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My wrist was caught, then the other, Murdoch growling lowly, “You need me alive, Lorieyn. I am valuable to you. I will protect you while we are at war.”
None of this made sense. Where was my mate? “Let go!”
Taking a wise step away from where I panted and plotted his death, Murdoch set me free and put his hands before him in supplication. “Key filtration towers were sabotaged in the night; fog is pouring into the city—forcing the panicking humans into a bottleneck at strategic locations we can control. The gates were opened, and vorec have been allowed to roam the streets.”
It was unspeakable, my face going pale. “Millions will die.”
“But not all of them.” The agitating, smug male took another step back, gesturing to the cabinets where clothing was stored. “We will spare many to assure a city of this size will not fail. Farmers, workers?—”
“Slaves?” The humans would become the hybrids’ slaves, and I was struggling to wrap my head around why.
But the why was within me, wasn’t it? Right there, a little blob of cells I had been afraid for.
And my mate had seen it.
And he had acted… immediately… to protect us both.
My beastly mate was gathering heads to put on a plate… to lay at my feet.
Dropping my face to my hands, I let out a sigh, trying to make sense of how things could have escalated so quickly.
Seeing I would make no move to cover myself, Murdoch did so for me, draping something over my shoulders as I tried and failed to properly process the rest he had to share. “In the North Quadrant, your mate is assuring that key government officials do not survive to see the dawn—fog or no. By midday, the broadcasts will be sharing the hybrid narrative, directing survivors to safe locations so we might sort through them.”
What was I to say to genocide? How was I to face a dark, unsettling fact that I felt some relief to find a bad world was being unmade?
Another boom shook the building, the male urging me forward so he might seat me in a chair in case I lost my footing again. “Navigation was disrupted. Hovercars are crashing into buildings and one another; visibility is almost zero in the fog. There are fires, and shortly, there will be famine. The water supply is no longer safe for human consumption, though it is safe for those of us who are of this world.”
Swallowing, I glanced through my fingers at the man standing tall over me. “This was not a quickly planned coup.”
“No.” He nodded, unapologetic as his eyes traveled, again, to my belly. “We have been strategizing for centuries, but the urgency to enact our plan intensified the instant you went into estrous. You encouraged a large portion of our female population to give us what we have been begging for.”
Pure-born hybrid daughters—a real chance for our species' survival.
And should the hybrids’ revolution end in success, no human overlord would ever lay a hand on our precious babies again.
The price? The annihilation or enslavement of the human species from which we were made.
The male continued, “With this alteration in female cooperation and an expectation of vulnerable offspring, leadership decided collectively… to choose a king. Every general agreed. Cyderial is giving you and my future mate a new world. He is keeping his word to us all in this very moment by savaging the humans’ city.”
A tear slipped over my cheek, a show of weakness in front of a male who would exploit every advantage he might find. Still, I met his eyes, my voice steel. “Of the three of you, I like you least.”
He gave me a smirk, leaning his bulk on the counter at his back. “Boreal is as interesting as a bag of rocks, and Aegir is so old his mind is warped by all he’s survived to make it this far. I will be the one she chooses. I do not doubt it in any way.”
I had always liked rocks, and Aegir’s beauty would be something to contend with. But Murdoch was a problematic character—one who would be far more underhanded than even Cyderial.
The ground trembled again, a small object falling from a nearby shelf.
“That is more than a hovercar hitting the side of a building.” That was artillery.
Unconcerned, he crossed his arms over his chest and settled back. “There is some resistance. A group of extremists have been stockpiling for a siege. They are firing their rockets blind into the fog, shooting their guns, and killing one another while they breathe poison and gnash their teeth. In a few days, it will be over. When the last bullet is spent, we will collect those humans willing to kneel to their new king and queen.”
I was going to be sick. “Don’t.”
Cutting me a sardonic glance, Murdoch smirked as he always did. “He knew you would be shocked, angry even. Take this time to cool your thoughts so you can support a mate who is risking his life so your daughter will be born free.”
My stomach roiled. One dry heave and the man grabbed a container off the counter, holding it under my head right in time. It wasn’t much, but the vomit burned like fire coming up.
As if my shame was being released into that bucket.
