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Her eyes snap to me, as if just remembering my presence and her fear.

She rushes to cover her sex, her small hips and breasts trembling.

I hold up placating hands and slowly retrieve a small translation device from my belt.

Despite my careful movements, she winces and squirms, and a twinge of something unfamiliar—guilt, perhaps—stirs within me.

The device emits a soft hiss, clamping onto the skin beneath her delicate ear.

“Speak,” I command.

Her eyes snap to mine, full of surprise. Her mouth works soundlessly as she brushes the translation device slowly, then she speaks more strange gibberish I don’t understand.

I frown with disappointment, turning to Ignixis, “Your translation device doesn’t translate,” I state, my voice oozing contempt.

“Nonsense!” Ignixis shoots back, leaning towards the human female, tilting his head, straining to hear.

No doubt the old gas-cloud is half-deaf.

“She’s speaking a different language than the Earth’s common Englandish.

” He struggles with the strange alien word as I furrow my brow.

These humans must be a fractured people to have so many different languages.

Most known species speak galactic basic and their native language, much like us Klendathians.

“I... speak little English,” the little female mutters, sounding like sweet nectar to my ears. “I understand you little.” She bows her head in a respectful way I find pleasing.

Ignixis and I round on the female with surprise and curiosity, prompting her to retreat further into the pod. “You are not Oni ?”

What’s an Oni?

I glance at Ignixis with confusion, suddenly feeling a treacherous fluttering in my chest that shouldn’t be there. “We are Klendathians. we come from a distant planet called Klendathor,” Ignixis replies with a smoothness I envy.

The female’s dark brown eyes twinkle with awe, then her gaze shifts downward. “Why?” she mutters, fidgeting with her hands. “Why I’m here?”

Ignixis chuckles, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“I’ll let the great War Chieftain answer that,” the treacherous, disgraced Elder mocks as he leans in closer to whisper in my ear.

“Time to woo with your charming personality, young Dracoth.” My eye twitches as I suppress the Rush bubbling to the surface.

“Remember why we are here,” he adds, straightening to exit the room with a sly smirk.

The one time I actually want the old gas-cloud to speak and he leaves!

What is this feeling I’m experiencing? A churning unease and doubt bores through my guts like a gigantic tunneling wyrm.

The dainty human female stares at me with blinking eyes expectedly.

What do I say to one such as her? Look at her!

So tiny and frail, I’m afraid If I breathe too deep, I may tip her over.

“You may be my bonded female,” I state simply.

Her eyes widen, and for a moment, there is silence. She blinks rapidly, processing my words. “Bonded... female?” she echoes, her voice trembling slightly.

“Yes, you might bring me great power.” I nod at her, trying to reassure her, but to my chagrin, my words appear to have the opposite effect. She curls into a ball, wrapping her legs with her arms—her favorite position. Fragile in mind and body, it seems.

I sigh and retreat to a nearby bench, retrieving the female’s clothes, hoping it might instill some confidence in her. As I approach, her moist eyes flick to me, and she rocks back and forth. It’s not terror in her eyes, but something worse—total despair.

I drop her sterilized clothes, and she rushes to clutch them like a thirsty warrior grasping for water in the deserts of Nardune. After a brief moment, she resembles how I found her: a black skirt, white shirt, blue jacket, and green scarf.

The tears continue to leak from her eyes.

She sniffles and wipes them away, but they are unending, unlike my patience.

The sight of her irks me—the weakness, and worst of all, the pang of guilt gnawing inside me.

But what can I do? Nothing is the answer until I know which female is to be my bonded mate.

I usher her out of the medical lab with haste, with a gentle hand on her back. Already I can picture Ignixis’ displeased frown, but I refuse to torment the female with my presence any longer. Perhaps, in time, she will face her destiny with courage.

But for now, I’ll see if the others provide more fertile ground.

“Ten minutes, boy ,” Ignixis frowns, reverting to his usual mocking title.

My prediction was pinpoint accurate. He truly is an old gas-cloud. I scrunch my face and glare at him.

“Accounting for the time it took you to bring the other female back and retrieve this one,” he gestures at the female in the healing pod—the one with hair like orange fire, “that leaves... what, thirty seconds you spoke to the first female?”

Thirty seconds is generous.

“Focus,” I reply, gesturing towards the medical control terminal, doing my best to ignore the gas-cloud’s provocations.

