We escorted them to their ship on the day of their departure. Lekla stopped in front of me and gave me a strange look.
“You humans are not what I expected,” she said wistfully. “Neither is the rest of your Vanguard. You are nothing like what the General has been indoctrinating our population about for decades. You could have exterminated us at no cost to yourselves, but you laid down your lives instead to eradicate the threat and give my people a chance to be reborn. We would have never done the same for another species.”
“It is the sworn duty of a Peacekeeper,” I said matter-of-factly. “Protect the weak, defend the innocent, give hope to the helpless.”
Lekla snorted and slowly shook her head. “Compassion,” she said with derision. “It is your greatest strength. I hope it will never become your biggest downfall.” She turned towards my mate and examined his features as if she wanted to memorize them. “I go home to record the last of my memories before I die. I take back every harsh word I have ever spoken to you. You surprised me far more than the hybrids.”
Varnog raised an eyebrow but said nothing, waiting for her to expand on her thought.
“You are not only a formidable asset on the field, you are also not the senseless animals you were created to be,” Lekla said pensively. “You have earned the unconditional love and respect of your people and of this female—a strange concept for us. And above all, you have shown honor and integrity, which was highly unexpected. Queen Xerath would like to extend the invitation to all Scelks to officially become the new breed of the Kryptids.”
My mate and I both recoiled in shock. “Excuse me?” he said, thinking like me that he had misheard.
“We have never done such a thing in our history. Any new breeds we create are considered as animals meant to serve the colony in one capacity or another. You would be equals to our Generals, an independent higher breed.”
“Equal to Generals? Does that mean you would expect my Scelk brothers to breed with your Queen?” Varnog asked, disbelievingly.
Lekla raised an eyebrow and shrugged one shoulder in a way meaning ‘What do you think?’
Varnog chuckled while I stared speechless. “You flatter us, Elder Lekla, but I’m afraid I must decline. I will naturally pass on the offer to my brothers. However, I know them well enough to say without hesitation that it will be no.”
She smiled. “I expected as much. Before I go, read me.”
Varnog’s eyes widened. He appeared to hesitate for a second before complying. His hand holding mine tightened, and he swallowed hard before giving the female a strange look.
To my shock, she reached out a hand to his cheek and gently caressed it. With a final nod in my direction, she dropped her hand and started climbing the ramp into the vessel where Shuria awaited her.
“What just happened?” I asked.
“She said that of the millions of eggs she has tended, and hatchlings she has nurtured, I will forever be the one she’s the proudest of,” Varnog replied.
The barely perceptible trembling of his haunting voice revealed how deeply her words had touched him. I smiled fondly as I watched Lekla’s receding back until she entered the vessel. I would miss the old hag.
“Let’s go home, love. We have a wedding to plan,” I said, taking his hand.
Although he smiled and followed me willingly, I knew he was sweating bullets at the thought of meeting my parents and what they might think about my new look. The silly man was so clueless. Not only did he have nothing to worry about on that front, he hadn’t even realized that Scelks were the new black. Every woman on Khepri—and beyond—wanted one wrapped around her body, especially as a body pillow. Mantles were so yesterday. It was all about the wings. Plus seeing the terrifying Scelks, Varnog and Reklig, turn into cuddly teddy bears with Madeline and me had many ovaries bursting with envy.
How could they not?!
What was initially supposed to be a small thing—serving as an excuse for my parents and siblings to obtain the far too rare temporary visas to leave Earth because of our damn Primitive Planet status—turned into a big hoopla. My psychic sisters wanted to be there. My Scelk brothers wanted to make a big thing out of their leader mating a human. Wrath was talking my ears off about Legion, Chaos, and all the others getting their feelings hurt about not being invited. Naturally, I had no choice but to cave in. However, I made it a condition that they take care of the entire headache of organizing it, but according to my specifications.
They were far too happy to comply.
After all, things had significantly quieted down since Khutu’s defeat. Tabitha had begun mentoring Varnog into becoming an analyst like her. His intuition was almost scary in its frequent accuracy. The rest of us weren’t idle either, far from it. Many conflicts that had taken a backseat or been put on a semi-hiatus while we dealt with the greater threat, now demanded our entire attention. This in turn allowed many of the civilians that had volunteered for the Coalition forces to return to their regular lives while we picked up the slack dealing with territorial wars, space pirates, and the far too real problem of flesh traders.
But it didn’t put the same strain on our resources as the Kryptid wars had.
Life was good.
The day my parents landed on Khepri came with a delightful surprise. Kwan—a childhood friend and one of my most promising cadets from my days in the US Air Force—was finally joining the Vanguard. I was beside myself with excitement. Not only was she a wonderful girl, ace pilots of her caliber were too few and far between. But seeing Wrath’s jaw drop when she came down the ramp before swallowing painfully past the swelling in his throat brought me to tears. To think I could have introduced them years ago, if only I had known.
“Get a grip, girl. I thought the Vanguard was supposed to make you tougher?” Mom said, naturally assuming it was seeing them that had me falling apart.
Her roughness took my poor Varnog by surprise, and he seemed at a total loss whether to defend me or keep quiet. I chuckled and hugged the grumpy woman, while psychically reassuring my mate that she always used that tone to hide when she was getting emotional.
When she turned to my man, I almost burst out laughing at the panicked look on his face. I felt horrible for being so uncharitable, but who would have imagined saying Varnog and deer in headlights in the same sentence?
She examined him from head to toe, the same unreadable, grumpy expression plastered on her face so similar to mine, which made my poor man squirm even more.
“So, where’s your ladder to climb that beanpole?” she asked me.
“Mom!” I said before bursting out laughing again.
“Linda!” Dad said disapprovingly before pulling me into his bear hug embrace.
My dad was a burly, 5’10 man to my mom’s even more petite than me 4’11. And yet, you’d think she was a pit-bull.
“What? It’s a fair question,” she mumbled. “Hello, son.”
“Hello Mrs. Ha—”
“Nope, stop it right there,” Mom interrupted in a tone that brooked no argument. “You can call me Mom, Mother, Ma’am, but no Mrs. Hamilton. That’s my mother-in-law’s name.”
“Mom, stop giving him a hard time,” my brother Justin said, before turning to Varnog and extending him a hand. “Hi, bro. Love the scales.”