Veren signaled to the vessel overhead, and a transport beam stabilized in the center of the clearing—a column of shimmering energy that looked solid enough to touch.
“Ready?” Lor asked, his hand finding mine, fingers intertwining with quiet intimacy.
I looked around at the jungle that had become more than just a setting—it had become a character in my story, a friend, a protector. Then I looked at Lor, whose golden eyes held promises I was only beginning to understand.
“Ready,” I confirmed, squeezing his hand. “Let’s go home. Both of them.”
The transport beam enveloped us, and the jungle disappeared in a flash of light.
The rift gateshimmered like quicksilver between ancient stone columns, each one inscribed with symbols so old they predated even the Rodinian records. Colony vessel Aeron loomed above us, a behemoth of gleaming metal and pulsing light that seemed to stretch halfway across the sky. I couldn’t help but gape. After a week in the jungle with only Phil and Lor for company, the sudden immersion in advanced alien civilization left me dizzy with sensory overload.
“It’s a Way Station,” Lor explained, his hand resting protectively at the small of my back. “Built by the Forerunners. No one knows how old the gates are.”
The docking bay we stood in was cavernous, with arched ceilings that soared at least fifty feet high. Aliens of various species moved purposefully through the space—some humanoid, others decidedly not. I spotted what looked like sentient crystalline structures floating in containment fields, and something that resembled an octopus piloting a mechanical exoskeleton.
“And I thought the jungle was wild,” I murmured, earning a soft rumble of amusement from Lor.
“The Nexus connects thousands of worlds,” he said. “This is merely one crossing point of many.”
Near the rift gate stood two Eridani Alpha soldiers—towering, built like sculpted gods with too-perfect hair and an energy that crackled like a thunderstorm behind their eyes. They wore armor of a design different from Lor’s—more ornate, with sweeping lines that emphasized their broad shoulders andnarrow waists. Everything about them seemed calculated to intimidate and impress.
“Who are they?” I whispered, unable to look away from their imposing presence.
“Eridani Alphas,” Lor growled, his tail flicking in what I now recognized as irritation. “Elite warriors and form the basis of Legion Command.”
Several smaller figures moved around the Alphas—still taller than me but more slender, with the same ethereal beauty but gentler features. They attended to the Alphas with a deference that seemed both cultural and instinctive.
“And the others?”
“Omegas. Their counterparts.” Lor’s voice held a note of disapproval. “The Eridani believe in strict biological hierarchy. Alphas command, Omegas serve.”
I watched as one of the Alphas gently adjusted a panel on an Omega’s wrist device, his massive hand dwarfing the Omega’s arm but touching with surprising tenderness. Despite their intimidating size, the Alphas treated their smaller companions with care—like they were precious, valuable.
“They look like they could sell cologne and destroy armies simultaneously,” I muttered.
Lor made that sound again—half laugh, half growl. “An apt assessment. The Eridani are known for both their combat prowess and their aesthetic appeal.”
As we approached the gate, the two Alphas turned to watch us. The intensity of their gaze was physical—like walking into a wall of scrutiny. They looked at me. Sniffed, actually. The one on the left, with silver-streaked black hair that fell to his shoulders, inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring.
“Terran female,” he said, his voice so deep it seemed to vibrate in my chest. “Omega-compatible. Interesting.”
I stiffened. “Excuse me?”
The second Alpha, slightly shorter but broader through the shoulders, with copper-colored hair pulled back in elaborate braids, circled us slowly. His eyes—violet and luminous—assessed me with unsettling thoroughness.
“Unmated,” he observed, ignoring my question. “But not unclaimed.” His gaze flicked to Lor. “Your scent is on her, Rodinian, but no bond mark. Unusual for your kind.”
Lor’s hand tightened at my waist, his claws pressing against my shirt without breaking through. “Our customs are not your concern, Eridani.”
The first Alpha smiled, revealing teeth that were just a bit too sharp to be human. “The Terran worlds are neutral territory. Unclaimed females, especially those with compatibility markers, are of interest to many houses.”
“I’m standing right here,” I said, crossing my arms. “And I’m not an ‘omega’ or whatever you think I am. I’m a human. A person. With agency and a name.”
Both Alphas raised their eyebrows in identical expressions of surprise, then amusement.
“She has spirit,” the copper-haired one said to Lor. “Admirable. But dangerous without proper bonding protection. The neural link you’ve formed is preliminary at best.”
Lor’s tail lashed once, sharply. “We do not require your assessment.”
