Alien Soulmate (Paranormal Romance Aliens) Read online

  "You're right," Ithril said, smiling a little. "I was only asking what would happen. I know we are stronger together. So come, brother. Shall we go and speak with the windbags? Better now than later if we plan on getting to sleep before the sun comes up."

  Seeing his brother smile and hearing him joke made Carver relax, and he nodded. It had been ages since he'd slept properly, and the coming days were going to be a trial. They would have to go through their father's belongings and divide them up, decide what they were going to do about where to live, have a million meetings. It made his head hurt just thinking about it.

  But now was not the time to succumb to that. Now he had to put on a brave face and go with his brother to meet with the Council.

  Luckily, the Meeting Hall was in the same building as the leader's home, so they wouldn't have to stop and speak to anyone on the way. From the windows Carver could see the throngs of Sitheri gathered outside, and he could hear E'lira's gentle voice singing the song of the departed. She really was the perfect one to speak to the people about this, and Carver made a mental note to go to her before he went to bed and make sure she was going to sleep alright.

  The Hall was already full of the Council, each member sitting around the square table that dominated most of the room. Some of them were watching the large screens on the wall that showed the breaking up and reforming of some of the vigils outside, and others were looking at the screens that displayed the current state of events with the Des'kos.

  When the doors opened, all of them rose and looked at the two brothers.

  Ithril and Carver exchanged a glance, as if trying to decide who was going to break the strange news.

  The look in Ithril's eyes clearly said ‘you're the oldest; you do it', and Carver rolled his eyes but turned to face the Council.

  They were a mixed bunch, to be certain. The purpose of the Sitheri Council was to serve as a go between for the Sitheri people and the leader. The leader of the Sitheri was just one person (usually), and the Sitheri people were a varied bunch. There was no way that one person could see to the needs of all of the people on their own. So the Council worked to help, each member taking a region of the Sitheri land and speaking to the people, serving as their representative.

  Though the Sitheri were one clan, one race out of the many that could be found in their corner of the galaxy and even just on Khaosali, the planet they all lived on, they were varied as a people. Some of them had more human appearances and some were more beastly, with horns and spikes and leathery skin. There were various stages of the in between as well, especially since marrying outside of the clan had become popular.

  The Council sought to represent all of the Sitheri, so the diverseness of the people was echoed in the members in the room.

  Carver looked over all of them and then let out a breath. "As you all know by now, Angen has passed. His spirit has gone on to the stars, and he will be dearly missed. In his last hours, he told us who would be the next to lead the Sitheri, and in his wisdom, he has appointed both my brother and myself as the new leaders."

  Silence greeted the pronouncement, and it was easy to see the surprise on the varied faces in front of him. Some of the members looked to Ithril for confirmation, and he just shrugged and nodded.

  "Well, then," said Marsh, one of the more beastly looking of the group. "The leader's word is law."

  "The leader's word is law," the others murmured, though a few still looked disturbed.

  "It is," Ithril agreed. "Shall we be seated?"

  From there, it was all fairly routine. The Council members asked for more information about Angen's passing, which Carver and Ithril supplied when they knew the answers. They spoke about the current state of things with the Des'kos, and while Carver seemed in favor of continuing things the way Angen had maintained them, Ithril was much less vocal in support of that.

  Carver glanced over at him, but Ithril's face was closed off once again.

  "Have there been any new attacks?" Carver wanted to know.

  "Not that we can see. The guards will change in an hour, and they will let us know if anything has been seen. For now, it seems quiet."

  "For now," Ithril said softly. "If they find out about the change in power here, that might not last for very long."

  "What do you mean?" Marsh asked.

  "I mean that the perfect time to strike would be when there's a vacuum of power. When there's chaos."

  "But there isn't," Carver said firmly. "Angen has passed, but leadership has been assured. There's no chaos, and there's no need for them to know that something has changed yet. If their king wishes to speak with us then he can, but until then, they don't need to know anything."

  Ithril pursed his lips together, and Carver resisted the urge to sigh. It was too late in the night, and he had been awake for too long to deal with this. On top of that, he didn't want the Council to see the unrest between them. They needed to show a united front or else things would quickly dissolve into chaos, and that was one thing that they didn't have time for just then.

  "If there is nothing else, then I would like to retire for the night," Carver said. "It has been a trying day for all of us, and a long trying day for some of us."

  "Of course, Leader," Cain said, nodding. "Shall we reconvene tomorrow?"

  "That's acceptable," Carver replied, rubbing at his face. "In the afternoon, perhaps?"

  There was a chuckled of appreciative laughter and general agreement, and then the meeting started breaking up. As soon as they were out of the Hall, Carver let out a sigh. The first tendrils of dawn were visible outside, and all he wanted to do was curl up in his bed for a few hours.

  "I need to find E'lira," he mumbled to himself.

  "I'll speak with her if you want," Ithril said, coming up behind him with a glass in his hand. "You look like you got less sleep than I did last night."

