Page 50 of Akur

“Wrong?” Constance forced the word past the knot of fear in her throat. “Wrong how? Isn’t that what you do?” Her voice rose, months of suppressed terror and rage bubbling to the surface. “Isn’t that why you brought me and the other women here? To br—” The word stuck like poison in her mouth. She swallowed hard and tried again. “To breed us?” The thought alone made her stomach heave.

The Tasqal seemed to stand taller, looking down at her with an intensity that made her want to step back, to run, to hide. But she held her ground. When it spoke again, its voice dropped to barely above a whisper, as if it was sharing some dark secret.

“What if I told you there was something far worse for you than being bred?” Those membrane-covered eyes seemed to glow in the dim light. “Something that could tear apart the very fabric of existence?”

Akur raised his blade again. “Stop speaking in riddles, scum.”

“Not riddles,” the Tasqal replied. “Truth. We have…come upon interesting technology. Technology that can bend the fabric of the void. Take us to worlds unknown. Transport beings across space…” It paused, those black eyes seeming to expand. “…and time.”

Akur’s breath hissed between his teeth as he resumed his pacing. The sound of his footsteps was even harder now, echoing off the stone walls.

Something wasn’t right. Her instincts were giving her mixed signals. The Tasqal was like a serpent—deadly, yes, but not striking. Not yet. He was dissecting her piece by piece, but the malice she expected…wasn’t there.

“We found something,” the Tasqal continued, taking another step closer. It was barely a foot closer, but Akur’s blade shot past her shoulder, the tip reaching the center of the Tasqal’s throat with deadly precision. The creature stopped moving but continued speaking as if the blade wasn’t there at all. “Deep in the void of the empty. A Vikteki vessel, preserved in the cold darkness for eons.”

“The Vikteki?” Akur’s grip on his sword tightened until she could hear the leather wrapping creak. “They vanished long ago. Their technology was destroyed.”

The Tasqal’s lips curved in that unsettling almost-smile again. “I see you have not heard from your ally yet. The Kyron you call V’Alen.”

Akur went rigid beside her, the heat rolling off him intensifying until she could barely breathe. The Tasqal was referring to the cyborg and Alaina. What did they have to do with this?

“Yes,” the Tasqal continued, smile widening unnaturally. “He and the human he claimed still live. And they have something of ours. They have the orb.”

She glanced up at Akur. His jaw was locked like a steel trap.

She forced her expression to remain neutral, every instinct screaming that this was a game of strategy where showing too much could be fatal. Each word felt like a chess piece being moved across a board she couldn’t fully see.

She was happy her voice remained steady. “What about this orb?”

“Yesss, the orb,” the Tasqal’s voice took on an almost reverent quality. “Technology not even as powerful as that orb led us toyourworld.” It paused, those black eyes boring into her soul. “To humans. My people want it back.”

“Do you really think we will just hand it over to you?” She met that alien gaze, though her heart threatened to burst from her chest. “Do you really think we’ll barter our lives for it?”

The sound of bubbles popping in the Tasqal’s throat as it laughed made her go still. Even with Akur’s blade still at its throat, it showed no fear. The creature’s confidence terrified her more than any threat could have.

“Why did you choose us?” The question burst from her before she could stop it. “Why humans?”

“Because you are the key.” The Tasqal’s voice grew softer now, almost intimate. As if it was stating something she should have already known. And she did, because not long before, Akur had said those same words. “Your species…you carry something in your makeup. Something we have searched for. And we found it after so very long.”

The way it said those words sent ice through her veins. There was weight there, meaning she couldn’t quite grasp.

Akur snarled, his patience waning. “More lies. You seek only to use them as you have used others. As breeding stock for your dying race.”

“Perhaps…” the Tasqal’s shoulders moved like it shrugged. “But we only found them because of that Vikteki vessel. It had records…information left behind of the Vikteki seeding worlds. Of our ancestors being placed on a minor planet dubbed HREX4X1.” Its lips curved as its gaze landed on her once more. “You call it Earth.”

Constance’s breath caught. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” the Tasqal took another step forward, deliberately pressing into the blade at its throat, “that when we found your species, we weren’t seeking your wombs. We were seeking a cure.”

She stepped forward, too, anger rising hot and wild in her chest. Her lips pulled back in a snarl that matched Akur’s. “Then why didn’t you take your cure andleave?”

The Tasqal released a breath that smelled antiseptic despite its decaying skin. “There was no cure. Our ancestors have not evolved. Theydevolved. They became…stunted. Weak. Mere insects compared to you humans.” Its voice filled with disgust and disdain, the first genuine emotion she’d seen from it. “We believed, at first, that your planet held the genetic key to reversing this…devolution. To restoring us to our former glory.”

It paused, those dark eyes gleaming with something that made her want to run again. “Then we discovered something far more…intriguing. Your females…they could carry our young. Not all survived, of course. The process…is taxing. But some did. And one…one female spawned a paired birth. Two young from a single bearer. Unheard of in our kind. Such fecundity…such potential…”

The Tasqal leaned in so close she could see every pulsing boil underneath the hood it wore, every minute detail of its alien features—right before its head snapped sideways with a sickening crack.

Akur growled, his fist still extended from the punch that had sent the Tasqal sprawling across the table. He advanced like a stalking animal, but Constance grabbed his arm, feeling the fever-heat of his skin beneath her fingers.

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