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Titan

Sprawled flat on his back on the floor of his designated unconsciousness quarters within his brother’s government-given estate, Titan stared at the ceiling and contemplated the impossible: could it be that there was something wrong with him?

He was a great being—perhaps the greatest Darvrokian to have been born during any modern cycle—and had cemented his reputation as such by adhering to his father’s strict demands the entirety of his life, but could it be that there was more to greatness than he had been led to believe?

It was a laughable thought… or at least it had been before he had met Ambassador Ezra Miller.

It had been over a week since he and Ezra had last engaged in fucking, yet Ezra was no more generous with his affections than he had been before the fucking had taken place.

This was quite unusual. He had assumed that all it would take to thaw Ezra’s frigid opinion of him would be a few hot hours spent together between the sheets, but it seemed this was not the case, as even now Ezra would not stop saying foolish things such as, “You’re like if spam emails were a person,” and “You have the personality of wet cardboard, if that wet cardboard also tho ught way too highly of itself.” Titan did not know what spam emails or wet cardboard were, but he could infer from the tone with which Ezra spoke that they were not desirable things to be.

Worse, Ezra’s disdain for him only seemed to grow with each passing day, and Titan could not fathom why.

When they were together, Ezra either spoke very sparingly or with malice, and when they were apart, Ezra did whatever he could to keep it that way.

It seemed that he was avoiding Titan as much as possible and spending time with him only when their shared government position necessitated it, which made no sense, as by now he’d had plenty of opportunity to observe the numerous ways in which Titan was great and therefore deserving of his company.

It was perplexing, to say the least, but it was not the only troubling mystery to arise from this unusual series of events.

What struck Titan just as heavily was the fact that he cared.

He did not want Ezra to dislike him. In fact, he wished to gain Ezra’s favor very much indeed.

There was something between them, something powerful enough to change Ezra’s body, perhaps even something predetermined by fate, but with Ezra so distant and frigid, he would never be able to figure out what it was, and it was all because of whatever Ezra found wrong about him.

Grinding out a groan between his teeth, Titan covered his face with his hands and rolled onto his side, curling up pitifully, as though he were still in his egg.

It would be to his benefit to discuss his feelings of inadequacy with someone, but who?

For the briefest increment he entertained the notion of going to Al—they were brothers, after all, and he was the only one Titan knew who had found his True Mate—but then he thought of the day before, when he had attempted to dine with Al, Jude, and their offspring, and had been met with nothing but cool stares and blunt, one-syllable answers during his attempts at conversation.

It had quickly become clear that Al would never consider the possibility of a “heart-to-heart” with him.

That fact had never bothered him before—he had always chalked it up to jealousy —but today, in his vulnerable state, he found himself wishing that Al was not so blatantly unhappy in his presence.

It unsettled him to suddenly care about this, so he pushed the feeling down deep inside, deciding to address it at a later date… or perhaps never at all.

With the option of confiding in Al no longer valid, he next considered Kyle.

He often acted as a confidant for Al and Ezra, and was therefore qualified to act as one for Titan as well.

It would be simple to order Kyle to act in a friendly manner toward him and offer advice as it pertained to Titan’s unique situation, but something about that did not sit well with him, either.

The thought of it made his stomach twist uncomfortably, so Titan dismissed the notion.

Who else, then, could he confide in?

He had many friends. Many great, wonderful, impressive friends.

Friends he had made in the government, with whom he could never share such deprecating thoughts lest he be seen as lesser, and friends who had become his friend simply so they would be associated with a great and impressive being.

Titan frowned.

His hands dropped from his face.

Was there really no one he could talk to?

Was he really so alone?

The realization pierced his heart as deeply as a Sand Dweller’s stinger.

How could it be that he had so many friends, yet no one he could trust with this dark, secret truth?

He would have to rectify this, of course.

He would make genuine friends. It would not be difficult, as he was an exemplary being that anyone would be lucky to have as a close companion, but…

He feared he did not know where to begin.

Titan spent some time on the floor in thought, sifting through every being he could think of, human or otherwise, who might be able to help.

The name he finally landed on was Kr’??’txx, who was one of Titan’s eldest brothers.

From what Titan knew of him, Kr’??’txx was an impressive and respectable being who did not care for gossip or rumors, and who would surely keep Titan’s worries to himself.

They were not close as there was a considerable age gap between their clutches—Kr’??’txx and his clutchmates had been long out of the nest and living independent lives of their own by the time Titan and his clutchmates had hatched—but Kr’??’txx had always been kind to Titan, although somewhat reserved.

His name reflected this. In English, he would be called…

what was the best translation? Mercy. Yes, that was the closest approximation.

Perhaps Kr’??’txx—“Mercy”—would not end up being Titan’s friend per se, but he would at least be able to listen and offer advice. There was a chance he would even be able to offer clarity about whether or not Ezra could be his True Mate.

With renewed energy, Titan pushed himself off the floor and padded over to the closet where he had stored the few belongings he had been allowed to bring with him from Darvrok 6.

The Earth governments were wary of “alien technology,” as they called it, and thus heavily monitored what was brought through intergalactic customs. He had not been able to keep his eviscerator, which was unfortunate because it was a very convenient device for eliminating waste products—much more efficient and better for the environment than garbage dumps—but for some reason, the government officials had said that a device that could erase matter from existence at the press of a button was a safety concern.

It was a terrible inconvenience, but not all was lost, as they had graciously allowed him to keep his communication device.

Titan retrieved it from one of his bags and brought it to his bed, where he sat cross-legged with his back pressed to the headboard.

He remained like that for an increment, gazing down at the device as he collected his nerves, then breathed out slowly through his nose and dropped his human disguise.