  Carver tried to let go of the tension he was feeling towards his younger brother. It was probably just the lack of sleep and the fact that neither of them had properly had time to grieve for their father yet. With time, things would be alright. He rolled his shoulders and nodded at Ithril. "You're probably right. Tell her… tell her that she's not alone."

  Ithril nodded. "I will. Here." He held out the glass. "Water and something to help you sleep. I figured you'd need it."

  "I probably need something stronger than water," Carver joked, but he took the glass and downed it in one go.

  "I thought of that, too, but you need to sleep not get drunk."

  Carver opened his mouth to reply, but the room was spinning all of a sudden. He frowned, head suddenly fuzzy. He couldn't hold onto his thoughts, and it was hard to keep his eyes open. "What…" was all he got out before blackness was swamping his vision and he collapsed onto the floor.

  When he woke up next, his head was throbbing, and he was confused and disoriented. The last thing he could remember was talking to Ithril and now… now he was lying down on something soft and warm. Maybe he'd made it to bed?

  The ordeal of the day would explain why his head was hurting so badly for sure, but there was something else there. Something tickling the edge of his memory and making his headache worse.

  He opened his eyes and sat up, and everything dropped into place.

  Ithril had given him something and then he'd passed out. And now he was… in a transporter?

  What in the worlds?

  Carver scrambled up from the cot and walked around the small space. Transporters were small crafts, usually built to hold no more than one or two people. They could be preprogramed with a destination and would head on that course unless the program was overridden.

  He made his way to the control panel, frowning at the coordinates that had been put into the system. They weren't immediately familiar, but when he looked out of the massive window and saw where he was heading, his stomach dropped.

  The blue and green of the planet was instantly recognizable.

  Someone was sending him to Earth. But why? Ear
th wasn't even in the same quadrant as Khaosali. Someone clearly wanted him out of the way, and though the niggling voice in the back of his mind told him that he knew exactly who it was, he didn't want to think that his brother was capable of this kind of treachery. Not so soon after their father's passing, and not in general. There had to be something else going on, something he was missing. Perhaps someone pulling the strings that his brother felt compelled to obey.

  The reasoning seemed flat in his own head, but he pushed that away. When he got back to Khaosali he could find all the answers. But first he had to get there.

  Carver punched in the usual override code so he could reprogram the destination, only to be informed in a cool Sitheri voice that his code could not be confirmed.

  He swore violently in the same language and tried it again with the same results. No one but a Council member of the leader of the clan had the authority and the clearance to change override codes, which significantly lowered the number of people who could be responsible for this.

  He still couldn't understand the motive, though. What did anyone gain from having him gone?

  You know the answer to that, the little voice in the back of his mind said. And maybe he did. Maybe he just didn't want to face the fact that it could be possible. Either way, he was heading towards Earth, and there was very little he could do about anything until he got there.

  All he could do was take a seat and watch the strange planet he knew very little about get bigger and bigger in the window.

  Chapter 2: Ploys and Unrest

  Ithril stood in the Meeting Hall and watched morning break over the land. The mourners had gone home in groups over the course of the night, and now it was quiet and still. Somewhere in space, his brother was heading towards Earth. It pained Ithril to do it, but he knew that he didn't have another choice.

  Honestly, this whole thing had been easier than expected. He'd thought that their father was going to make Carver the leader outright just because he was older. It would have been so much harder to get him out of the way then, but Angen had made them co-leaders, giving him the same amount of power as his brother.

  If only Carver could have been different. Their father was known for his love of peace. He didn't want to start what he saw as pointless battles with the Des'kos, when bargaining with them worked the same way.

  But it didn't. They had to give away more and more of their land and their dignity to keep the barbarians appeased. All it would take was the right amount of violence, killing their king or taking some of them hostage, and they could turn this around. Instead of capitulating to the beasts, they could be the ones making demands. Ithril had been telling his father that for years, since he was old enough to know the true nature of the struggle against the Des'kos. But Angen had been ignorant and had dismissed his words time and time again.

  Well, Angen was dead now. And it pained Ithril to have to think of it like that, but he didn't have time to be sentimental.

  The Council would be convening later that day, and people would start to notice that Carver was gone. He had to do something before that happened.

  Ever since Angen had fallen ill, Ithril had been planning. Actually, he'd been planning since their mother had died. She hadn't gone peacefully like Angen. No, Bethali had been grievously injured in a raid by a few Des'kos rebels. Angen had been all set to retaliate, but when the king of the Des'kos had denounced the rebels and claimed he'd had nothing to do with sending them to Sitheri territory, Angen had stood down and forbidden anyone to lash out at the Des'kos.

  Ithril had been furious. Those barbarians had killed his mother. They'd shot her with a poison tipped arrow, and she'd died slowly and painfully some hours later. There hadn't been anything the doctors could do to slow the poison's work, and Ithril had watched the light leave Bethali's eyes.

