The Harvest Young- Bound by Love Read online

  “The Ne Reynian battleships are pulling back. They’re retreating. I repeat, they are retreating!”

  “Did they beam up those who invaded the palace?” Hamza barked.

  “Unsure. I can’t raise the palace and can’t get a reading at present.”

  Cheering echoed around Hamza. He hardly noticed the slaps on the back. Why were they retreating? Were the Ne Reynians that afraid of the Onfre? He didn’t believe so, considering most Onfre officers were male, and they all knew how the Ne Reynians felt about males in positions of power.

  He needed to get to the palace and find out what was happening. Hamza caught a flash of white from the corner of his eye. Relieved, he turned to face his dabba. Instead, a bloody and soot covered Keyno stood there.

  Hamza’s heart beat faster.

  “Hamza? I need you to come with me. Now.”

  Chapter Two – Neo

  “STUPID, WAR-MONGERING, batshit crazy females.” Neo darted around hospital personnel, his white lab coat flapping behind him.

  Three of his royal guards kept pace. When he arrived at the ER, a multitude of males rushed about, getting ready for the worst of the wounded from Castron, Lowbrett, and Kiton. Being a hospital in the palatial city had its perks. One being they were the biggest and most advanced. Flip side of that? Well, they got the worst cases. Like now.

  He snagged a fellow doctor by the arm. “Status?”

  “Transporting to start in two unit minutes, Dr. Kere, over there.” The other doctor pointed at a large empty area.

  “Thank you.” Neo moved away from the designated transporter site. His guards took up posts at the rear of the room. Normally he only had one shadowing him, but not today. Not with what was going on. He spared them a glance then promptly forgot them.

  He had a few unit minutes to calm himself and focus his mind. And prepare for the worst. His dad, who’d been a medical doctor on Earth during the last harvest, had taught him how important this was when Neo earned his medical degree.

  His dabba, who had served as Chief Medical Officer under Captain Keyno Shou, had agreed. Was it any wonder then, with both his dad and his dabba in the medical field, Neo became a doctor too? Medicine was his life, and in his opinion, he was a damn fine physician.

  Neo took a deep breath, held it, then released it. The nerves dancing through his body had nothing to do with the horrors coming his way. He’d learned how to appear stoic. Professionally distant even.

  He could don a mask of indifference at a moment’s notice. Such tricks were necessary for him to do his job. He was not only Tah’Narian but also a doctor. And he was a prince since he was mated to Prince Hamza, the only young birthed to the Tah’Narian king, King Duran.

  He took deep breaths—often.

  Sure, there were occasions he fell apart because of tragic events. Even as technologically advanced as they were, awful things happened. Death still came calling, and it wasn’t always the old it claimed. In Hamza’s arms Neo could shed his tears.

  No, his nerves were jangling because their planet was under attack, thus the reason he had three guards instead of the customary one. War had come to Tah’Nar once more. It didn’t help that he hadn’t heard from Hamza since they’d parted. He also worried about Dayo and Szin, who were giving birth.

  A slight buzz lifted the hair on the back of his neck as a series of vertical lines appeared. “Here we go.”

  Numerous medibeds appeared. Doctors rushed forward, medical staff following. The silence was eerie, thanks to the sedation the patients were under. Neo ran to a victim and seized the small tablet at the end of the bed. Quickly he read over it. “Adult hybrid male with human DNA. Age mid-thirties.” Blood streaked the male’s facial features. “Traumatic amputation of left arm—limb not found. Multiple fractures with spinal cord injury. Eye penetration. Abdominal hemorrhage and perforation. Airway epithelial damage. Plasma burns over ninety percent of body. Gods.” He grabbed an attending. “Straight into surgery with him.”

  “Yes, doctor!”

  Neo sprinted from patient to patient. Some he sent directly to the operating room. Others… best he and the medical staff could do was sedate them so they passed pain free. He paused by one such patient—a teen. The medibed’s stats were quickly dropping. There was no saving him. The damage was simply too extensive.

