Far beyond the ruined ashes of Earth, where shattered satellites drifted like broken bones through space, a lone alien ship crossed the stars in silence.
Inside the vessel, in a chamber filled with soft blue light, Adrian sat curled beneath a silver blanket, staring out at the endless dark beyond the glass.
As all many human died and many has taken for experiment or pet and there was a human name adrian..
And he belonged to someone.
The door slid open with a low mechanical hum.
Commander Zevran entered—a tall alien with luminous violet eyes, dark obsidian skin marked by faint glowing patterns, and an expression unreadable to anyone except Adrian.
In his long hands, he carried a tray: warm food, fresh water, and a strange glowing flower Adrian had once said reminded him of Earth lilies.
“You have not eaten,” Zevran said in his smooth, echoing voice.
Adrian looked away. “I’m not hungry.”
Zevran set the tray beside him anyway, then knelt to Adrian’s level—a gesture no supreme commander of his species would ever make for another being.
But Adrian was different.
When Earth collapsed beneath firestorms and invasion fleets, Zevran had found him alone among the ruins: frightened, injured, yet still trying to protect a child who had already died in his arms.
Humans fascinated Zevran.
Adrian haunted him.
So he had taken him aboard.
At first, Adrian believed he was only a specimen—an exotic survivor preserved as a curiosity.
But months passed, and Zevran never treated him like an object.
He learned Adrian’s language. Memorized his sleep patterns. Adjusted the ship’s temperature to human comfort. Destroyed an entire black-market station when smugglers suggested buying Adrian from him.
“You cannot keep calling me your pet,” Adrian muttered bitterly.
Zevran tilted his head. “Among my people, the word means cherished life-bound companion.”
“That’s not what pet means to humans.”
A pause.
“Then teach me the correct word.”
Adrian finally looked at him.
In Zevran’s alien face there was no cruelty—only devotion so intense it frightened him more than hatred ever could.
Outside the ship, stars burned cold and distant.
Inside, Zevran gently reached out and brushed one clawed finger through Adrian’s hair with impossible tenderness.
“My beloved,” the alien said quietly, testing the unfamiliar human phrase. “Is that better?”
Adrian’s breath caught.
Earth was gone. Humanity was nearly extinct. And in all the endless galaxy, the most dangerous being Adrian had ever known looked at him as though he were the last precious thing in existence.
Perhaps, Adrian thought, he was.
