Callisto: Bound to the Alien Commander |18+

Chapter 45

The six-hour silence on the way back to Capitol City feels like a weight on my shoulders. I will myself to sleep, to let my eyes drift closed but I can't.

Memories of the day Gaia and Macsen saved us, of the first time we rode in an airbridge, keep flashing in my mind. I was terrified. I'm sure Santi was too. He didn't seem afraid though. If he was he didn't show it.

My heart is in my throat as we touchdown. There are flowers everywhere. Flowers and thousands of An'eo in the courtyards and lining the walkways to the Capitol building. With blurry, tear-filled eyes, I clutch Clarisse's hand.

Even surrounded by thousands of people, the walk into the building is silent, eerily so. No one speaks, moves, or even breathes.

The dining room is set with a beautiful spread of exotic fruit and flowers. It looks too beautiful to eat. The vibrant colors and soft, sweet smells feel too cheerful for a mourning meal.

Sant's chair is flipped upside down, making it unusable for anyone else.

When everyone has gathered around the table Ronan begins to speak just as he did at the last mourning meal.

"You are lost for now.

May the universe hold you,

We will not forget.

May the sun enfold you."

He looks up to make eye contact with me and Clarisse. "Speak your dead."

"Dr. Arturo Santiago." We say together in raspy, shaky voices.

Forcing down a few bites of food under Ronan's watchful gaze, I try to focus on anything other than the pounding in my head. I've cried too much in the past twenty-four hours. My brain feels swollen and my eyes burn.

"Eat one more piece of fruit," Ronan leans in and whispers as he scowls at my nearly full plate.

I turn, ready to reply with some snarky response about not being a child. When our eyes meet, the look on his face stops me. He's not being bossy, he's worried about me. Acting like a child about someone who is treating you like a child won't help.

Taking another piece of fruit I swallow it, ignoring the nausea.

When the meal is over, I still feel heavy. This is it. We've had his mourning meal, and we've honored his memory. Now, it's time to move on but it doesn't seem like enough. He deserves more for what he did for us. He deserves more for being the last of his kind. The very last human male.

"Come," he whispers, taking my hand.

"Where are we going?"

"You will see," his face is somber as he leads me outside. The sun is just starting to set, the purple streaks in the sky reflecting off his hair. He never looks human. He's always something more. Right now, he looks like a god walking on earth, gently leading me away.

Past the gardens and the human museum, to the garage.

"Ronan, where are we going?"

"Patience."

Pouting, I sit in the passenger seat as he loads a few things into the back of the truck. I'm not in the mood to be surprised right now.

He puts on a specific song, one I don't recognize, and drives us away from the city. I want to climb into his lap, to force him to look into my eyes. I know he's holding himself back. Instead, I sit, silently, missing him even though he's right beside me.

He takes us about thirty minutes up a rocky but fairly low hill slope. At the top, he stops the car at the edge of a vista overlooking a lake. Climbing out of the truck, I'm completely mesmerized. I can't tear my eyes away from the water. Against the purple sky, the bright turquoise color seems to glow.