Page 7

We exit Allele and enter the shipping yard nestled not far from a familiar civilian market. In this area of Taitith, the most commonly transported goods are consumables: food, clothing, and personal care items. It’s unusual to encounter a conflict here.

A cargo crew from Thorian space is being attacked by another from Mindor’s solar system. From what I overhear, it’s because of a dark red alien male with bound wings who’s arrived with the Thorians.

“I’m not Talhuskin!” he angrily shouts as the port guards try to break up the fight. “Those greedy rats can suck a talon, for all I care!”

“Shit.” Blaize cuts away from us to target a civilian mob that’s gathering weapons in the market. Eluni leaves my side to help port security.

Allele, can you find any information on this species? Dock logs, anything to help?

Searching, she says.

I push on, toward the middle of the conflict and start holding them apart. “Stop! What in the void had you all at such odds on our ship?”

A Mindor motions violently to the unfamiliar species. “His kind took one of our females last week!”

“We did not!” the winged male protests. “That was a Talhuskin! We are not the same!”

A Thorian I recognize as Clan Leader Harklos steps forward, defensively holding his wooden staff in both hands.

He looks ready to fight to the death, dressed in his metal-plated leather armor.

The gleam in his striated black and blue eyes confirms my suspicions.

“The Denarso took our females and some others, including one from a Drathious vessel. Jorusk helped us get our females back. So we are working together. He is blood now.”

Thorians believe acts determine family, not DNA. If they’re blood brothers, then I know he will die for Jorusk.

“His kind stole from us!” The Mindor Pack Leader asserts. “That makes you as much our enemy as him!”

Aura, I do not have much information on Jorusk, but I can say that Mariel was returned to Planet Mindor by the Thorians just minutes ago.

“Mariel is safe on your homeworld,” I tell the Mindoran leader before motioning toward our diplomatic chamber.

“If you want to have a conversation about relations between your species, I welcome you to do so in the isolated Valence chamber of Tiatith where our Spark Arrestors make us equals. But you will not risk the lives of innocent civilians on my watch, no matter how pissed you are.”

The Mindor pack leader takes an aggressive step toward me. My Storm reacts to his advance, sending crackling arcs threading around my body like electric aquamarine spiders.

“I do not want to hurt you,” I tell him.

“You going to shock me with your pretty little static?” he jeers.

“I could kill you.” And everyone on this ship. One supernova. We are a dangerous breed. I’m surprised the Abr committee let me in.

“Don’t make a mess of this place over me,” Jorusk says. “I’ll leave. I just wanted to help the Thorians deliver their produce to you on time since they spent days looking for their females, then cared for me after the Denarso injured my wings. I was just trying to get them back on schedule.”

The Mindor leader fumes and growls at me. “I will not trust the Thorians until he is gone! He was on our planet before she went missing!”

Jorusk’s wings twitch in their leather bindings. “I was speaking with Pack Leader Norramus about the missing female. You likely found out about her after I left because she wasn’t from your pack, Luslym .”

The Mindor leader snarls at him. “You want her. Do not lie!”

“I am not interested in mating with an animal .” Jorusk squirms. “I want a human. My Inferno demands it.”

Jorusk looks like a devil, the way his chest glows like hot coals. My Storm calms when I turn to him. “Abr?”

He nods. “Next month.”

I want to tell him I’m signed up too, but I can’t, not out here in public. But there’s something about him that eases my stress. Someone else who might have my level of power is signed up.

Harklos spins his staff into a ready position. “We do not lie like you do, Luslym. It’s your trade deal with the Denarso that got us into this! They took our females to control our contracts!”

I’m starting to run out of options that will keep them all free of jail and this from becoming an intergalactic relations incident. Allele, would you accept Jorusk?

His Storm is not a familiar kind, but I sense it is honorable. He is permitted.

Before I can tell Jorusk, Mindorans charge Thorians. There aren’t enough guards. I’m knocked around until I manage to grab a Mindor and tear them off a Thorian, then block the staff of a Thorian from hitting a Mindor. When I can’t keep up, and desperation rises, my Storm takes over.

“Get back!” I roar. No one listens except Amphirans and Jorusk . But I cannot tamp down the building rage.

Why are we fighting when there are so many struggling just to survive in this war-torn universe?

