Page 22 of Saved By My Alien Husband

21

DELPHINE

W e were expected to land at the next dome tomorrow. So far, the humans and Eldrin had gotten along with only a few incidents. Getting used to sharing a space would take time, and now we were adding a new group of humans—strangers, with no shared history to ease the inevitable tension. A cold knot tightened in my stomach as I considered it. Confrontation wasn’t difficult for me, my whole existence involved it, but sharing my feelings and vulnerabilities was.

But I couldn’t afford to let discomfort hold me back. Both the emotional and the physical, with my healing ribs. The people had to see a united front—no room for hesitation, no cracks in the foundation, yada, yada , yada . We were vulnerable in this whole mess, and I needed allies. Allies other than Haven, to his chagrin. He barely held his restraint back to let me leave the room, but when I explained the goal he understood.

I knocked on Michael's office door first.

“Come in,” he said.

Tapping at the faint seam where the door was hidden, the surface shifted with a quiet whoosh. When I stepped through, it closed again just as fast, turning back into a wall. It still felt weird, but I had the rest of my life in space to get used to it.

Michael looked up. “Delphine,” he said in greeting.

“Leader Michael,” I parroted back. Rarely did I call him leader, most people didn't, but this was official business.

I sat in the chair in front of his brown and green desk. The blend of technology and nature on the Eldrin ship was a constant fascination to me. It had these black shiny surfaces everywhere that could seamlessly rearrange a room or show a galaxy of stars, but then all the furniture looked like moss-covered trees that simply transformed into something functional. His new office was a lot cleaner than his previous one, but it'd only been a few days. We all had a lot to settle into before we went back to our old habits.

It made more sense when I thought my thirteen-year-old self had made it up. A lot of this did, but I wouldn't complain.

“Do you need something?” he asked when the silence stretched too long. He put his tablet aside and folded his hands, leaning slightly forward.

My eyes unfocused, finding a hung Persistence of Memory behind him, warped clocks over bared trees and land. I squinted at the frame, recognizing it. “Is that the copy from Dr. Sevill's office?”

“Yes,” he said with a laugh. “It was bigger than the one I had and she generously donated hers to me. We couldn't bring everything, but I wanted to have this reminder.”

Our symbol for the end of time. It felt different to me now, especially since we were saved by another species instead of saving ourselves. “It must have been hard,” I commented, “knowing we had less than a year left, while telling everyone we had a decade.”

His smile fell. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

For all the speeches he’d given about hope and perseverance, he’d carried this secret, letting us believe salvation was closer than it really was. How lonely that must’ve been.

“I’m sorry,” I said, unsure if I was apologizing for prying or for the impossible choices he’d had to make. Michael always told us to do our best, that we were the future, that life relied on us...I thought that meant he believed we could be saved.

How horrible it must have been to be the one to lie to us all. Keeping peace meant holding that burden alone.

Admiration, something so foreign to me, filled my chest. He had a tough job. I didn't envy him for it. And yet, now that job was shared with me, the human princess of an alien race.

Michael raised a brow, leaning back and folding his arms over his chest. His beard seemed more white today, as if the past few weeks have aged him beyond his years. “You should be demanding I thank you , rather than apologizing to me.”

I could tell Michael didn't say it to be mean or condescending. It was actually what he thought.

Shrugging, I said, “I won't demand a thank you. That's not my style. I'd rather you feel guilt and regret, internalized for years, than hear you admit it out loud.”

Michael laughed dryly. “I love that about you. You are never afraid to speak your mind and think differently.”

I blinked in surprise; I didn't think he loved anything about me. “You've got that wrong. I'm afraid all the time. I just decided a long time ago that my fear was an asset.”

He nodded, thoughtful. “Smart choice.”

We were quiet for a moment, staring at each other.

“What can I do for you, Delphine? You came here for a reason, I assume.”

Steeling myself with a slow exhale, I said, “I'd like to propose a truce.”

“Truce for what?” he asked,

“A truce between you and me. We are going to go to the other domes now and I don't want what is left of North America to be fractured. We need to be united in front of the rest, especially since King Candor has left you and me in charge of the humans as a whole. If the other dome leaders see us as fractured, they'll try and take that power from us. We have to avoid unrest at any cost.”

His jaw clenched. “Okay, I agree, but…” Michael hesitated, putting his hands together and squeezing tight.

