“Tarek doesn’t want that scenario,” I say bitterly. “And neither do I,” I add.
Abbi walks over and touches my arm. “Maybe give it time before making any decisions. Tarek was shocked by the news. And understandably, he’s afraid the baby will be blind, like him. But that doesn’t mean he won’t get used to the idea and make a wonderful mate and father.”
My eyes sting because I want that scenario so badly. But my heart can’t handle being trampled again. And Tarek’s done nothing but abandon me.
I shake my head. “He had his chance. I’d rather King Zander assign me to another male or males than open myself up to heartbreak again.”
It’s a lie. I know it the moment I speak it, but Abbi nods. “I’ll get you on the roster for the next royal visitation.”
I swallow down my heartache. For my baby’s sake, it’s time to be strong.
Tarek
I’ve been numb for planet rotations. It feels like I’m underwater. Or in an atmosphere where the gravity is far stronger than Zandia’s. Every movement takes effort. Every word is difficult to form.
Thank veck. Get some space from Zina. Time to think.
Only I can’t think. I can barely function.
And the rest of the team is relying on my enhanced navigational skills to get us through the harrowing trash fields of space debris so we can plant our monitoring devices.
The noise at the back of my head—that bellowing darkness I tried to pack up and shove in there so I could work makes thought impossible.
“Are you ready to enter the trash field, Tarek?” Benn asks me. We’ve been hovering outside the dangerous no-fly zone for a planet rotation now, waiting for an opening. But an opening won’t come. The more space debris accumulates here, the more dense it has become. Which is why it’s the perfect place to drop our spy-monitors.
This way, if there is ever an attack from Ocretions on Zandia—and with diplomatic relations getting more and more difficult, that seems more and more likely—then we’ll know about it.
I draw a deep breath in through my nostrils and exhale. My king and species are relying on me. “Let’s go in,” I say.
“Are you sure?” Benn asks. “It would be better to abort than to risk getting killed or captured. This isn’t a critical mission.”
Benn and his best friend Gorde share a human mate back on Zandia and she bore them a unique child who carries both their DNA. I know he’s thinking about his mate Danica as he considers the risks.
A sharp blade of pain stabs through my own heart at that thought.
Veck.
I have my own young to consider—
No. I can’t think about that.
I just. Can’t.
“I’m sure. Put on your harness.” I snap mine securely in place and bring my attention to all the data streaming from my sensors.
I can do this. For Zandia.
“Moving in.”
Benn holds his breath as the craft darts forward, into the minefield of debris. I maneuver quickly, shifting us up, down, to the right, forward. Potential hazards come from every direction, but I dodge each one, my confidence returning as we go in.
This is what I was born for. This is the only place where my blindness isn’t a detriment, it’s an enhancement. My special skill. My superpower, of sorts.
Time slows. I dart in and out of the spaces between debris until, at last, we arrive on the other side of it. Right in Ocretion airspace where they have a gap in their own surveillance equipment.
“We’re in,” Benn reports to Master Seke, back on Zandia.
“Well done, Tarek,” our master-at-arms praises me.