Tension binds my bones and riddles my muscles with hot energy until I can’t contain it. A wave of dancing electric threads balloons out from me. The pulse in my core slows and strengthens during the electric release, then returns to normal, leaving me steaming.

Bodies fall as if I am a bomb, leveling those around me like they are Nebs, and I am the fallen ship.

Jorusk stumbles backward but doesn’t collapse like the others. He pats himself with his hands like he expects holes from my arcs. But he seems almost unharmed.

I am out of breath, my shoulders heaving with the release, but my Storm feels almost unhindered. It’s no surprise why the kings banned Storm displays based on my destruction. Guards can use them to protect. Still, my level of power, the force I’ve exuded, was barely contained.

As both sides writhe and pick themselves up, I notice civilians watching me in shock. A young child eagerly waves at me from a storefront. I force a smile and wave back, wondering how anyone could see me as anything but a monster.

The child’s mother corrals him but doesn’t turn him away like I expect. Instead, she looks happy about the mess I’ve caused: the overturned carts, the charred marks on the floor, and the puffs of smoke.

I turn to Jorusk. “If you accept, I will transport you where you need to go.” Scanning the cargo crews still dusting themselves off, I add, “If that is sufficient for the rest of you to continue like normal without incident.”

Clan Leader Harklos picks himself up, gives Jorusk an apologetic look, and then wipes the blood from his nose like it’s just another day at work.

Pack Leader Luslym snarls, runs a hand over his blue, furry neck, then turns away. “Fine. Just get him out of my sight.”

Eluni eases through the crowd as Blaize appears at my side.

“You’re still sparking, Aura,” Blaize mutters.

“I can’t stop it.” The tingling momentum won’t ease.

“Not even after that blast?” Eluni gasps, looking me over.

I shake my head.

“You need to discharge. Go to the boom room. I’ll prep Jorusk for takeoff,” Blaize remarks. He’s clearly overheard our conversation.

Jorusk glances back at me as Blaize encourages him toward our ship.

“Prince Aurelius!”

I close my eyes and swear at the sound of my father’s voice. Why is he using my real title in public? And how did he get here so fast?

Royal portal , Allele offers.

Of course, the lazy, entitled shit can’t walk himself here.

When I look up, Luslym’s eyes are wide with panic as he tracks my father’s quick, bold steps in our direction. “Prince? Oh, shit.”

I straighten to my full height and roll my shoulders to loosen them as I prepare for our confrontation. “Maybe next time, Luslym, treat everyone with the same respect. You never know who someone really is underneath their mask.”

Except my mask is pretending I’m a prince.

Port guards help break up the crowd.

Eluni looks equally petrified as Luslym.

Why did it have to be in front of everyone, Father?

Aura, it’s how he controls you. Public displays are difficult to deny.

Thank you, Allele. I know that. I just can’t believe he’s still doing this like I’m a child.

My father, in his usual purple chrome body armor and green velvet cloak, his cybernetic crown glimmering with Storm light, pulls me aside.

“What were you thinking? You cannot risk your life to end a petty conflict. Leave that to the guards! And what have I told you about publicly displaying your Storm?”

But my Storm wanted me to intervene. Our people used to trust their Storms as much as any facts. I try to twist it in a way he likes so he’ll leave me alone. “I wanted control over the Drathious as soon as possible. His kind is not understood by our people.”

“A prince does not put his life in the hands of unfamiliar beings,” he scolds me.

“Your desperation muddled your rationale. You must learn to control your emotions and stop trying to be a hero. Dreams and emotions are for the weak. And where is your cloak and Royal armor? Why do you still wear the dull armor of a soldier?”

“Because I am always in Rogue Orbit. You don’t want me onboard Tiatith , so why does it matter what I wear?”

In desperate times, dreams and feelings are sometimes all that hold me together.

I glower at him. Because I am a soldier for my people, not a prince.

I have no desire to rule over others. You have ruled my life for decades.

Nothing I have achieved is because of you.

But I’m not going to waste my breath. He won’t listen.

“You are not thinking clearly because you have pent-up energy that you need to release with a mate,” he reasserts.

It is a strain to not roll my eyes in front of him.

“I have negotiated for many good matches from other motherships. Sembia on Luridia is willing to pair with you.”