Page 6 of Bred By Sor'en

Stupid, so fucking stupid.

A Xyrelith who has just laid his claim on me stares back from behind his veil. I watch in horror as he dismisses the holographic illusion tech. The Xyreliths are known for many things, and yet also nothing at all. They're an isolated people by force. They’d tell tales of them in the education pods when I was a cub, warning that little ones who run astray would be snatched up by them, never to be seen again. They’re the space equivalent tothe fucking boogeyman. Their death-touch, an ability to secrete oil-based toxins from every inch of their obsidian flesh, causes everything from hysteria to instantviolentdeath. That’s not what bothers me most… It's said they can see how close a person is to death by a simple look.

There are a lot of things that make me uncomfortable.

Big, open, empty spaces.

Crowds.

Empty, unfeeling, unseeing eyes.

But mostly…death.

“You’re in pain. Let me help you,” he offers, his voice calm but pinched in worry, like unending velvetynight. “You don’t need to run from me.”

“I don’t want you to take me,please,” I plead. Yeah, I’m not above begging. I need food, a safe place to sleep tonight, and credits. A ride as close to the eighth quadrant as I can get. Not to be whisked off to some isolated planet with a death-omen species. This day was screwed from the jump when I stubbed my toe getting out of my bunk. I should’ve taken that as a sign that the plan was doomed and fucked straight off Vortara.

Oh, this is karma. Ripe, stinking karma if I’ve ever seen it.

He dips his head again, the odd coloring of his skin sucking the light from the already dank maintenance corridor, so deep down in the bowels that not even the ship's AI bothers to venture. His skin is as inky as the darkest voids in space, save for the white highlighting, resembling a vaguely humanoid skull on his face. A cluster of short, growth-like horns rises like a crown from around the top of his forehead, giving way to the whitest, palest hair I’ve ever seen. Pristine, long as it gathers around well-built shoulders. He’s not bulky like a lot of other species, toned but lean and tall, lanky but not in a frail-looking way. Awkward, though, as hunched over as he is, to terrorize me from inside my hole in the wall.

“Very well, Draya’la.” I watch him in silent horror as he sits just in front of the compartment, not bothering to hide his face again. His void-colored hands rest on equally as black pants as he leans against the wall.

I just stare at him because, well… now what? I’m stuck in a hole, and he’s just going to… wait me out.

“I’m Sor’en,” he offers, unhelpfully.

I play the name over in my mind a few times for good measure.

“I saw you come out of the panels. You shouldn’t be here,” I whisper, hating how scared my voice sounds. It’s not necessarilyhimthat’s scaring me, although he is scary as all hell. You get used to that as a human. Pretty much everyone is scary when you’re smaller, weaker, and easily breakable. It was a huge issue in the education pods. Even the other kids were a danger. Didn’t bode well for little Hue making fuck all for friends and resulted in injuries everywhere, from scrapes to days spent vomiting up toxins, and broken bones any time I tried. It’s the brashness of it all, the pivot from a long-debated, long-agonized plan. It’s the loss of recourse. Control. Achoice.

It’s Lunareth and the fang tied around my neck.

The ending of everything I’ve fought for years, casually sitting outside the hole he just chased his prey into.

He nods, only once. “Yes, that is true.”

I wince as I shift in the small, awkward space, unable to go further in or retreat out now that he’s sitting there. Footsteps sound down the hall, making my pulse spike. “Someone’s coming. They’ll see you.”

He faces me, offering a soft smile that looks strange on a boned, sharp face like his. “That is likely.”

My shocked expression turns to irritation quickly. Irritation is good; better than fear. “What are you doing then? Just going to get caught?”

“You asked me not totakeyou out of your spot. I will not.” His hands clench, my heart stumbles a beat at the concept that he wants to. I bet he wants nothing more than to rip me from my dank safe space and leave to who knows where with me in tow.

“You can’t just stay in the hall!” I hiss as the footsteps draw closer. My eyes keep trying to dart behind him, but he eats up the opening, obscuring my view.

“If I cannot take you, and I cannot go without you, then it leaves few viable choices, little gift.”

Little gift.

I ignore the odd way my belly flip-flops.

“You can go without me, asshole.”

The somber look in his eyes tells me he doesn’t agree. The brief furrowing of his ridged brow tells me he probably doesn’t understand my insult. Which is likely for the best.

“What if you get arrested?” I hiss again.