  Neo grasped what was left of the sedated young’s hand. Unable to help himself, Neo leaned closer. “You’re not alone now.” He brushed his fingers through the bloody hair. “It’s okay to just… let go, if you’re ready.” Neo’s voice wavered on the last words. Gods, this poor young. No one should have to go through this. “I’ll be here. Right here.” The youngster’s body relaxed, and he drew a shuddering breath, released it, and then passed on. Pain ripped through Neo, and his knees weakened, threatening to drop him to the floor in a crying heap. The male was only a teen. So young. Too young for his life to be brutally ended.

  Fucking females. He sincerely hoped Hamza blew them out of the skies.

  Time lost meaning as Neo and the other doctors moved from patient to patient. The cloying scent of blood filled his nostrils and stuck to the back of his throat. The ones who weren’t as critical, he did what he could while waiting for a surgeon.

  Another wave of patients transported in, and Neo started the process all over again. He was assessing another male, and treating his injuries, when one of his guards stepped to his side. “My prince?”

  Surprised, he took a moment to respond. At his request, they rarely addressed him by his title. It made him uncomfortable. He was only a prince by mating, not by birth like Hamza. “Yes?”

  The guard lowered his voice. “Three more battleships have dropped out of orbit. I’ve been told that—”

  The scream of a plasma torpedo going past drowned out the rest of the guard’s words. The ground under Neo’s feet shifted. He clutched the medibed to keep from falling over. “What the…?” Too close. That was entirely too fucking close. The hospital’s lights flickered.

  The guard grabbed Neo’s elbow. “Darkkit Palace is under attack.”

  Neo jerked his head up. “What?”

  “The Ne Reynians have attacked the palace.” The guard hesitated. “And the Planetary Defense building.”

  Outside, sirens blared a warning, and the whine of more plasma torpedoes streaking by hurt his ears. Voices in the room raised. “Any word? At all?” Neo demanded. What about Dayo? Szin? Oh gods, both his dad and his dabba were there for the births. All the families were. Hamza. Was Hamza okay? Were any of his loved ones okay?

  The guard ducked his head.

  Around him questions were asked by the doctors, then shouted. Someone screamed, pointing. A flash of light shot across the sky and into a tall office building. His mouth dropped as the upper floors exploded outward. Debris fountained out from the destruction in a volatile arch. The hospital rocked again, and the raised voices turned to frantic yells.

  “By the gods,” Neo whispered, unable to process the horror of what he saw. There were people in that building.

  “Assess the patients we have here, get them moved to another area to make room, and set up triage. I require every available doctor who isn’t already in surgery to get ready. We will have more wounded coming in soon!” a senior doctor yelled.

  Neo thanked the guard, then leaped into action. Moments later, the first cries reached them. Males of all ages staggered in, covered in gore. Limbs were missing. Objects were sticking from their bodies. There were plasma burns. Coughing.

  And choking despair.

  Ambulatory services arrived, carrying more wounded. Screams of pain filled the air. Blood, suffering, and horror were his companions as he and the others worked desperately.

  “Doctor Kere!”

  Neo jerked his head up, even though his hands stayed buried in the chest of another young male.

  “The Royal Physician has requested your presence,” a guard shouted over the cries, moving toward him. “It’s urgent.”

 
Oh gods. No. Please. “Why? What was…?”

  “Now!”

  “Fine, just let me—” Frantically Neo searched for someone to take his place.

  Another doctor ran toward him. “Go. I’ve got this. Go, Neo!”

  Neo pulled his hands out of the young male’s chest, stepped back, and yanked off his gloves, dumping them on the floor. He didn’t even have time to find a fresh lab coat before the guard flipped open his communicator.

  They transported into hell.

  Ash, and what appeared to be shredded scraps of paper, rained down. Black smoke billowed skyward from the twisted support beams. Mangled wires, blowing in the breeze, hung from ceilings.

  Metal and broken concrete lay smoldering on top of nearby flyers, which were burning, adding to the smoke. The scent of burnt plastic, metals, plasma… and overcooked meat left him gagging. Desperately he swallowed, fighting not to lose his meal right there. The smell was atrocious, and the stifling heat wasn’t helping matters.

  Males sat on the ground, staring sightlessly. Some wept. Others screamed. Guards rushed about, calling out orders. Palace doctors sought to treat the survivors. The palace’s red alert blared, adding to the chaos.

