Page 25 of Matched to the Alien King
I didn’t even wish to roll back time and swallow those lies before I’d said them aloud. No, I would do the exact same thing again. And again. Because they’d stopped Nera’s tears.
I’d discovered right then that I would walk through fire, suffer a thousand days under a thousand suns, and raze entire planets to the ground if it meant she wouldn’t cry.
Because when she did, it broke something irreparable inside me. She’d shed too many tears, more than anyone should bear. Enough was enough.
She deserved happiness now, and if I could bring her a fraction of what she gave me, then I would do anything to keep it that way.
Anything, including keeping her from the truth about me.
Did I truly believe all this, or were these just the mad ramblings of a selfish Xenoxx king who was acting with his hearts, not his fuxxed-up head?
After Nera’s style team whisked her away, I contacted Axxel. He’d set me straight. Laugh in my face and call me a pigeon-eating tosser, but…
Yes, that was probably all he’d do.
Because of Nera’s expert mechanical wizardry, Axxel’s slightly orange holographic face soon appeared in my communicator’s viewscreen.
“What’s this?” He pulled himself off the floor of Nera’s ship’s brig to his full height, looking a little tired but otherwise in good health. “Is it truly you? It’s been so long that I almost forgot you existed.”
“Funny, Axxel,” I said without a trace of humor. “Listen—”
“But you’ll be happy to know I didn’t forgetyouexisted because Nera’s crew has supplied me with stellar reading materials, all about you.” From behind his back, he brandished holographic magazines, the kind with astonishing headlines like “Are Black Holes the Secret Ingredient to the Perfect Spaghetti Sauce?” and “You Can Own This Planet for a $1—Just Provide Your Bank Account Number!” and “Sexiest Alien Ever?” next to…my picture.
“What?”
“Yeah. Crazy.” Axxel’s eyes widened as he flipped through one of the magazines. “Even crazier is that you didn’t tell me your favorite food ever is mango-pinecone salad with the frosted flakes of your enemies’ dried blood sprinkled over it. This feels like something I should know.”
“What?”
“Yeah. Crazy,” he said again, shaking his head. “The only part about you they got right is that you can’t keep your eyes off of Nera Cotrobin, ‘the enigmatic Earth Space Fleet captain who apparently has run out of Fs to give and who is gradually thawing underneath the hungry heat of His Majesty’s stare.’” He made a gagging sound and tossed the holographic magazine to his feet. “Sorry, but I can’t read any more about your hungry heat.”
I groaned. “Thank the goddess for that.”
“You look troubled, Maxx. Did you run out of pinecones?”
“Someone tried to kill me the night before last.”
Any good humor left on his face dissolved in half a second. He was the very definition of loyal.
“Who?” he demanded, his jaw pulsing with the steady grind of his teeth.
“A contestant on the show named Emjay.”
“The one who mysteriously went home in the dead of night?”
“You’re watching the show?” I asked incredulously.
“The whole universe is watching, Maxx. Now, what happened? Obviously, you’re fine and she’s gone, but is shegonegone?”
I nodded. “Self-defense.”
“An assassin?”
“She said she wasn’t.” I gave him a meaningful look, trying to convey everything I could without the use of certain words. You never could tell who might be listening in, especially aboard Nera’s ship. “And I believed her.”
Axxel’s expression went grim, and I could tell that my message had been received. That she’d tried to kill me because of what I was, not who I was. That she knew I was a Faid.
His mouth opened and closed several times, likely filled with questions he wanted to ask but couldn’t.