“What is it?” I asked, nervous of what would make him pause.

“In line with the goal of this truce, I have something to tell you. I was considering waiting until after we brought in the European dome before telling you, but these circumstances are tense and it may be better if you know ahead of time.”

My heart galloped away from me, as fast as one of our mutated bears. “I’m listening.”

“There is going to be unrest, no matter what.”

“What do you mean?” My unease grew.

“You know how there are three other colonies in the Organization, beside us?”

“Yes.”

“And how I've been saying there were communication issues with two of the three? That a tower had gone down?”

I nodded, my unease growing heavier by the second.

His hands clasped together on the desk, the knuckles pale as he leaned forward slightly. “The Organization has already fallen and it's too late for them. The king and I decided last night. Before the fuel issue, we were still going to fly to them, scope out what was left of their supplies, but we knew we were not likely to find anyone alive. One had a series of earthquakes last year, I can only assume that it took out their tower, but before that they had shared with me they were on limited time. Their dome was damaged and was impossible to repair. It's more than likely they are all dead now.”

Breathless, his words hit me like a punch to the chest. “And the other?”

“Those in the cave enclosure were hit with an infection. It took out the majority of their colony before they stopped answering our calls. Their communication lines are fine. There is simply no one left to answer.”

So many people, dead, another secret he kept so we could stay focused and hopeful. My admiration for him drew despite the increased fear. We were so close to losing everything before Haven came.

“What is the status of the last dome?”

Michael spoke in an even tone, but I felt his restraint. “Their leader is… difficult. They follow an all-or-nothing mentality. If he refuses to cooperate, our choices are difficult: leave them behind or remove him from power by force.”

Leadership wasn’t a crown or a title—it was this. The shitty decisions that people like to judge but would never want to do.

“Being a leader sucks,” I said hoarsely. “I've got to say, this is terrible. So the Organization was just you and this asshole?”

His laugh felt like a kinship, for it was bitter like mine. “Yes, that’s the truth of it. I decided to make it seem like all was going to plan and repairs were in progress, that we still had guidance, but that wasn’t the truth.” He paused to consider something, looking me in the eyes. “In this truce we are entering, how do you feel about killing one person for the good of all?”

“Generally,” I said slowly, “I’m in favor when there is no option. Someone like that, who has taken choice from people, how would we contain them if we kidnapped them instead? There is no jail here that I'm aware of. And if there was, what hope for rehabilitation do we have?”

He nodded, his expression grave. “Exactly. The options are death or purposeful abandonment here, which is its own death sentence. King Candor said he would not harbor him if he became violent. Even when it’s necessary, decisions like this need to weigh on you. No one in power should make a choice like that and sleep well for it.”

Looking away, the implications of his words settled heavily on my shoulders. “So, how are we going to handle this?”

He tilted his head, studying me for a moment. “We’ll start the negotiation as planned, and if things go south, we’ll have to make a choice. There isn’t any fancy plan, all we can do is hope it doesn’t go as badly as I think it will. But you and Haven won’t need to be involved directly, I’m prepared to take it into my own hands.”

I shook my head. “That’s not good enough. If we’re supposed to be united, I can’t stand on the sidelines while you do the dirty work.”

“Delphine—”

“No.” My voice hardened. “If this is what leadership requires, then I’ll face it. All of it. I won’t hide behind you or anyone else.”

Michael’s gaze softened, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”

“Good.”

The tension between us eased, replaced by something close to camaraderie.

“Well,” I said, standing, “now that we’re on the same page, I need to talk to Alexandra. Do you know where she is?”

He chuckled. “Last I heard, she went in search of the library. Of course.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Figures.”

Michael hesitated as I turned toward the door. “Delphine, before you go…”

I paused, glancing back.

“Can you remind me how to open the damn door? I’ve been done with work for an hour, but I couldn’t remember how to get out.”

My barking laugh broke through the heaviness of the conversation. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he said, but I could tell he also saw the humor in it.

Shaking my head, I walked to the wall and pointed out where he needed to push. I didn't remember how to do it either the first few times, but I was happy to make fun of him for it now.

I pressed the spot to demonstrate and the door retracted. “There. Freedom,” I said, gesturing dramatically.

“Appreciate it,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement.

For the first time, I felt like Michael and I were truly on the same side. Now, to get a handle on the most popular human on the ship, my ex-roommate.