Page 69 of Alien From Ashes

“He sleeps like the dead—”

“Just in case!”

I chuckle, following her as she drags me out the back door.

The yard has a kitchen garden and a wooden table with benches. Kaye leads me past them both until we reach the edge of the crops. The plots look a wreck, reminding me of what Kaye’s ex-mate said about the ruined crops he fixed “for her.” Off in the distance, this property backs up to a meadow dotted with pockets of brush.

“You were saying…?”

“The more time I spend with Raffa, the more I see myself in him. Not in his personality, of course. He’s much more energetic and happier in his disposition, which will serve him well, but I see the frustration inside. Mak, Niko, and I… when we grew up onThe Rightful Heir, those of our parents’ generation made certain that every Kar’Kali child stayed on the ship, fearing another Deadhead attack. But while their caution might’ve protected us, it also suffocated. There was nothing to distract from the open wounds we all had. One by one, we would grow frustrated and run away with whatever pirate crew that landed and was willing to take us or join the army at the earliest opportunity. Some even felt that waiting for mating age to join the ranks was not soon enough, so they made their way to the Alliance territories and joined their volunteer junior trainee programs. There was so much anger, and nothing else to focus it on but a desire for revenge. I made a lot of mistakes because I spent my youth that way.”

“What mistakes? Do you mean the uglier side of your job?”

“I don’t like talking about this, but you deserve to know something so important to me before I leave you here,” I say.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” she insists. “Not if it hurts.”

“You’re too good,” I tell her, placing her hand between my palms and squeezing gently. I never want to let her go. Walking away from this little moon will be difficult. “No, it’s… it hurts, but it’s an old wound. You see, I have a brother. A real brother, younger than me. And there was a terrible attack by the old Kar’Kali regime, the ones that we call Deadheads. That attack on Mak’s ship, which was then helmed by his father, was a landmark tragedy. It’s what first connected Mak, Niko, and I, as all our parents were killed that same day. My brother and I survived. But those Deadheads decided that they would take all the children young enough to be integrated into their society. They used chips to suppress the hormones that create the mating call. Any child young enough to have it installed was taken.”

“No,” she murmurs, stepping closer. “They stolechildren?”

“My brother included,” I confirm what she’s already assumed. “I vowed I would get him back. So I made a deal with a sworn captain who seemed to see something in my resolve. I would do anything for him if he helped me get my brother. And that male… Well, looking back now that I’ve reached the age he was when he took me on, I can clearly see he wasn’t right in the head. I thought he was making me a powerful warrior, but he was making me a killer, encouraging my bloodlust because he had his own. He played cruel games with me too—used my naivety to his advantage when it suited him. Do I owe him for making me the Ashbringer? Yes. I wouldn’t be what I am now without the way he shaped me. Would I wish it upon some other young warrior? Certainly not.”

“I’m sorry you went through that,” she says. “No one should go through their youth all alone like that.”

“Would’ve been better to stick by Mak’s side. But like I said, I had my mind set on rescuing my brother by any means possible.”

“Did you ever see him again?”

“My captain kept his word. He got me to Kar’Kal against all odds. And when I found my brother, he didn’t want to go with me at all.” I laugh. It’s so ridiculous, but Kaye’s lip is wobbling.

“Oh, Kalla,” she sighs, pressing herself against my chest.

“We had the kind of argument you can’t take back. I’m sure you can imagine. I told him he was a brainwashed idiot. He told me I was nothing more than a criminal playing hero. He wanted to join the war, had no interest in coming home. Sometimes I wish I had simply knocked him on his ass, tied him up, and dropped him back onThe Rightful Heirwithout giving him a rutting choice in the matter. He was Raffa’s age, and they already had him trained to die for his planet. Told him lots of lies that made everything I told him sound like lies. And then, naturally, because I’d already become an angry, reckless fool, I told him he was dead to me. Just like that. I said, ‘My brother is dead.’ And I left him there.”

Her silence says it all. Because what can one say about it? But she strokes my chest to provide some comfort.

“I’m glad Raffa has you and a sister that shows him how much she cares, no matter what he says to her,” I say, glancing at the little house they might be calling home for now. “I don’t want the future of Kar’Kal to be a repeat of the past. All this suffering wears on young ones. It makes rutting males like me with nowhere to put their anger but violence.”

“You can’t keep blaming yourself for losing him,” she says. “Will you please forgive yourself?”

“I could see it all happening again when you and I stood on the gangplank that day,” I confess. “As our interaction turned to an argument, I panicked. How could I let you walk away, when leaving my brother to his own devices is my greatest regret?”

“It’s not who you are to force me to love you, and it wasn’t who you were to force him to be your family again.” She fists my shirt, her expression fierce. “You don’t know how he would’ve reacted if you’d stolen him like you stole me, Kalla. You did what you thought was right.”

“No, I acted on my feelings. In haste. I let my anger guide me and it cost me what was left of my brother.”

“If you can hold grudges on my behalf, then I can forgive on your behalf,” she tells me. “And I forgive you. I forgive you on your own behalf. You big, hulking idiot.”

I chuckle, threading my fingers through her hair.

“I’ll try,” I promise. “I’ll try to let it go.”

“You’ve lost so much,” she says sadly. “I wish I could do something. Something more than saying sorry to take that pain away.”

“You already have,” I tell her. “You gave me so much grace even though I let that pain drive me to take control of your life. You could’ve turned me away as a mate forever, and I would’ve deserved it. For too long, I’ve used that hurt as an excuse to continue tearing pieces of myself apart. I almost destroyed our matebond in the process.”

I look out at the dark meadow. The midnight blue tufts of wild brush are touched by the gentle light. The distant planet this moon is bound to looms brightly in a near black sky. Even simple moons like this can be beautiful when I picture my mate gazing up and thinking of me. Why not put these terraformed wilds to use?

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