Tiny and Fierce by Margo Collins (love novels in english TXT) 📗

in the end. Though my parents were selling me off to a world they considered inferior, so they must have a line in the sand when it came to their qualms with other species.

And that line was—make our position stronger by pimping out our son.

The holo-image of the Duprasi second-born princess flashed into my head.

Short, standing at only two juvenile wingspans tall, with pale brown fur covering an admittedly nicely shaped body. But that was where the good ended. Her black eyes were too small for her face and too close together beside her triangular nose. Her pursed mouth was crowned by thick white whiskers, and the longer the nails, the higher the status in Duprasi society. So hers curled towards the floor in concentric waves of discolored grey.

Maybe I was a bastard for judging her on appearance. But, gods, I didn’t want to be stuck with someone I couldn’t stand the sight of for the rest of my life!

If Lise could see the beauty in Evik, who the hell was I to judge though? Just because I couldn’t be bothered to find out if the Duprasi princess had a good personality...

“Alder?” Morpheus’s deep voice broke me out of my internal debate.

“What is it?” I questioned grumpily, mad at myself for being such a royal Danickan dickwad.

“I find that I, too, have feelings for our new captain. You are not alone in your frustrations.” He said it casually, little inflection to his voice. Yet, it was the most personal thing I’d heard from his mouth in a long time.

“You?” I scratched my head cartoonishly, walking over to where he was still slumped down in the same chair he’d taken when Lise had been railing at me in her petite, yet fearsome style. “I didn’t think you cared about that sort of thing. Hell, I’ve never seen you take a second look at a female before.”

Morph shrugged his great, metallic wings and the movement caused rainbow prism light to dance across the alloy walls. If Lise were interested in Morph, would I be so upset?

Yes, I decided.

Because, in the end, it wasn’t about Evik being… bug-like. It was the fact that I wanted her. I wanted to be with her. And if not exclusively, I sure as stars should have been the first conquest. I was handsome. Humanoid. Powerful, dammit.

Sparks flew from my fingertips and my skin glowed softly.

Not a lot of juice left actually, I thought, not for the first time. I had a few small magicks left, or maybe one great big show of power.

More than that, and I would be empty and useless.

I realized Morph hadn’t responded to me, aside from his shrug of wings.

“Seriously, Morph. You like Lise?” I pressed, moving until I was standing in front of him. I crossed my arms, controlling my breathing so my magicks would stop flaring to life.

“I find that she is… formidable,” he offered, standing up from the chair. He towered over me, and I hated that, but he rarely used his sheer size as an intimidation factor. “My wife was also formidable. Yet, kind. She always helped those in need, no matter the cost to herself. I see that quality in our human, tiny though she may be.”

“Our human…” I let the two words sit on my tongue, and they felt both wrong and right. My people tended towards monogamy. As did Morph’s people, though they were quick to become mated again if their spouses died or went missing. “I’m going for a walk to clear my head,” I said abruptly.

“Do not forget that we will need to cleanse our forms before taking up concealment in Blue’s bolt-holes. I am checking our coordinates, and then I will ensure that I do not smell unpleasant to your, or Evik’s, olfactory senses.”

“Right, right,” I mumbled, half-listening, “I’ll shower or whatever.” I waved him off carelessly before striding quickly off the bridge.

I needed to find Lise and apologize. Evik too, though he hadn’t heard what I’d said. Still, he was family, and I wanted him to know, in no uncertain terms, that we were brothers.

Egg sac and chitin sharing warrior as one, I corrected. Thinking of the terms Evik most often used. Terms of endearment, of familial connection.

When I was out of sight of Morph, I began to jog. “Hey, Blue. Can you hear me?”

“Yes, Prince Alder Faeweather, Regulus the Sixteenth, I hear you.” The AI’s pleasant voice sounded through a nearby speaker and seemed to jump to adjacent speakers as I ran through the ship.

“Where’s Evik now?”

“He is in his quarters, Prince Alder Faeweather, Regulus the Sixteenth.”

“Can you stop calling me that? Alder is fine.”

“I cannot, Prince Alder Faeweather, Regulus the Sixteenth. Now that I know your status, my diplomacy programming will not allow me to address you informally.”

“That’s… irritating,” I grumbled. Everything was bothering me today. My skin began to glow again and then grow slick with excretions. Something was wrong. That shouldn’t happen unless I was turned on or imminent danger caused it to leak as a defensive maneuver. Slick skin is hard to grab onto.

I slowed my pace, pulling to a stop and realizing my breath was coming in sharp, painful gasps. I slammed a palm against my chest, over my dual hearts. I could feel their rhythm by pulsing little bursts of magic from my hand into my body.

My magicks were too low.

And the double beating was out of sync.

“Stars be damned.” This wasn’t good. I knew I needed to recharge, but I’d never gotten so low on juice before. I’d thought the horror stories of fae going pale and dying from lack of energy had only been scare tactics to keep the younglings in check.

But here I was, my organs suffering, because I hadn’t juiced up properly in far too long.

I stumbled down the curved hallway, making it to my quarters and dropping to my knees to shuffle across the floor to a sleek black bag.

With shaking, slick hands, I pulled the biometric scanner zipper, which