Breathe with Me Read online

  Also available from Lily X

  and Carina Press

  New World Series

  Stay with Me

  Made for Me

  Own Me

  Breathe with Me

  Safe with Me

  Seventh Star Series (F/F Omegaverse)

  Let Me Be Yours

  Never Yours

  I’m Yours

  Forever Yours

  Truly Yours

  Breathe with Me

  Lily X

  This book hits a little too close to home. To all the brown queerbies who struggle with being themselves in a traditional family—

  I see you. I feel you.

  I am you.

  This book is for anyone who hides the best part of themselves with people they love the most.

  Welcome to the New World! I promise the long journey was worth it.

  Let’s get you registered. Which type of mod did you get to help you acclimatize to our environment?

  My, my. Invisible, huh? We’ll refer to you as nonmod, since your modifications don’t have any physical alterations. That would’ve set you back a pretty penny, though. Which Star are you heading toward?

  Royal One, of course. The urban heart of our cluster of Stars. You’ll fit right in!

  If you have a minute, perhaps I could introduce you to some of the other modded groups in our New World? They’re fascinating!

  Fanger Hybrid

  In the modded hybrid family, Fangers are the most common. Among all the genetic modifications available today, this was the first affordable option offered to the people of Earth to allow the human body to adapt to the New World.

  This group is characterized by their sharp incisors, heightened senses and ability to bond with their Mates through blood sharing. As the largest group of hybrids in the cluster, they have developed specific rituals for mating and finding their Blood Mates.

  Beast Hybrid

  Beast hybrids are renowned for their enhanced senses. They have admirable scenting abilities and a keen sense of hearing.

  Their mods are characterized by two curling ram’s horns on both of their temples, each with its own unique markings, equivalent to fingerprints.

  It is widely understood that Beast hybrids generally have surly attitudes due to the sensory overloads of everyday life.

  Felin Hybrid

  Felins are a dying race in the cluster, and some have adopted clan-like behavior to ensure the continuity of their kind. The Felin gene is a recessive one, meaning that in Beast, Fanger or nonmod pairings, the offspring will show no or few Felin traits.

  They are characterized by pointed ears, long, flowing tails, small incisors and diamond-shaped slits along their noses for enhanced scenting.

  As a group, they are known for being skittish and territorial.

  The New World

  A group of eight planets set in the Cancer Cluster, a two-week journey from Old Earth. Each planet has its own unique ecosystem and history and backstory.

  In the third book, we get a glimpse of Royal One, where elite urbanites thrive in the top tier of society while others rise and grind to make a decent living. Royal One was the first planet to be colonized by Old Earth over three centuries ago.

  As the largest Star in the cluster, Royal One is characterized by towering skyscrapers and urbanites with an eccentric sense of style.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  About the Author

  Excerpt from New World: Safe With Me by Lily X

  Chapter One

  Aster

  The wheels of the bopper screeched loudly in the dark as it hit the pavement. I winced, fingers gripping the navi stick until my knuckles turned white. Several heads turned in my direction, trying to see past the tint on my windows as I pulled the vehicle into the docking space. But I knew they wouldn’t be able to get a glimpse of the slightly sweaty figure behind the stick.

  I waited for the street to clear before stepping out, wrapping my black tailcoat around me like a comforting blanket. Glancing quickly in the reflective glass, I tucked away the strand of blonde hair I knew would be sticking out of place and tugged the burgundy vest down tightly over my waist.

  Presentable, I heard my late father’s voice in my head. A lady always presents her best self to a new client.

  At the memory of his voice, my fingers sought the gold pocket watch tethered to my vest, closing over its familiar curves. I breathed deep, straightening my shoulders a little, forcing one foot forward.

  The click of my narrow-toed boots echoed on the pavement as the shoddy two-story building loomed before me.

  Peers Decontamination Facility & Shelter.

  Tucked away on the edge of the Capital Grove district, the facility acted as a catchall for those who sought refuge from Old Earth. These days, it was brimming with new occupants, which presented a unique opportunity for my business.

  The security guard at the gated entrance barely looked up as I approached.

  “Yes?” he grunted, staring into his e-reader.

  I introduced myself, “Aster Weave, antiques dealer.”

  “What?” he fairly shouted in my face. “Speak up. Can’t hear ya.”

  Things were already too loud around me, the street noises swirling in their crushing whirlwind. I itched for the familiarity of my shop—the silent whirr of the electric fireplace and the smell of old wood and books.

  You’re all right. Everything’s fine. Just ten minutes and you can go home.

  Mutely, I tapped my chrono ring—the one periodical anomaly about my outfit—to his e-reader, transferring a small number of credits so I wouldn’t need to speak to him.

  He finally looked up at me, gaze raking down my unusual attire, and grunted, “Whatchu here for?”

