My promise matters. Zandia matters. I have to do what’s right.
She’ll be fine with Arc and Bow.
But as I walk out the master door and out into the sun, thinking about her with other males, I roar into the air, causing a few passersby to look, curious. Then I race away, fast, running as hard and strong as I can, until my scarred lungs burn with pain.
I embrace the pain. I deserve it after the way I just toyed with Kianna’s delicate human emotions. After I just used her with no intention of keeping her.
She’s been waiting for me.
I haven’t acknowledged what I’ve known until this moment, but I see it now. She hasn’t moved forward with her other suitors because she was holding out for me. And now I just crushed any hope she might have. Told her in no uncertain terms why I won’t—can’t—take her as my bride.
I did the right thing, though. Leading her on is a cruelty.
I’m waiting for a Zandian. I have to. And when we find the rest of our scattered species out in the galaxy, and I know we will—I’ll be ready to take on the challenge of siring strong, perfect warriors. Like my father and grandfather, and those before them. I come from one of the strongest warrior lines on Zandia.
If I weren’t injured long ago, I’d be out there like Lanz and Domm, rescuing others. Instead, I’m vecking stuck here designing the tech that powers them. And I don’t mind. It’s doing my part for our future.
But I want to own the future in a visceral way, too. Bring new life to our planet. Send forth a child to do what I can’t any longer. But what’s needed for Zandia’s future.
Why, then, does the image of Kianna’s belly swollen with child keep flickering in my mind?
And the thought of touching another female—even a Zandian—depress me?
Chapter 4
Kianna
* * *
“What happened? Anything to tell me?” Mirelle prances through my door. If she weren’t a fighter pilot, I think she could be a dancer. Once again, I’m struck with jealousy at how easily she won the hearts of her mates.
I look away, out the window of my home. “We, yes. We kissed. Then we…” How to describe it? “Were intimate.” My face is hot, and I can’t help but smile, even if my heart breaks at what came after.
“Oh, Kianna.” She claps her hands and grins. “That’s such great news! Did they give you their crystals?” She comes up to me, face eager. “Show me.”
“Crystals? No.” I scoff. “In fact, he left—oh. You’re talking about Arc and Bow.” I tighten my hair tie and sit down. Put my face into my hands.
“Who are you talking about?” Her voice goes up. “Did you…” She hesitates, her voice soft. “Mykl?”
I nod.
“Oh, Mother Earth.” She comes up and sits beside me, wraps her arms around me. “Oh, Kianna.”
I shake my head. “He said he’s waiting for a pure-blooded Zandian female to carry on his super special warrior genes. A solemn promise to his dying father.”
She squeezes my hand. “I see.”
“Yeah.” I wipe my eyes. “He’s attracted to me, but I’m inferior.” I shrug. “Not good enough for his precious DNA. It is what it is.” I stand up and pace. “He told me to leave him alone. He’ll never want any human.”
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“I’m sorry.” Mirelle is somber. She knows as well as I do how the Zandians believe in their word.
“There’s nothing I can do, I guess.” A tiny inkling of an idea starts to grow in the back of my brain, though. Just a flicker. A crazy, insane little plan.
I look out the window. “I mean, unless I suddenly turn into some fierce warrior princess and go off and do some kind of amazing feat, the thing people write about in history books. Then maybe, just maybe, he’d accept me as an inferior but acceptable substitute.”
Mirelle gives me a look of such sympathy that I almost die. “Kee. You deserve someone who doesn’t just tolerate you, but thinks you’re the most amazing being on this planet.”