As soon as he did, the device recognized his face and unlocked, allowing him to open up his contact list and select Mercy’s coordinates.

The call did not connect instantly—there were light-years of distance to be bridged before instant communication could ensue—but after some time, a holographic image popped up from the screen.

To Titan’s surprise, it did not depict Mercy, but rather his cousin: a slightly awkward being with corrective lenses.

Most Darvrokians born with poor eyesight used special drops to fix this dysfunction, but this cousin had an allergy to the medication.

In fact, he was allergic to several things, each more inconvenient than the last. Unfortunately, such was his lot in life, as his markings—single rings capping each shoulder, with smaller rings upon the apples of his cheeks—foretold he would live a luckless existence.

Coincidentally, “Luckless” was the closest English approximation of his name.

“?.Λ.yz’Ο?” Luckless asked, eyes sharpened with curiosity. “It’s unlike you to call. Is something wrong? Is everyone okay?”

Titan did not bother to point out that their family was so large that it would be nearly impossible to know if all of them were in good health.

Statistically, at least one of them could be poorly and Titan would be none the wiser, but he decided to let it go.

It would be a conversation for another time.

“As far as I know, everyone is fine,” he said in Darvrokian, easily falling back into his mother tongue. “I was actually calling to speak to Kr’??’txx. Is he around?”

“Oh, yeah, he’s right here.” Luckless adjusted the angle of the communication device and up popped a hologram of Mercy, who appeared to be seated beside him. It seemed Titan had caught them in a time of relaxation—perhaps midway through viewing the newest episode of Planet Hoppers .

Titan felt a brief pang of homesickness. He sometimes forgot that he was very, very far from everything and everyone he knew.

“? .Λ.yz’Ο,” Mercy said in his deep, rumbly voice.

Where Luckless spoke with quiet emotion, Mercy always sounded flat, even when he was being sincere.

He was a burly, muscular being—handsome, but intimidating.

Titan had always found him to be a little unnerving, especially as a child. “Is something the matter?”

“No,” Titan said, then reconsidered. “Well, yes, sort of. I was wondering…” He twisted his mouth and rubbed the nape of his neck.

He was not used to asking for assistance with, well, anything, if he was being honest, and he felt oddly exposed.

Perhaps even mortified. He had been so sure he would feel comfortable sharing his insecurities with Mercy, but now, staring him down, the truth simply would not come out.

He could not admit he was worried that there was something wrong with him, but he could not end the transmission without positing a question lest he arouse suspicion.

He had to say something.

And since he could not bring himself to speak his doubts aloud, he shifted his focus onto the secondary purpose of their conversation. “I want to know what you know about True Mates.”

“True Mates?” Mercy furrowed his brow. “Aren’t you on Earth? AA.??’p’Zx would be the one to ask. He’s the only one I know who actually found his.”

“No, I know that.” Titan’s cheeks warmed.

He did not want to admit to his older brother that his relationship with his clutchmate was so poor that he could not ask him a simple question without getting coldness in response.

“I just… I wanted to know more details about how it works, and you’re the smartest one I know. ”

“Low blow, ?.Λ.yz’Ο,” Luckless said through a laugh.

Like Mercy, Luckless was an academic, but whereas Mercy had graduated many rotations ago and gone on to devote his life to his chosen field of study, becoming quite renowned for the depths of his expertise, Luckless was an eternal student, graduating from one program only to begin the next.

Both were intelligent beings, but they applied their intelligence in different ways, and Mercy’s brand of disciplined intelligence was more closely in line with what Titan needed.

He quickly muttered an apology, which Luckless laughed away.

“I may be smart,” Mercy said, continuing the conversation, “but the study of True Mates is a bit outside my purview. What is it you want to know?”

“I was curious if… if it’s possible for True Mates not to always recognize each other at first touch, like all the literature says they do. Could it be possible to find your True Mate and not realize it until later on?”

“Not as far as I know,” Mercy said, and Titan’s heart sank. “The bond between True Mates is always detectable upon first touch. There has never been a case in which the bond formed later on.”

Titan frowned. “Right, but… let’s say, for example, a non-Darvrokian’s anatomy begins to adapt to better suit its Darvrokian lover. Wouldn’t that be a marker of a True Mate bond?”

“Sure.”

“Can you think of any other reason why a non-Darvrokian’s body might change like that?”

Mercy tilted his head in thought, taking a long increment to ponder the question.

“No,” he said finally. “I can’t think of any reason why that would happen.”

Titan bit back a huff of frustration. This was not helping at all.

“Why are you asking me these things, ?.Λ.yz’Ο?” Mercy went on to say. He grinned. “Are you looking for a True Mate of your own?”

“My questions are purely academic,” Titan shot back, lying through his teeth.

“Well, regardless of why you’re asking, those are my answers.”

Luckless no dded. “Everything I’ve read during my studies says pretty much the same thing.”

“Okay,” Titan said in a small voice. He fell silent, lost in his own thoughts, and was startled when Luckless spoke again.

“You know,” he said gently, “it’s possible not to be True Mates with someone and still be deeply tied to them. Being a True Mate is not the only way to be in love.”

“Right,” Titan mumbled, suddenly feeling sick. “Anyway, thank you. That’s… that’s all I wanted to know. I’ll let you get back to whatever it was you were doing. Sorry to bother you.”

“It’s no bother,” said Mercy.

“We’re happy to help,” affirmed Luckless.

Titan nodded noncommittally and gave a pathetic little wave before concluding the transmission.

He then sat there, staring into the middle distance as he thought about what he had not been able to voice out loud: there might be other ways to love, but what were you supposed to do if the person you loved did not love you back?