Page 42

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

~Arcay~

THE REMAINING HUMANS awoke one by one, all of them terrified and confused. I did my best to communicate to them that they were not in danger and would come to no harm, but I was not sure what had been done to them, and what to say to make them feel better.

All I wanted to do was find Clay and make him speak to me. I had not seen him since he left our rooms. But I was needed here. I owed it to the humans to try to help. Because Clay was right, it was my fault they were here.

However, my efforts were not paying off. The fear in their faces whenever I tried to speak to them was all-consuming, and I knew they did not take my words in. They did not trust me, and for that I could not blame them. The things found in the room—various medical devices, monitoring equipment, and several pump syringes with the residue of some thick serum inside—had been taken away to be analyzed, but so far had not offered any clues of what they had been used for.

After some time, I gave up and sought out Jursin. He had been as shocked as me to learn that the humans were still on board, but for a different reason; it meant that someone had disobeyed his commands.

“Arcay, have you found out who did this?” Jursin growled.

“No, Arani , but I will,” I assured him. “We have the alpha who was involved in guarding the room, Tarro, contained in a holding cell. But he will not talk to me, and I do not know who else is involved, or how many.”

Jursin was surprised. “Tarro? Why would he disobey?”

Tarro was loyal to a fault; not the brightest alpha, but he was honest and more kind-hearted than most. I had to agree that I would not have expected this from him. Whoever had given him the command to guard the humans must have been a high alpha.

I shook my head; the implications of that were troubling. “I can only guess that he had little choice.”

Jursin frowned. “Once you have the information from him, bring it to me. I will ensure the perpetrator is sufficiently punished.”

Jursin was angrier than I had seen him in some time. I knew it was an outrage that someone had directly disobeyed both of us, and in any other circumstances I was sure I would be just as angry, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. The argument with Clay consumed me entirely, as well as the anger I felt through our bond.

I made my way to the holding cell. Tarro sat inside, his shoulders hunched. His usually gentle face was deformed with what looked like discomfort, and he seemed to be in a considerable amount of pain, but I could see no injury on him. Perhaps I had used too much force in my hurry to get him away from Clay.

He looked up when he saw me and held my gaze for a moment, before looking down again. Not cowed, but unhappy. Guilty.

“Who instructed you to guard the humans?” I said.

Tarro shook his head and refused to respond.

“If you do not answer me there will be grave consequences for you. You need not be punished if you were just following the orders of a high alpha. I can grant that you may not have been aware of exactly what you were involved in, but you must tell me now whose orders you were following.”

Tarro shuddered as discomfort twisted his face and his body stiffened. What was happening to him?

“Tarro? What is wrong with you? Are you in pain?”

He shook his head again, forlornly, “I cannot tell you, Arani ,” he rasped.

I was stunned. Both at his refusal to cooperate and at the strain evident in his voice. Usually in this situation I would be angry, but instead I felt uneasy. I had known Tarro for most of my life, and this was not his usual self. Something was happening.

“Why not?” I asked.

“I wish I could say, Arani , but…” he grunted and hunched forward.

I watched him as his body trembled. There was a battle warring inside him. It seemed like my questions were hurting him in some way. Something was very wrong with him.

“I will have a healer come and look at you,” I said, softening my voice.

Something was happening here that I did not understand. I turned away from his quivering form. I needed to decipher the meaning behind all of this—the disappearances, the human’s imprisonment, Tarro’s peculiar behavior. It all added up to something that I could not comprehend.

But I could not gather my wits. My mind was conflicted with Clay’s words and the maelstrom churning through our bond like a storm battering at my consciousness. Since our argument, every dragging second that I did not speak to Clay wore on my body like a physical weight. A terrible realization was settling in, a growing horror that numbed me to my core.

I had ruined everything.

The stars had blessed me with an omega, found in the least likely of places just when I was on the verge of giving up hope. And not just an omega, but Clay. My beautiful, strange human. He was different to anyone I had ever met, and not just because he was not Aldar. It was so much more than that. This human man from the other side of the galaxy, so unlike me in so many ways and yet so perfect. Whatever creator had formed us had taken the lost pieces of my soul and placed them in his, and now that I had found him, I was whole. We were meant for each other.

The universe had handed me happiness in his blue eyes. And still I had managed to make the wrong choice at every turn. One mistake after another. And now it was clear that Clay would never be happy with me.

I had tried to avoid the truth for too long, but over the last few hours it had sunk into my bones. A heavy coldness that smothered everything else. He would never be happy and he would never accept his place here with me. I loved Clay with everything I had, he made me happy in a way I had never thought possible. But that happiness would never be true if he resented me for the rest of his life. Even if he forgave me for this, our bond could never be pure. Our relationship had started with Clay’s abduction. Against his will and without his consent. The very base our bond was built on was corrupted.

Deep, sickening shame filled me and I had to stop. Collapsing against the wall, I cradled my head in my hands.

Everything Clay had said was true. Everything was my fault. I had taken him against his will. I had lied to him. It was my fault every time he had been hurt or put in danger. I had caused all of this to happen. I had my chance and I had ruined it. The guilt ravaged me, leaving me entirely empty. And all that was left for me was to try to make it right.

But how? How could I undo all of the hurt that I had caused?

Clay’s spark slowly dimmed, his howling storm of emotions becoming vague and muted. I raised my head. He must be falling asleep. Which meant he was back in our rooms.

Now that the swirl of feelings had dimmed, I was able to think more clearly. I recalled our exhibition, when I was able to calm Clay through our bond. It had been a wonderful moment of connection, and I longed to go back in time before I knew that I had poisoned us. The memory turned sour when Ulgar accosted us, and spewed his foul threats against—

I straightened. Of course. It had been staring me in the face all this time and I had been too lost in my own emotional haze to see what was right in front of me. I knew who was behind this, and although it made me sick to my stomach, I was not surprised. How could I be so foolish? He practically told me himself. And with that knowledge, a new idea formed, unfolding in my mind like a poisonous flower. I knew how I could make everything right.

***

WHEN I ENTERED our quarters, I found Clay asleep in the main room, sprawled long across the bench.

What kind of mate had I been to him? I had taken him away from his people; forced myself on him, imprisoned him. I had brought him nothing but pain. Although his words had deeply wounded me, he was right. I was nothing more than a monster. The time had come for me to do what I should have done from the very start. I had been too blind to see then, and I had put my own selfish needs above his happiness and wellbeing.

Standing over Clay, I tried to commit every detail of him to memory. His face was angled downwards, dark hair flopping over his forehead. The lines of his face, which had been so tense the last time I saw them, were now relaxed and at ease. He wore his thickest dark shirt, open to the waist; the first one I had made for him when he had complained about being cold. The pale skin of his chest stood out in the darkness, and my fingers itched to touch him. And although he was so peaceful and perfect like this, I wished with everything in me that I could see his eyes. Just one last time.