Page 43 of Invasive Species (Outcasts of Oloria #2)

I sample it but, despite it being a solar system away from Milapaste, it tastes like ash to me. I shovel it down with mechanical speed.

“This is really tasty,” she coos, taking another bite, and my stomach relaxes slightly. “What is it?”

“I don't know exactly what this dish is called, but this is ricax, a plant that a Gerverstock clone found on a distant planet in the Rica solar system.” I hold a ladle of the fluffy grains toward her.

“Wow. So this meal really is out of this world.” She winks at me and eats off my spoon. “Must be nice to eat delicacies from all across the galaxy.”

“Clones don't eat food like this. They have milapaste. Only… only True Born sons have food.” My scales harden as if bracing for a physical attack, and I try to quiet my inner turmoil so she won't feel it. She must not sense the internal devastation her innocent comment sparked off inside me.

I fail.

She drops her spoon with a soft clink on her plate. “Gara? What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” I force the words out. Even I don’t believe them, but I can’t burden her while she’s fighting for her life.

Her cool hand covers mine, and my fists begin to relax. Her touch soothes something inside me.

“It’s not nothing. I can feel it… like a hot wire writhing in my chest.”

She presses her hand to her heart, and the sight of it breaks something inside me. I’m causing her pain. My mate. My life. And I can’t stop it.

I crumble, falling to my knees beside the bed, my voice raw with desperation. “I’m so sorry, Arra-bellah. If I could break this connection, this mating bond, I?—”

Her sharp gaze silences me. She sucks in a breath, holding it like she’s wrestling down her own rage.

“Don’t you dare break it because of me. I want you, Gara, all of you.

Inside me, in every possible way. If you want to leave, then fine, but don’t you dare think for one second I regret meeting you. Not one second.”

I press my forehead to her knuckles, wishing I could kiss them. “We may have to. Despite all evidence to the contrary, it seems the bond is real, and it's hurting you. I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know how to fix you.”

A chuckle escapes her lips. “Everyone in my life seems to think I need fixing. I'd argue, but… well, this is a bit different.” She winks, perhaps trying an Earth joke. But I can feel it too, the bond between us like a flickering wire, hot and unstable, burning under the surface of my skin.

I can sense it now—she’s hurting too, carrying something dark from her past, something I can’t see. I squeeze her hands tighter as if, by holding her, I could protect her from everything that’s ever tried to dim her light.

“Maybe we can fix each other,” she whispers. She sways slightly, wobbling against me, but the defiant light never leaves her eyes. “Now, what about all this galaxy food made you so uneasy?”

I hesitate, pulling her closer like she’s my lifeline on an unknown space-walk. I've never spoken about this to anyone before, and I'm not sure where to start, but with her, I feel like maybe I can.

I take a deep breath and scoop up another spoonful of the ricax.

“Tubers don’t eat foods like this. We eat Mila-paste, bland sustenance.

We’re separated into dorms, organized by stock and age, our whole lives dictated by structure.

Ezla, Ilia, Dom, all of them grew up like that, trained from birth for their roles, raised by other clones.

“But me… I was different. I grew up outside, in the family compounds. In an apartment overlooking the sea, about thirty clicks north of here. I was raised by a female I thought was my mo ther—she was my mother, as far as I was concerned—but… she never told me the truth.”

A shudder runs through me, memories pulsing like old wounds torn open.

“I was an experiment. A Selthiastock clone raised as a True Born son. They wanted to see if nurture could change nature, to see if I’d still be what they bred me to be.

My mother taught me everything—navigation, astrophysics, history.

I soaked it all up like it was the air I needed to breathe. But her final lesson…”

My throat tightens, and Arra-bellah’s hands gently squeeze mine.

“She left me outside the Milagrove, at the foot of the great tree, once the experiment was over. I didn’t understand what was happening—one day she was my mother, the next I was standing among thousands of other boys like me, all clones. I was nothing special after all.”

My voice cracks, but I can’t stop now. “Later, I learned from scientific journals that the experiment concluded that clones like me could learn just as well from clones as they could from females. So, the program ended. I was lucky to survive. My determination to leave, to graduate and get out into the world and find my mother… the female who pretended to be my mother, at least, caught Ilia’s attention.

He picked me as his medic, hoping my zeal would be useful to his crew. ”

I can feel Arra-bellah’s gaze on me, her presence steady, tethering me to the present.

It helps me give voice to the unspeakable.

“Arra-bellah, I fear that my loyalty to Ilia might’ve backfired. The Prif oversaw our trial, such as it was. She likely looked at my record, saw I was different, and decided to do away with me. I’m probably the reason the bots were rigged to kill us. I’m the reason we crashed onto your planet.”

Her brow furrows in thought as her mind leaps faster than anyone I’ve ever seen to put pieces of information together.

“That’s heartbreaking, Gara, but I don’t think you’re right about the last part.

If they wanted to end the experiment, surely they would have done it when they dropped you off, not years later. ”

Her words stir something inside me. “You’re right. But then we were exiled…”

“For what, exactly?”

I take a breath, the weight of the truth pressing down on me.

“We failed to retrieve the healing plant we needed for a female. She died, and the Prif ordered our execution. Only the All-Mother intervened, and our sentence was commuted to exile. But that didn’t stop them from trying again.

I’ve always thought that the Prif would take any chance to erase those involved in the experiment. ”

Arra-bellah holds me tighter, her arms wrapped around mine like she’s trying to pull me back from the brink. “I’m sorry, Gara,” she whispers. “It sounds horrific. From what I’ve heard from you, maybe that is true.”

I bow my head. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For listening. I’ve never been able to say these things, not even to my crew. They would have every right to be furious if they found out. But right now, all I care about is you.”

The thought of her suffering because of me claws at my chest. I'm not even a good Selthiastock clone, I’m no closer to healing her. It would have been better if the bots had succeeded; at least Arra-bellah would be happier without having met me.

A chime sounds behind the bed, shattering the fragile peace. My blood turns to ice.

“Excuse us, esteemed female,” a male voice rumbles through the comms, each word a heavy thud in my ears. “We must conduct an emergency inspection for a criminal Selthiastock.”