StarPyre

allowed my jealousy to take control and had lashed out at him as a coping mechanism in these dire times. It wasn’t his fault we were here—he had tried to warn us against embarking on our last cargo run—but I’d blamed him nevertheless.
I couldn’t allow the tension to keep growing between us, drifting further apart from one another instead of standing together as a united front. If Auro wasn’t going to address what was going on with Celyze, then I would, because all of this silence wouldn’t solve anything.
“I am going to talk to Celyze,” I said, standing as I met Tori's confused gaze. “Luwyn talk Celyze. No Auro. No Tori.”
She looked over her shoulder toward the male in question and glanced back at me, nodding. She bit her lip, a gesture I noticed her make when she was nervous or thinking. “Luwyn talk Celyze. Yes.”
“Let me know if I’m needed,” Auro added in our native tongue. “We will need to—”
“I know,” I sighed. “That’s part of the reason why I’m going to talk to him alone. We can’t keep ignoring the fact that our time is running out.”
“Good luck, brother.”
Those words struck a chord within me.
He’d noticed, too, by his widening eyes and sharp intake of breath. He’d never called me brother before, not even after all these cycles, but now that we were sharing a mate, aware that every solar may be our last, it only made sense for us to be brothers. He’d taken me in as a crew member and dealt with hardships alongside me, as a comrade in arms. What better word could describe the bond we had formed?
I nodded and smiled. “I will, brother.”
Celyze watched me with guarded eyes as I crossed the room. He’d probably overheard our conversation. It was okay if he did, it would only make this less painful to bring up.
“It’s time to get this out in the open,” I said, plopping down beside him. “You’ve been sitting in your secluded corner long enough. Talk.”
He stared at the ceiling as if trying to will himself from this room—or perhaps seeking guidance from the stars. “There’s nothing to talk about. In two solars, the Vhalxt will come and scan Tori. If we try to resist, they will punish us.”
“That’s it, huh?” I scoffed, not believing what I’d just heard from his lips. “You’re just going to give up?”
“You tell me,” he mocked. “You’re the one who thinks he knows everything.”
“I never said I did.”
“You implied it.” He shot me a glare. “So tell me what to do, then. Because you clearly believe I’m not a competent Cosmic Soul, and never will be.” He sighed and glanced across the room, where Auro and Tori sat together.
I was lost for words. What had happened in the last few solars to make him so . . . negative? He’d always been the optimist in our crew, even if some of his reasoning was faulty.
Growing up alongside Cosmic Souls, I understood how unusual their minds were, especially after they looked into the beyond. Sometimes they had difficulty differentiating between the present and the future, especially if they were unexpectedly jolted out of a trance. My siblings had tried to explain to me how the beyond felt many times, to no avail. My father finally gave me the answers I sought so I could stop bothering the rest of the family. The only way he could describe the feeling was by comparing it to the moment before a climax—the few seconds of euphoric floating before you came crashing down with the rush.
My father was one of the rare Cosmic Souls who bonded with another. My mother was a royal with an affinity for healing and growing plants. Together, they produced some of the most powerful healers among all Cosmic Souls—and then they bore me, a dull emerald. All of my siblings chose to remain celibate, dedicating their energy to important roles as doctors for the Federation. We had nearly nothing in common. None of my siblings knew how a climax felt, so they couldn’t have explained the beyond to me the way our father had.
If that was how Celyze felt every time he communicated spiritually, then no wonder his wings always sparkled, and his head always seemed in the clouds. The beyond was a Cosmic Soul’s equivalent of an orgasm. As a male, I could understand the need to experience it often.
Only I hadn’t seen Celyze enter his trance-like state for a few solars. I’d never noticed him glowing or his wings shimmering lightly.
I studied the male as dread filled me, making my wings droop in shame.
While I’d been enjoying myself with Tori and Auro, Celyze had been slowly wasting away. Now that I got a closer look at him, I could see how his once-vibrant blues and silvers were now fading into a grayer shade.
“What happened?” I breathed. “Why is your color dimming? Are you sick?”
Celyze chuckled, but the sound came out more like a cough. He covered his mouth to mute the noise, but in the heavy silence of the cell, it didn’t go unnoticed. I shot a glance at Auro, raising a hand to prevent him from coming over. Sometimes Celyze liked his solitude, and I feared that if we crowded his space, he would clam up.
“You don’t know?” He gazed at me, and his once bright, icy blue eyes were now a pale opal. Their swirl and glow had dimmed to almost nothing. “Look at me. I’m dying.”
“You’re dying?” I scanned his body for any wounds I could have missed. I remembered he’d collapsed when the Vhalxt came, but I’d figured he had tripped in fear, not because they’d shot him. “Where are you injured?” I asked, unable to locate any wounds.
“There’s nothing you can do about it,” he dismissed, turning to the ceiling once more. “Once the Vhalxt return, I will offer myself as a sacrifice to buy you three more time to come up with an escape plan.” He