  “Good. Gods.” Neo honestly couldn’t understand what he was seeing. It… didn’t compute. Taking a step, he stumbled over something. Grabbing the guard’s arm to steady himself, he tried to see what he tripped over.

  “Oh. Oh, fuck.” A hand. A fucking hand had tripped him. There wasn’t a body attached to it, either. It was an ash covered, mutilated hand with what appeared like charred meat and a bone sticking out.

  The guard next to him heaved.

  In every direction there was blood splatter, body parts, pieces of clothing, and the gods only knew what he was standing in. And ash. There was a lot of ash. It continued to fall from the sky, covering every damn surface. This couldn’t be happening. The palace was the most fortified structure on the whole damn planet, so why was part of it in shambles? What of all the people inside it? What about….

  Neo spun toward the guard and grasped him by his shirt. “My family! My mate! You tell me right fucking now. Are they okay?”

  “There’s been no word from the Planetary Defense building. Transporters work, but communication is spotty. The last transmission said to get you here quickly and that it was urgent. That’s all I know.”

  “Hey!” Another royal guard yelled, waving his arms. “Here. Over here. I’m to escort Prince Neo!”

  A groan caught his attention, and Neo turned. Nearby, someone lay covered in blood. His instinct to aid the wounded kicked in, and he ran to them, dropping to his knees in the filth around him next to a badly broken and bleeding body.

  The guard yanked Neo right back to his feet. “No! There isn’t time. We must go. I can’t stress how urgent that is.”

  There wasn’t time to help someone? He struggled against the guard’s hold. How could he leave the male there? Gods, he couldn’t even tell if he recognized the person since half of his face was melted off. It was just gone. And limbs were blown off. How was he even alive?

  The male gasped, and his mangled body arched off the floor… then he collapsed back.

  “Gods. Gods damn it!” Neo shouted as the male died in front of him.

  It was that moment—surround by unimaginable horror—Neo almost broke. He wanted to cry. To yell. Instead, he had to keep moving, keep going onward toward the next horror. The bright sight of blood against the gray ash on his clothes caught his attention. His stomach roiled. He took a deep breath because he knew there would be more—more blood. More death. More pain. And whatever awaited him was bound to upset him more than this.

  Neo tried to shut out the screams of pain as he was dragged along. “But….” Neo tried to stop but his guard tightened his grip on Neo’s arm. “Just a damn minute! I thought I was needed at the Royal Physician’s office.”

  The male refused to meet Neo’s gaze as they came to a stop by the guard waiting for them. “I said the Royal Physician needed you, not that we were going to the Royal Physician’s office, Prince Neo.”

  “Parts of the palace aren’t safe. Medical and the Royal Physician’s office sustained extensive damage. They are not functionable. The royal family and their friends have been moved to an underground bunker where the Royal Physician has set up a temporary site. Szin and Dayo are there, along with your dad and dabba. I will escort you.”

  Sustained massive damage? But Szin and Dayo were there, giving birth. How is this even happening? “Why didn’t we transport in?”

  “Can’t since we’ve managed to get that area shielded. Just in case.”

  They followed the royal guard for several blocks. The Darkkit Palace was a spiraling complex, thank the gods. Not all of it had sustained damage. They entered the back of the palace and passed through several security checkpoints as they descended even farther underground. Fear lingered in the guards’ faces as Neo passed them.

  An uncomfortable feeling settled in the pit of his stomach as they hurried onward. The royal guard led them to a room in the bunker, which also had numerous males on duty. Grief and anger sat heavy on the air. He could practically taste it.

  As they drew nearer, a pain-filled wail reached their ears. Neo broke into a run, his instinct going into overdrive. It’s bad. It’s really, really bad. Fuck. The guards lowered their heads as he rushed into a rather drab room. He skidded to a halt, the incredibly bright lights hurting his eyes. Blinking frantically, he swiped at his face, smearing who know what across his cheeks, which only made matters worse. A hand holding a scrap of cloth appeared in front of him.

  “Here, Prince Neo.”

