Page 82 of The Pregnancy Pact

“I do believe something should be done about the wild humans,” he went on.

I allowed myself the slightest measure of hope.

“Yes,” I agreed. “But is wiping them all out the answer?”

The Admiral nodded. “There might be an effective middle ground.”

“If you’ve a suggestion, I am happy to hear it,” I offered.

The Admiral didn’t hesitate. Perhaps he’d been contemplating the matter. I listened. Keenly.

“On Earth,” the Admiral said, “there is an old saying. About cutting off the serpent’s head. Bluntly put, once the head is gone, the body is vanquished.”

My mind leapt towards the meaning of his metaphor.

“Remove the leaders of the wild humans…”

“And the rest will likely fall into line.”

My heart quieted. Assurance flooded my veins. This. This was what Lorelai had advised. At the time, I’d been so overwhelmed I’d not recognized or accepted the wisdom in her words. Now I saw it. My human wife had been right all along. This was the perfect solution to the madness. It answered the bloodlust of the more hot-tempered Lead Advisors, such a Gorb. It effectively dealt with the problem of the wild humans—and they were a true problem. But it left the innocent intact, giving them the chance to submit to Asterion control. Which was, ultimately, the control of the Coalition itself.

“There is great wisdom in your words,” I approved, going so far as to reach out and clap the Admiral on his armored shoulder. “Will you go with me to present the matter to the Coalition?”

He nodded his armored head. “I will. Lead the way.”

Turning, I walked swiftly down the gleaming metal corridors of the Coalition’s ship, hurrying towards the large meeting room where my peers waited. Provided they approved the plan, further decisions would have to be made. Military tactics approved. Who would go in force? Abidah, leading an air strike? Or Admiral Corba and his ground troops? Where would they strike first? Did we know enough about the leaders of the wild humans to order the assault, or would there need to be reconnaissance first?

I was no military leader. Those decisions would have to be carefully crafted, with the help of our armed personnel. However, there was a freeness to my soul and lightness to my step as my feet carried me towards the other Coalition members. Lorelai would be soothed. Caide and his wife would be safe. A war would be prevented. Earth helped.

My mate will be happy. My son protected.

Nothing mattered more than that.

I was cheered, bolstered. My footsteps quickened as I approached the meeting room. Already I could hear my colleagues’ voices. Gorb’s insistent tones. Drelor calmer, and reprimanding. Briishan, defensive. They were arguing over the matter. Feeling confident that I would soon present the solution the problem, I did not pause before entering the room, but strode inside, the Admiral at my heels.

Or, that is what I intended to happen.

Even as I swept in, assured that the Admiral and I would win the day, my phone buzzed insistently. I took the time to glance down at the watch on my wrist. An alert—incoming message from Sirena.

“You’ve lost, Sirena,” I growled under my breath. I had no time for her or her machinations.

However, curiosity prompted me to glance down once more to see what my fellow Asterion Elder had to say.

I came to a complete stop, my gaze glued to my watch.

“Sir?”

I barely registered the Admiral speaking behind me.

This cannot be.

“Sir, is everything well?”

I could not move. I could not breathe. The air had been sucked from my lungs. My heart had been ripped from my chest.

All around me, voices continued to rise and fall in an indistinct hum.

The message from Sirena was a photo. Of Lorelai, my human wife, my mate, my soul, lying on a floor. Beaten. Her face swollen till it was nearly unrecognizable. Her body a twisted, crumpled heap. Her clothing mussed and torn from the cruelty of the thrashing.

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