Page 26 of Ashes & Aether

“We live a very long time,” Orien continues, his gaze dropping to the table. “My twin hearts will beat for thousands of your Earth years. To live that long, knowing you might never build a family…”

“But Kairen and Tara.” I set my glass down. “They are romantically involved.”

That familiar grin returns to Orien’s face. “Ah. There is an exception.”

I cross my arms over my chest, leaning forward. “Explain.”

“Humans, Avaren, many other similar species… we were all created by the same entity. The Avaren call them the Creators. They’re the ones who made the quantum entanglement arrays we use to travel between galaxies.” He rolls his lips together before continuing. “I said the Avaren are nearly infertile. We can still procreate. But only with a perfect genetic match.”

I narrow my eyes, dissecting the concept. “A match.”

“A singular, flawless biological pairing.” He sets the wineglass down in his excitement. “The Avaren search every planet we liberate. We test the consenting survivors. Occasionally, rarely, the universe aligns. Tara Novak is Kairen’s genetic match. Their biology recognized each other the moment they touched. And conception between matches is a near certainty.”

I stare at him, processing the sheer, horrifying loss of autonomy he is describing.

“You turn romance into a laboratory experiment,” I state, the ice creeping back into my voice.

Orien bursts out laughing. The sound is rich, echoing off the concrete walls of my quarters. “Maggie, we do not view it as a laboratory experiment. We view it as destiny.”

I shake my head. “Destiny is a word weak people use to justify their lack of options.”

“It is a word for two halves of a whole finding each other across the dark.” He leans across the table, the amusement morphing into a burning intensity. “Your literature calls it soulmates. Two people designed entirely for one another. Mind, body, and genetics. A match cannot be forced. It is an undeniable, gravitational pull.”

I hold my ground, refusing to let the proximity fluster me. “You strip away choice. You run a blood test, a machine beeps, and you are told who you will spend the rest of your centuries with. It is entirely clinical.”

“There is nothing clinical about the way Kairen looks at Tara.” Orien tilts his head, his eyes tracing the line of my jaw. “And the machine only confirms what the body already suspects. The attraction is absolute. The connection is instantaneous.”

My pulse accelerates, a rapid thumping at the base of my throat. I push the sensation down, burying it under years of discipline.

“So.” I lace my fingers together, resting them on the edge of the table. “You conquer the Ghorvek. You burn their ships. And then what? You turn Earth into a massive dating pool?”

“When the Ghorvek are eradicated, and your people begin to rebuild, we will offer the test to anyone who wishes to take it.” Orien doesn’t blink. He watches my face, cataloging every micro-expression. “Many of my soldiers are quite eager. They have spent centuries alone. The prospect of finding their person on this planet is the only thing keeping some of them sane.”

He reaches across the table. His long, elegant fingers hover a fraction of an inch above my laced hands. He doesn’t touch me, but the heat radiating from his skin is a physical pressure.

“You should take the test, Maggie,” he purrs, the theatrical, silky register returning to his voice.

The air in my lungs turns to liquid nitrogen.

“Imagine what we might find,” he continues, his amber eyes dropping to my mouth. “A single drop of blood. A momentary scan. You could find your perfect equal.”

My left forearm begins to burn.

It is a phantom sensation, a psychological misfire, but the jagged, ragged edges of the bite scar hidden beneath my sleeve feel like they are glowing through the fabric.

Gareth Pike’s cellar. The rattling chain. The infected jaws clamping down on my arm, tearing through skin and muscle. The agonizing, drawn-out hours I spent locked in my quarters afterward, waiting for the virus to consume my brain, waiting to become a mindless, aggressive husk.

The turn never came.

I survived. I am immune. My blood defeated the Ghorvek pathogen, neutralized it entirely.

If an Avaren medical scanner touches my blood, it will not find a romantic soulmate. It will find a human who holds the biological key to withstanding the Ghorvek infection. It will find the most valuable scientific specimen in the known universe.

I know exactly what happens to specimens. They are locked in secure rooms. They are harvested. They are never allowed to make their own choices again.

Panic floods my system, and I snatch my hands off the table, dropping them into my lap where my fingers curl into fists so tight my nails cut into my palms.

“I don’t believe in destiny, Orien.”