  Taking the cloth, he wiped his face. He folded it once he was done, but the soot on it surprised him. Was he covered in ash? Since there wasn’t anything he could do about it, he stuck the cloth in his lab coat pocket. The stench of burned flesh slapped him in the face. Dread washed through him. He knew that scent. He’d smelled it too often in the last unit hour.

  On a medibed in the middle of the room sprawled King Duran, and Neo hurried to his side. His eyes were open, but sightless. A cloudy film already covered them. A dried trail of blood marred the king’s mouth. His body was still, no movement at all. No wonder, since King Duran’s chest was torn apart, the ribs protecting his heart shattered. Even the heart muscle was a mangled mess.

  But the massive wound was cauterized, and only laser pistols would leave behind this kind of damage. His eyes stung, and his nose suddenly burned. He had seen death, especially in the last unit hour, but this? His heart refused to accept what his mind already knew.

  King Duran was dead.

  Neo struggled to get his brain to function as that damn wailing raked across his nerves. That unholy sound came from Jolak, and Neo’s head ached from the high-pitched crying. Jolak knelt next to the bed, holding Duran’s limp hand.

  He took stock of the room. Keyno was there, as well as Hamza. So was Neo’s dabba, Doc. Where were Dale, Chad, Gibor, and his own dad, John? Were they with Szin and Dayo? Were they all being kept somewhere else?

  He started toward Jolak, unsure what he could do, but the grief pouring out of Jolak demanded Neo do something.

  Keyno stepped forward and placed his hand on Neo’s arm. “I know you want to comfort him but wait,” Keyno said. “This is how his people guide a loved one’s spirit to its home in the afterlife.” Keyno jerked his head toward Hamza instead. “Your mate, on the other hand, is close to losing control.”

  Concerned, Neo turned toward Hamza. Hamza leaned against the medibed, staring down at his dabba with clenched fists. He faced Neo, his lips pulled back, exposing the tips of his fangs. His tail whipped madly behind him. Neo’s stomach dropped, even as relief flooded him. Hamza was okay. Well, he was in one piece, at least physically. But mentally? The devastation and wild anger on Hamza’s face terrified Neo. He’d never seen such unadulterated hatred.

  “Hamza?” Neo hurried around the medibed to Hamza’s side.
But once he was there, he didn’t know what to do. The vibe surrounding Hamza screamed not to touch. His body was bulked up in a dominance display too.

  Gently, Neo rested his hand on Hamza’s back, and Hamza flinched. A menacing hiss escaped him, but Neo didn’t move away. Hamza would never hurt him. He knew that, but Keyno was right. Hamza was on the edge of losing control.

  He wasn’t sure Hamza even knew where he was or who was with him right then.

  Chapter Three – Hamza

  HAMZA’S HEAD pounded. Or was it his heart echoing in his ears? Jolak’s wail sliced across his nerves. He wanted to yank his dabba off that damn thing and demand he open his eyes. To get up. Hamza clenched his fists, and something popped. The urge to rip and tear, to snarl and hiss, was overpowering. The anger rose higher. He struggled to breathe, and his vision wavered. In the background, Jolak continued to mourn, and the sound stabbed at Hamza.

  Gods help him, he couldn’t do this.

  A memory flashed through his head—of him and his dabba, climbing trees. Of laughter drifting on the warm breeze. His atat, the name for dad in Jolak’s native language, peered up at them, shaking his head. Leaves tumbled in a graceful dance as Hamza slinked through the branches, stalking prey from up high.

  Determined to get it right, Hamza once more prowled gingerly along a branch, and this time nothing fell. “Like this, Dabba?”

  “Yes. Well done, my young. Be silent and move gently as you stalk. You have the advantage since prey rarely thinks to look for attack from above, but always remember what is around you. Falling leaves will give away your advantage.”

  His dabba leaped from the tree, landing in a crouch. Standing, he stalked toward his mate, who grinned from ear to ear. His atat chuckled, then turned and ran.

  Dabba huffed, hands on his hips.

  Hamza snickered. No one could catch his atat. The male was as fast as the wind. It was a trait of his people. “You took too long, Dabba,” Hamza shouted from the tree.

  “Indeed, my young. But that’s okay. I know where to find your atat.”