  And Angen, the leader of the Sitheri, his father had done nothing. The king of the Des'kos had assured them that the rebels would be put to death, but there was no proof of that. No proof that it hadn't been a ploy the whole time.

  From that moment, Ithril had realized that he couldn't rely on his father. The man cared more about peace than about his family and the dignity of his people. Carver had been upset, but he'd easily bowed to their father's word.

  And that was why Carver had to be sent away. He showed every sign that he would follow in Angen's footsteps and continue giving away what little the Sitheri had until they had nothing. Until they were all but slaves to the Des'kos, forced to capitulate to their demands just to stay alive.

  Ithril wasn't going to let it get that far. Not without a fight.

  The Des'kos had conquered plenty of clans across the planet of Khaosali over the past two decades. They came from a desert land themselves and instead of working to make their home more habitable or finding an unoccupied part of the planet to live in, they had decided to seize the lands of other clans. Many of the clans had decided to fight back, but in the end, most of them had been conquered.

  It didn't make sense for one race to have so much power over the others, and Ithril was determined that the Des'kos threat was going to end and end soon. He would contact the other clans, get them to stand with the Sitheri, and they would wipe the barbarians from the face of the planet.

  And then, once Ithril had claimed his victory in their mother's name, he would send for Carver to come back. He didn't bear a grudge against his brother at all, really, he just knew that Carver would make things difficult for him.

  Once it was all said and done, they could be a family again.

  There was a knock on the door then, jarring him from his thoughts, and Ithril turned to see Cain coming in. Ithril had picked him for this specifically. Cain was one of the many Sitheri who were mixed with some other race because of how few Sitheri women there were.

  He was tall with skin as brown as a nut, and the only thing (other than his unnatural height) that made him look less than human were the silver horns that started from his forehead and then curled back on either side of his head. His eyes were a deep shade of purple, and he met Ithril's eyes calmly.

  "You summoned, Leader?"

  "Yes," Ithril said, nodding. "I need your help."

  "It is my honor to serve you, Leader," Cain said. His voice was deep and almost inflectionless, which irked Ithril because he could never tell what the man was thinking. But no matter.

  "There are going to be a few changes around here. I have spoken with my brother, and he's decided with me that we can't continue like this."

  Cain blinked slowly. "Like what?"

  "Bowing and scraping to the Des'kos! They come here and steal our land and take our resources without penalty. We just give it to them, and for what?"

  "In exchange for peace."

  Ithril snorted. "Is that what this is? Peace? Forgive me, only I though there were still skirmishes every week. I thought guards were still armed to the teeth with axes and blasters to fend off the ‘rebels' who are supposedly not sanctioned by the Des'kos king. That doesn't sound like peace to me."

  There was no response from Cain, just another slow blink, and Ithril let out a rough breath. He had to stop sounding so angry and start sounding like a leader. A leader's word was law.

  "Like I said. There are going to be some changes. I want you to find people willing to go to the other clans. I'm not stupid enough to think we can do this on our own, and I want to see if there are others who are tired of being under the thumb of barbarians."

  "Very well. We shall find these people. Where is your brother?"

  "Carver's sleeping. It's been a long week for all of us, but him most of all. Trust me when I say, I have his support in this."

  Cain stared at him for a moment, and Ithril willed himself not to flinch or look away. It was early in his leadership, and he had to start establishing his dominance now. They couldn't look at him as Angen's youngest, a hot headed little boy playing at war. No, they had to see him as the leader that he was, that he had been meant to be, and that meant mak
ing sure that he was always acting the part.

  "Very well," Cain said finally, inclining his head. "I will spread the word. When will we convene again as a group?"

  He could hear the real question in there. ‘When will Carver be back?' He'd have to come up with something to say to them before they met again.

  "After the evening meal," Ithril decided. "That will give my brother time to sleep, and us time to spend with our sister. She has been taking this hard."

  It was a strategic comment, however true. When he'd gone to speak with E'lira earlier, she'd still been in tears. But he knew that his sister was a soft spot for anyone who had watched her grow up, and the ploy worked. Cain's eyes softened and he nodded again.

  "Until then, Leader."

  Ithril waited until he'd walked away to sag with relief. As much as he believed in his convictions, this was the first time he was even attempting something like this, and he was unsure how well it was going to work.

  Carver was the one who had the plans. He had always been the one to come up with ideas and make sure that they were seen through. He was the one with the quick mind and easy smile that put people at ease while Ithril stood in the background and looked angry or uncomfortable. But he had to get past that. Carver was gone now. His transporter was probably already closing in on Earth, and Ithril had made it so that there was no way for him to get back until he was ready for him to come back.

  Ithril was on his own for the moment, and he had to make it count.

  By the time the Council was ready to convene again, he had a plan firmly in his mind. It had taken a lot of thought, and he'd gone for a long walk after lunch, wracking his brain for what he could say to explain Carver's absence. But really, it had been so clear. Their father's passing was the perfect excuse, and secure in his knowledge that no one would be the wiser, he sat down at the head of the table and watched everyone else file in.