The Lonely Orphan (The Lost Planet 5)

She lets out a heavy sigh of resignation. “Fuck The goddamn Rades.”

I understand this venom in her tone loud and clear.

“Yeah, fuck them,” I agree, knowing in this case she doesn’t mean to literally mate with a disease.

Zoe smiles briefly. “Lyric is gonna be pissed I taught her adorable alien boyfriend how to cuss. We’re in this for life now, man. You gotta back me up.”

“I have your back, female.”

“Call me female again and I’ll break your neck.”

“Affirmative, sister.”

“Not much better, but I’ll allow it.” Then, she stops in the doorway. “Sis. Goes with the whole bro thing better. Sister makes you sound Amish.”

Whatever that means.

* * *

A break.

I do not need a break.

Practically snapped Zoe’s nog off when she suggested it. Thankfully, she nearly snapped mine off right back. Told me to “go deal with upper management so you can get back to our girl.” I don’t know what “upper management” is, but I got the gist. She means Breccan and the rest.

Storming into the command center, I let out a huff as I fall into the chair. I’m alone, and I’m thankful. Rather than seeing Breccan on screen, Aria is waiting for me, her brows furrowed.

“You look like hell, Hadrian,” she says softly, her voice cracking. “How you holding up, kid?”

I used to bristle any time she’d call me kid—their human reference for a mortling—but now I can’t find it in me to get upset.

“Exhausted,” I admit. “Angry.”

Her brows lift. “Is…is my sister…”

“Unconscious,” I tell her bluntly. “Though when they pass the fever stage, they wake again.” I close my eyes. “They’re clearheaded enough to speak too, but they’re distracted. Singularly focused.”

She swallows as tears well in her eyes. “On what?”

“Ripping their skin off.”

“Jesus, Hadrian,” she bites at me. “Way to soften the blow.”

Sarcasm. Zoe is fluent. At least that’s what she tells me.

I shrug. “We don’t have time or the energy for pleasantries.” Now that’s a direct quote from Zoe. Aria picks up on it too. Her lips press into a firm line.

“You’ve changed,” she mutters.

I scowl. Of course I changed. I was given the most beautiful woman in the entire solar system only to lavish her with a few short kisses before The Rades took her. I’m not just changed, I’m spitting like one of the angry red mountains near Lake Acido. Molten, hot, uncontrollable.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

Lifting my eyes, I meet hers on the screen. “For what?”

“For never choosing you. It was always him for me.”

My blood grows cold. Not because she’s breaking me with her words, but because they don’t feel right anymore. At one time, yes. When I flew out here with Theron, I’d been obsessed with the idea of her and me together, but torn by what that would do to Breccan. I was in constant turmoil. Now, I have direction and purpose. I know exactly what I want and I’ll do nothing to stop it.

“You were always his,” I agree. “I never truly wanted to take you from him.”

Her smile is sweet. It evokes friendly memories of us laughing and sharing stories. Friends. Best friends. “Not that he would have let you,” she says with a chuckle.

“Your claws may be useless things,” I taunt, “but you’d fight if anyone ever tried to take you from your mate. Even your best friend.” That fiery flame runs in the family because her eyes flicker with intensity for her mate.

“I would,” she agrees. Then she lets out a heavy sigh. “This ‘talk’ was a long time coming, huh?”

“Seems unimportant now, all things considered.”

“You’re important, Hadrian,” she says in a firm tone. “The sky could be falling and your feelings would still matter to me.”

Warmth blooms inside me. Not heat. This warmth is the same one that blooms when Breccan playfully swats at me or gives me one of his fatherly talks. As Molly always says, “They say you can’t choose your family, but they’ve never been to Mortuus.” Aria is my family. I see that now. And her family is my…

“I kissed Lyric,” I blurt out.

Her eyes widen and she gapes at me. For a moment, I wonder if she’ll come through the screen and try to claw my eyeballs out. Not that I wouldn’t mind one of her hugs that I’d no doubt steal if she were here.

“Lyric. My Lyric?”

She’s mine now. I bite my forked tongue. Too soon.

Aria misses nothing, though, because she laughs. Wait? Laughs? “My little baby boy is growing up.”

“Sokko has grown?”

“No, dork, you.”

“I’m not little,” I argue.

“Figure of speech.”

I lift a brow, waiting for her to continue.

“Oh my God, you look just like Breccan when you do that. Quit or I’m going to whap you next time I see you.”

Not if I see you, but the next time I do.

“Admit I’m big,” I challenge.

“I’m not admitting that,” she says, shaking her nog. “Listen…”