Page 4

Ourcurrent reality.

I know nothing about him, other than that he's one of us—the third Chosen omega. That part was obvious from the moment I laid eyes on him, two days ago. The clothes are a dead giveaway—nobody else around here wears cargo pants and Nikes. He's a man of few words, and I get it. Anyone would question their sanity waking up in a place like this. He's been in Circeana as long as I have, but it's clear that he hasn't dealt with his new reality quite the same as me. I think he still doesn't quite trust that I'm really from Earth, or that I'm real at all. I've seen this kind of thing before in people I served with. The first time you find yourself in a combat situation and realize that it's nothing like how you imagined, and that you're not nearly as brave as you fantasized. It's like your brain just shuts down a little. Goes from zeroes and ones to just zeroes.

A blinding shaft of sunlight wipes across the wooden stairs leading up to the trap door out of this place, and the werewolf in charge of guarding our door clomps down them with a clay cooking pot of gruel hanging from his furry fist.

"Food," the wolf grunts, and he pours the slop into bowls and slides them across the floor to us, spilling half their contents, then tosses two pieces of hard bread that clonk along the wood like stones.

My cell mate squeezes his eyes shut and sits very still, like a kid trying to will away an imaginary monster. I crawl out to the limit of my chain and grab the bowls. It's the first food we've had in a day. As the guard heads back up the stairs, I crane my neck to try and get a better view through the trap door. I make some mental notes about our captor—his stature, his weaponry, his capability. Some people look tough but aren't; others aremore subtle. This guy looks like no slouch. He knows how to use the sword hanging at his waist. How many more like him are there on board this ship? The one who captured me was a cat shapeshifter carrying a bow and arrows. I haven't seen her since I was brought onboard.

The trap door slams shut. It takes a minute for my eyes to readjust to the amount of light shining through the gaps and knots in the wooden hull.

"Here," I say, sliding the bowl over to my cell mate.

He looks at it distrustfully. I can't blame him, but I know that our captors are going to want to keep us healthy until they've gotten what they need from us.

Which is... what, exactly?

As far as my knowledge of their MO is concerned, it's to get us to their leader, Umbrios. A certifiable deity, according to Tyler and the others. This dark god needs us to complete his takeover of this world, apparently. But it's the nitty-gritty details that I'm lacking.

What are they planning to do with our babies?

I examine the stale bread and flick a wriggling weevil larva off the crust. Then I dip the bread into the gruel and take a big bite.

"Honestly, you'd think they would give us better food. We're precious cargo." I flash a wry smile. "Yeah, that's a goddamn baby in your stomach."

"And... you are too?" he asks in a soft voice, hesitating. "Pregnant?"

I'm startled to hear him speak, but I maintain my composure. I lift the front of my cloak.

"Sure am," I say. "As much as I want it to not be the case, this ain't no dream I can force myself awake from. Don't worry. It's not gonna bust out of you,Alienstyle."

His smile carries a tinge of relief, like it was something he had been concerned about. Then he picks up the bowl and slowly dips the bread into the gruel and takes a bite. It's not long before both of us are scarfing that shit down.

"Always eat, and always eat fast," I say. "You never know where or when your next meal might be in front of you. And we're going to need to stay fueled if we're gonna bust out of here."

"How?" he asks hesitantly.

"Still working on that. But don't worry. Let's just say this isn't my first rodeo. You ready to tell me your name?"

He nods. "It's Dustin. Dustin Levine."

"Jackson Bird." I raise my hand in front of my face to show the shackle. "Before we can do any escaping, breaking these is priority number one."

2

AIROS

“Airos.Airos!”

My eyes snap open. Kalistratos is standing next to me, tapping my ankle with his sandal. The night sky is lightening with the coming morning, our camp fire has burned down to cinders, and on the other side of it, Tyler is packing up his blanket.

"You were dreaming," Kalistratos says. "Moaning in your sleep."

I sit up on one elbow and smirk at him. "Would you like to know what you were doing to me in my dream?"

With an irritable snort, he rolls his eyes and returns to Tyler's side. It'ssovery entertaining to get under that man's skin.

The visions from my dream are pressed to the forefront of my thoughts, screaming for my attention. They're more vivid this morning than usual, more difficult to extinguish—a mountain ofmuddy earth at my feet where a village once stood, the drum of rain all around me as the flow of soil and rock slowly comes to a creeping stop. Then a thin wail rising from somewhere, the terrible sound of a child's lone and desperate cry.