“Focus?” Ignixis scoffs. “I am focused, boy. It is you who forgets why we’re here. Need I remind—”

I stop listening, studying the female, mesmerized in truth.

Her gorgeous hair is unlike anything I’ve seen before.

Not like the crimson of mine—before Krogoth took it from me!

Hers flutters and dances wildly within the emerald healing mist, like the human’s solar star.

It blazes orange, stirring something within me.

Well, until I remember her tears—Gods, they were unending. This female and the first one. Where do they obtain such large quantities of water? Are they part aquatic? Most of their planet does comprise vast seas, much more than my home planet of Klendathor.

It baffles me how such a weak species could survive this long.

What use is despair and self-pity? Will such emotions bring about change?

Will it destroy the culprit of your misery?

No. Only strength matters—and vengeance.

That is what counts, that is power, not this delicate softness these females display.

“Gods, look at this,” Ignixis stresses, pointing at his glowing medical terminal, drawing me back to the present. To my chagrin, I notice crimson Rush spilling from my misting eyes as I fail to understand the significance of the projection.

“This female has a cancerous growth in her breast. At least the beginning of one.” He shakes his head as I grimace, glancing back at the young female, perplexed.

“They truly are malformed. Arawnoth play a grand joke on us, bonding our proud people to ones such as these, ” he spits the last word out like poison.

His words echo my thoughts, knowing such maladies are almost unknown among my people. “Can it be removed?” I question, gesturing to the blissful human female who floats oblivious to the danger lurking near her heart.

“Is that concern I detect, boy ?” Ignixis turns with a sly smile. “Maybe I can finish my meal before you come fetch me this time?” the old gas-cloud chuckles darkly.

“Answer me,” I reply simply, denying him the satisfaction of goading me.

A flash of disappointment crosses Ignixis’ blackened face. “The healing pod has already removed all traces of the tumor.” As if to punctuate his words, the loud ping of the pod rings out. Ignixis groans as he moves to stand.

That disturbing feeling of unease churns within me once more as I study the Earth female’s sun-kissed hair, already predicting her endless weeping.

“Sit,” I command, my eyes boring into Ignixis. Not this time—this time we both endure the crying. “This won’t take long,” I grimace, rushing over to the female, her blue eyes widening at my approach. She places defensive hands against the pod door.

With slow movements, I open the translucent barrier and seal a translation device below her ear. She clutches my arm, perhaps trying to fend me off. It’s difficult to know, marveling at her delicate smallness.

“Speak, female,” I command. At my words, her eyes snap to mine, understanding blooming across her pretty face.

“You... you speak English?” she mutters, covering her petite breasts and the alluring orange fire-hair that adorns her sex.

A surprising curiosity erupts within me, wondering what it looks like beneath that little mound of fur. She screams and recoils, noticing me staring blatantly at her female-hood.

I curse myself, retreating to give the female space.

Ignixis smirks and shakes his head, enjoying this far too much. “No, little Earthling, we do not speak your... English,” he chimes in, struggling with the human word. “That device merely translates known languages to another preset one.”

At his words, the female brushes behind her ear, her other arm still covering her nudeness.

“Why don’t we start with introductions? Wouldn’t that be nice?” Ignixis smiles, showing yellowed fangs and sharpened teeth that could curdle boracks milk.

“Introductions?” she mutters weakly, appearing overwhelmed as I retrieve the female’s clothes from a nearby bench, frowning at the garish color and strange patterns of white clouds.

“Yes, introductions. Humans have names, correct?” Ignixis smiles in a predatory way that doesn’t touch his glowing green eyes. “I’m Elder Ignixis,” Former. “And this is...” His words trail off as he glances at me with a sly grin. “Dracoth the boy. ”

My fists and teeth clench as I glare at the old bastard, struggling to hold back my simmering fury.

“Boy...” the female mumbles, her eyes traveling over my titanic size with an absent look. “I’m Sandra,” she offers, her eyes downcast, staring at her interlocked hands, rocking forward.

I grimace seeing her mind struggling, the human weakness reigniting again.

“Conor... Ma and Da .” She shakes her head, her wet eyes snapping at me. “You killed them, didn’t you? You killed them all!” She screams, forming the now familiar ball the first female deployed—some kind of human defensive formation.