Page 10 of Pet: Torment

He quietly rounds the counter, standing closer than he’s stood in a while.

“You’ve also been through a lot mentally. It’s okay to rest, Iris,” he says. His hand gently touches my cheek, rubbing it slightly as he speaks, and when I look into his eyes, the ocean of purple reflected at me is calming as it tells me just how relaxed he is.

He takes in my silence, smiling.

“Once you finish your breakfast, I’d be more than happy to give you a proper tour. Maybe even show you around outside,” Remus says.

I take another bite of my bacon, savoring the flavor before responding.

“Do you not have things to do? I thought you were the leader. Don’t you have to get back to plotting to wipe out another planet,” I say suspiciously.

On Earth, Remus and I rarely spent mornings together. He was always gone before I awoke; if he was around, he was still working. But it seems like he has no intention of going about his duties, even though he just arrived home fresh off conquering a planet.

“All my duties are on hold for the next three days. It is our custom. Anytime my siblings and I return from battle, we are given three days to rest. No one is to bother us during that time. That also gives the council time to arrange everything for when I emerge,” he says, ignoring my jab.

He doesn’t realize just how terrifying his words are. He’s admitting that they have conquered so often that they have put in place a system that allows them to rest when they return home as if it is such a common occurrence. And as the thought crossesmy mind, so do Margot and Jude— the unfortunate collateral in this situation, according to Remus.

I wonder how many people on how many different worlds have suffered the same fate thanks to Remus.

“The sun will be up in an hour. Take your time finishing,” Remus says, sensing my mood shift. He moves away from me to finish cleaning the kitchen, and I quietly go back to eating, glad for the space.

Remus

For as long as I can remember, I’ve always enjoyed seeing other planets. I appreciate the beauty that comes with different conditions of different worlds. Sometimes, I even interfere myself to allow the planet a chance to grow into what it can be. But other planets can never compare to my home.

It’s my place of solace—my peace.

And now I have the pleasure of watching Iris appreciate it as much as I do. She walks quietly ahead of me, her boots crunching in the snow as she constantly spins in a circle to take it all in. The first thing I did this morning was get her out of the house so that workers could outfit it properly for her.

At first, it was just a means of distraction. But as I watch her gasp as she stumbles across the foreign shape of our icicles, I find myself enjoying my time as well. I don’t think I could ever get tired of the excitement I see on her face. She’s wearing one of my coats to keep her warm, and though it swallows her, she seems to enjoy wearing it.

I considered bringing my servants with inhibitors back with me to care for Iris. I decided against it when I realized she wasn’t going to let what happened to her home go—not anytime soon,anyway. And since I plan on being with Iris for the rest of my life, I may as well learn to care for a human.

Unfortunately, I am off to a poor start.

Upon her arrival, I had no clothes for her and no food in my home since I do not need it to survive. I was lucky she was too exhausted to realize she was hungry, giving me time to get food at least. I must also be more mindful of all the doors I install and refrain from leaving some open. Humans are fragile. If I forget to feed her, if I leave passages open, she could die easily. I know it will take getting used to having her here. And as we pass by a bench and she moves to sit on it, oblivious of how fast her death would be in this weather, she reminds me of another warning.

“This is the edge of the courtyard. You must tell me before you come out here. You could freeze to death and not even realize it,” I say.

She scoffs, shifting her attention over the large space we covered, her eyes falling on the house above us. I can’t help but feel my warning went right over her head, as most of what I say does.

“So, you live all the way out here all by yourself?” she asks.

I nod.

“All of my siblings live very secluded because of who we are. It’s virtually impossible to access our homes without us to guide,” I say.

“From one prison to another,” she murmurs.

I can’t help but laugh, pulling her attention. She always takes the negative in my words, trying to decipher hidden meaning that isn’t there. All while ignoring what I’ve told her in the past.

“You are not a prisoner here. If you wish to go someplace, you may go. If you want to walk around outside, you can but you have to be mindful because it is deadly. The conditions on this planet are much different than Earth’s. That does not make you a prisoner,” I say, gauging her reaction as I do.

“I can only come and go at your whim,” she says, trying to find a flaw in my response. But I only shake my head, kneeling so that I am at eye level with where she is seated. I note her heartbeat speeds up as she watches me with wide eyes.

“That is only a temporary setback. Once you are settled, I will make all the necessary arrangements for you to live a free life...by my side,” I say, studying her.

Her cheeks flush even further, and I can’t tell if it’s from the cold or something I said. But she quickly stands, moving away from me and in the direction of the house. She pauses as she notices something—a pile of snow.