Page 150 of Alien Haven

Mitag shrugged. “Haven was the chance for a new start, where no one knew who my family was. So here I am, and now you know…because I trust you three to accept me for who I am rather than the acts of my father.”

“Damn right we will,” Charity vowed.

He swallowed. “I’d do anything to have a family who cares about me. Even if it’s just a family of friends, though I won’t pretend I don’t wish for more.”

Charity lost her battle against the tears and wept openly. Ilid reached for Mitag and gripped his shoulder. “I’m sorry for all you suffered. I can’t believe people made your life such a struggle. Especially your own family. I mean, you were the victim!”

Mitag regarded him. “So were you. Despite the way I was treated, I’m still the caregiver my breed designation says I am. I haven’t questioned my role as an Imdiko. Your past won’t keep you from being an excellent clan leader, Dramok.” His attention went to Detodev. “You haven’t shared your history, but I’m familiar enough with you despite your efforts to keep me at a distance. You’re as Nobek as you can be.”

“My story is nothing like yours,” Detodev insisted, but his demeanor spoke of contemplation rather than dissent. “Whathappened to you happenedtoyou. I bring my own shit on myself.”

“Let us help you not do so then.”

“After hearing the hell you went through? As if your pain is to be set aside for me? Are we really supposed to move on from your suffering so quickly?”

“I have. Sure, I have nightmares on occasion, but I’m in therapy. Have been for years, and it’s done me a world of good. I have excellent coping exercises.” Mitag offered a rueful chuckle. “Except for my admittedly obsessive search for the love I never had, I’ve put together a pretty great life. So yes, let’s move on.”

“I can’t dismiss your pain so easily.” Detodev scowled.

Mitag sighed, but his attention on the Nobek held warmth and compassion. “Listen to me, you big thug. I came from a house of death and another of rejection. I still give a shit about you. That’s how I know there’s no reason you can’t be the man you were meant to be. Ditto for Ilid.” He sat up straight. “Prove me wrong.”

“Fine,” Backed into the proverbial corner, Detodev answered the challenge. “How many pacifist Nobeks have you met?”

Mitag’s and Ilid’s brows rose in tandem. “You’re a pacifist?” Ilid’s tone was surprised.

Detodev didn’t answer right away. It was as if he waited for them to laugh at him. When they merely regarded him with bright interest, he huffed. “I try my best to be. I’ve hurt people when my temper’s gotten out of control.Reallyhurt them. Which shouldn’t be a surprise, since Nobeks find violence so damned easy. I don’t want to be this way, a thoughtless animal who snaps if someone looks at him wrong. I refuse to be the very thing I despise most.”

Charity wished she had a magic wand to wave over them all so their issues would be fixed. “There’s gratuitous violence, thenthere’s protectiveness, which is the trait of a true Nobek. You proved to me yesterday a true Nobek is who you are when you tried to catch my attacker.”

“A true Nobek? Don’t make me laugh. My father carries a scar on his face from when he had to stop me from attacking my mother.” Detodev waved at the closest portrait.

Ilid kept his tone steady and non-accusing. “I wondered where he’d gotten his mark of honor.”

“There was no honor in it. Just a Nobek brat throwing a tantrum.”

Mitag considered the portrait, which included Detodev and his siblings. “The scar looks years old in that picture, and you’re still a boy…maybe ten? Younger? You must have been really little when the incident happened.”

“What does it matter how old I was? I was enraged when my mother told me I couldn’t have a treat I wanted. A treat! Such aggression can’t be excused.”

“You told me you were four when it happened,” Charity reminded him. They’d shared a lot of themselves beyond sex in the barn. “It’s the age when little Nobeks usually start acting out, isn’t it, when the first sign of their breed category begins to show?”

“She’s right,” Ilid said. “I used to hear Nobek friends in the fleet talk about it when they compared stories about wrecked houses and injured parents.”

“My point,” Detodev growled. “Nobeks are primitive beasts from the word go.”

“I guess humans are too.” Charity chuckled. “Name the three-year-old who ran through her house screaming and pulling down curtains…and bit her mother no less than four times and drew blood? All because I couldn’t have a cookie half an hour before dinner.”

Detodev stared at her. “You bit her over a snack?”

“We have similar stories, huh? You were no different from a gazillion kids, my friend. You’re positively banal in how typical you were.”

“My breed is known for its violence, though.”

“Particularly at certain stages of development, same as the rest of us. Your early childhood temper tantrums, no matter how intense, aren’t exclusively a Nobek thing.” Charity smirked. “Alltoddlers are malicious terrorists, the exception being my irritatingly perfect sister.”

“I recall my share of fits,” Ilid agreed. “Maybe Nobeks get a bad rap simply because they’re Nobeks.”

“Good point. I was beyond awful, especially where chocolate and sugar were concerned.” Charity eyed the cheesecake significantly. “I may have failed to outgrow it. I say we start in on dessert before we pry Ilid’s story from him, or I might indulge inmyviolent urges.”

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