"Kaiin's Hells," Amun whispered. "Sometimes, it's easy to forget what you Silent Ones are capable of. Fine. I agree to all of your terms, General."

"Easy enough to agree with a sword pointed at your head," Dragek said acidly, having had enough of Amun's tricks.

But secretly, he was pleased. That potent little burst of power radiating through his aura… it wasn't him.

That was all Jade.

Clearly, she'd grown tired of Amun's antics as well.

And she was far more powerful than anyone suspected. Imagine what she'd be like when she learned to control it.

All of a sudden, she retreated, releasing her grip on him at last.

He could still feel her, but her aura was faint. Instead of panicking, Dragek let out a small puff of relief.

She slipped away.

The last thing he sensed before he lost her presence entirely was that she'd fallen asleep.

She wasn't hurt. She wasn't in danger. She was in the center of the Fleet Station, one of the most heavily guarded places in the Universe.

She was safe.

Just tired, like him.

He couldn't believe he'd withstood the Mating Fever for this long, but the fact that he'd been able to channel his energy into fighting and maintaining qim had helped immensely.

After this, he would go to her.

He would finish what they'd started.

"Do you believe him?" Dragek asked Tarak. "Can I release him now?"

"You can," Tarak agreed. He turned to Amun. "You know better than to try anything stupid. My terms are as stated. In exchange, we will provide safety and freedom for your humans and their offspring. And I will personally oversee the mission to retrieve the one you claim to be your sister. Enough now. You will behave, Amun Kazharan."

"For now," the prince said softly. "As long as you uphold your end of the bargain."

Tarak gestured toward Dragek.

Dragek lowered his blade.

Amun lowered his metal-barbed tail, tucking it behind his augmented body. Actually, he was as physically imposing as any of the First Division warriors.

Who had made him this way, and why?

"Seems like I'm all out of options." Amun tapped the side of his head. "The only thing I have is what's inside here."

"They could just give you a truth serum," Dragek suggested.

"That won't work on me, I'm afraid." Amun bared his fangs. "But you can try."

Tarak summoned Kail through the comm. Moments later, the big warrior arrived, a set of Callidum restraints in his hands.

"Amun's our prisoner now," Tarak informed him. "Take him into custody. We'll transport him separately to the humans."

If Kail was in the least bit surprised, he didn't show it. He just grunted and followed Tarak's orders to the letter, swiftly enclosing Amun's wrists and ankles with the restraints. There was another one for the tail, attaching it to the same restraint that bound his wrists.

Then, a shock collar was clasped around Amun's neck.

It seemed rather excessive, but at the same time, it wasn't enough.

What had been so terrible that Amun had allowed himself to end up in this position?

Was he really so protective of the humans they'd found?

It was all very, very strange, but it wasn't Dragek's problem to worry about.

That was Tarak's job, and true to form, the general had already fixed the Kaiin-cursed timeline and destroyed the portals. Dragek didn't understand how he'd done it, but this was Tarak al Akkadian after all.

Nothing was impossible where he was concerned.

Dragek had found that out the hard way.

As Kail led Amun away, Tarak walked to his side.

He held out his hand, motioning for his sword.

Dragek offered it to him.

"You've done well," Tarak said as he took back his sword. "Saving the Universe is never an easy feat."

Tarak's tone was almost… un- serious.

What in the Nine Hells just happened?

He tried to replay everything in his mind. Jade's sudden and unexpected appearance. Her plight on Earth and his initial indifference.

Tarak and Ashrael's sudden interest in him—and trust.

Impossible.

Then, there was the mystery of his attraction to Jade, which had hit him hard and fast, blindsiding him.

After that…

Everything had spiraled out of control, and he hadn't been able to do anything but ride the currents until he found himself far away from his newfound sarien, bristling with the power of the Mating Fever and on the verge of doing the impossible—stepping into the Fourth Dimension to divert the worst possible outcome.

But that wasn't what had astounded him the most.

The most unbelievable thing about all of this was that he'd actually found his mate; his one-in-a-billion, his true sarien, and she was willing and eager.

She'd seen the darkness inside his mind and heart, but she hadn't rejected him.

In fact, she'd sought him out, becoming his anchor during the storm.

Freed of the Mistress, he'd found refuge in her acceptance.

He shuddered to think of what he might have become if he hadn't found her at that very moment. How terrifying that his entire state of being had depended on the existence of this sweet, innocent, surprisingly fearless human.

Tarak put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, flashing his fangs in an expression that was still so unfamiliar to Dragek, to the point where it was almost jarring—an actual smile. "I understand the feeling. It's a lot to process, and you, katach , look ragged. So take your leave now. You've done what nobody else could. You've executed your task with honor and freed yourself from the shackles of what might have been. You will be on the first ship to return to the Fleet Station. We'll take it from here. You have done enough."

At the mere mention of the Fleet Station—where she was—his heart beat a little faster. The Mating Fever had lost its edge, becoming a dull ache in the back of his consciousness. It was probably just because he was so tired, but he was certain that as soon as he saw her again, he would…

He didn't know what he would do.

Succumb to the madness in a good way, probably.

His thoughts swirled, failing to make any kind of coherent sense. All he could do was blink slowly and stare at the general in disbelief. "What did you do back there? And what… is to become of me now?"

"I left a warning for my past self in a place where only I would find it. A datacube that contained everything I needed to know. Nothing more, nothing less. That's all you need to know. As for you… we can have that discussion later. I believe you have more urgent matters to attend to."

"Indeed." Dragek's yearning spilled into his aura. He couldn't help it. He was stretched taut. If he didn't get relief soon, he would surely, eventually, break.

He wasn't even furious that Tarak had so very knowingly used him; used the phenomenon of his Mating Fever to forge him into a certain kind of weapon.

Tarak was a former Kordolian general. What else was he going to do?

"Then go, Dragek. Goddess knows you've waited long enough, and so has she."