The Lonely Orphan (The Lost Planet 5)

I digress…

The point of this letter is to let you know that I love you like the brother I never had. You’re the best uncle to Sokko, and you’re the best son to Breccan. What you’re doing for me and Molly by going to Exilium to look for my sister and Willow is beyond brave and admirable. You’re a good man, Hadrian. One day you’re going to make the right woman very happy.

I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday.

Name one of the stars in the sky for me.

Love,

Aria

I fold the letter and run my thumb claw over the top. She wrote a letter just for me. My heart races a little at that notion. But it’s once again clear she has no interest in me, comparing me to her family, not her mate.

My gaze travels to the brightest star above us. I silently name it Aria. The one next to it barely flickers. I name that one Hadrian.

“Warning,” a voice belts out from the comms. “You have breached protected air space.”

I sit up and jerk my nog toward the screen. Theron scrambles to mash buttons. A person wearing some sort of black mask fills the screen. It’s most definitely female, but muffled.

“Show your faces,” she orders.

Hadrian and I exchange a look before leaning in to take a closer look.

“More of the monsters,” she hisses to someone. Then, she practically growls at us. “Turn your vessel around if you want to live.”

“Listen, female,” Theron starts.

“No,” she snaps. “You listen, asshole. You’re to turn your ship around right now or I’ll have my friend blow you out of the sky.”

“We come in peace,” I try. “On a mission from my commander and his mate. We’re looking for her sister. Perhaps you could help us.”

Someone whispers to her nearby, but she waves the person off.

“Sister?” she asks, her brave tone wavering.

“Her name is Aria and—”

“Lyr, no!” the person off screen cries out.

The woman pulls off her mask and I’m struck dumb. The one staring at me is her. Aria. The one I love. My heart slams against my chest, aching to jump right through the screen to get to her.

“Aria?”

Theron whaps me. “No, you empty-nogged mortarekker! It’s Limerick! Her sister!”

“You know my sister?” she demands, her eyes flaring with anger and distrust.

Her lips. So full. So familiar.

“Like my friend here said, we have Aria at our facility and—”

“I want to talk to her. Now.”

“Listen, Limerick. I know all about you—”

“It’s Lyric and you don’t know shit about me.”

Oh, but I do. I know exactly how she got that nickname too. Rather than continue to waste everyone’s time, I flash her a smug smirk. One that says, “Yeah, I know because I’m your sister’s best friend.”

“You will release her to me,” she commands, her voice authoritative like Breccan’s.

“We’re not releasing her anywhere, Lyric,” I growl. “She’s ours.”

Theron shoots me a hard look, which I ignore.

“Yours?” Lyric’s nostrils flare and her lip curls up.

Mine.

“Yes, ours,” I challenge. “And we’re going to make you ours too.”

Fury morphs her face into one of rage, but then she wipes it away with a sinister smile. “Well, since you asked so sweetly. Just the two of you handsome fellas on that ship?”

“Just us,” I tell her.

Theron shakes his head and runs his fingers through his hair. “Unbelievable.”

“You’re cleared to land,” she says, her voice deceptively calm.

“They’re going to kidnap you,” someone whispers to her.

Lyric leans away from the view of the camera and whispers back, “They can fucking try.”

Kidnap isn’t a word we morts knew of, that is until the aliens started throwing it around. It means to take to the facility and keep them as ours. We’re definitely kidnapping Lyric and Willow. They should be pleased to be kidnapped and brought back to their families.

“Yes, kidnap,” I confirm. “We’ll be kidnapping you and Willow both. The others are none of our concern.”

Someone shrieks near Lyric and she comes back on screen, her eyes flashing in a challenging way. “Is that so, monster man?”

I flash her my rogstud horns with my fingers, a gesture meant to make those around me calm and sometimes laugh. “We’re on our way, alien.”

“Alien?” she scoffs, narrowing her eyes at the movement.

“Do you see any other aliens around?”

Her nostrils flare, but then she takes a deep breath and calms. It appears I do have Breccan’s flare for diplomacy after all. She smiles in a way that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “The whole alien gang will be here ready to give you a warm welcome. Bye, boys.”

The line goes dead.

“I got a bad feeling about this,” Theron mutters, shooting me an annoyed glare.

I tuck away my letter, ignoring his hunch. “Let’s go kidnap some females.”

So I can get back to mine. Aria. The mate I’ll never stop longing for.

This mission no longer feels like a punishment. It will be a reward the moment I retrieve the females and bring them back to Aria. She’ll hug me and I’ll nuzzle her hair, inhaling her unique scent. It’ll be the most wonderful gift a mort could receive.