  “I’m picking up a box of antiques from someone—a Riley Mahem.”

  “Don’t know her. Must be one of ’em refugees.”

  The gate creaked open just enough to let me in.

  “Don’t take too long,” he warned, turning back to his tablet.

  My throat was parched as I stepped through the gate, boots clipping on the stone path.

  There was a large being standing by the front door of the building, smoking some type of tobacco. The scent hit my nose like a wave of nostalgia as I recalled Pa sneaking a hit of his pipe whenever Father left the house for an errand.

  Ah, simpler times.

  “Riley Mahem?”

  A plume of smoke rose to the sky.

  “No.”

  The figure moved, and I was surprised to find it was a woman, rigidly muscled and surprisingly broad. Although we stood eye to eye, a pang of envy moved through me as I looked down at my own lean, slender frame.

  “But I know her,” the figure continued. “Who might you be?”

  I introduced myself again, fingers idly rubbing the pocket watch.

  The figure paused and a look of recognition came across her face. “Oh yeah, Riley said somethin’ about sellin’ that old trunk of hers. Wait right here.”

  I slid my hands into my pants pockets, moving to a darker corner of the building.


  Minutes later, I heard a few grumbles and someone yelling “Careful!” before the muscled figure from before emerged with a slight woman in a hooded coat.

  “Riley Mahem?” I stepped out of the shadows and the woman jumped several feet in the air.

  “Jesus Christ, why would you sneak up on someone like that?”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to say that I hadn’t been sneaking around. In fact, I had cordially announced my arrival to a third party beforehand, so she should have been expecting my presence here.

  Instead, I said, “My apologies, madam. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  Her delicate hand was still clutched to her chest, and her features were slightly hidden under the thick cotton of her hood. “I take it you’re the dealer?”

  “Yes, Aster Weave.”

  I held my hand out and she shook it slowly, her dark eyes regarding me curiously under the shadows of the yellow outdoor light.

  “Riley,” she said, extracting a key from her pocket. “And this here’s Havi.”

  Ms. Havi raised an arm in greeting and I nodded in return.

  “It’s good to meet you both. Now, may I see the items you wish to sell?”

  Ms. Mahem knelt in front of the chest and felt around for the keyhole. Behind her, Ms. Havi’s eyes met mine and I hastened to look away.

  “Why do you talk like that, man?” she asked, brows raised.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You know...all proper and shit. Like you’re from many centuries ago or somethin’.”

  “Oh.” I tugged at the hem of my tailored vest. “My fathers were Victorian enthusiasts, and they raised me to speak this way.”

  “Neat. Is that why you like all this old stuff?” she asked as Ms. Mahem opened the trunk with a little effort.

  “Indeed. Every bit of our past is the treasure of our future.”

  “Huh. That’s deep. Guess I never thought of it that way.”

  My breath caught as Ms. Mahem unearthed her treasures, although I tried my best to school my features.

  Other than the time I spent restoring antiques in my shop, this was my favorite part of the job. The click of the old lock, the snick of the key turning in its assigned keyhole, the creak of the hinges as the trunk opened... My palms itched and my shoulders tightened, bracing for what was within.

  “This used to belong to my great-aunt Fatimah. She was an heiress, but, um, this is all that’s left of her fortune,” Ms. Riley said, handing me the first item.

  Leather.

  Pure leather, from the smell of it. A mix of cowhide and alligator.

  I withdrew a pair of thin gloves from my pocket, sliding them on as quickly as I could before gently raising the large purse in the air.

  The leather was silky and supple from use, and I marveled at the buttery feel under my gloved fingers. This was most definitely top-grain leather, if the rich patina was any indication—a true gem that needed a little extra care.

  The label was worn so I wouldn’t be able to tell the manufacturer without inspecting the piece a little more. But even without the origin details, the vintage leather itself would sell quickly to any collector I knew.

  I mentally attached a price tag to it.

  “This coat has been in our family for generations,” Ms. Mahem continued, waving a bundle of dark fur in my face.

  I reached out to grab it with one hand while clutching the leather purse in the other.

  “Here,” Ms. Havi said, stretching out her hand protectively. “I’ll hold that for ya.”

  I placed the purse in her hands gratefully, relieved when I noted she handled the vintage piece with care, despite her overly large muscles.

  The fur was dusty and old, but my fingers immediately sank into its feathery softness. I’d only encountered one other fur in my day—a mink, black as sin. This collector’s piece, however, seemed to have a dual tone, kind of gray fur speckled amongst the black.

  I recalled my studies with Father, trying to remember the names of these outdated garments.

  Could this be the elusive chinchilla coat?

  I needed some time with a template to confirm it, but if so, its price tag would be astronomical.

  “If you wouldn’t mind, would you...” I trailed off as Ms. Havi reached for the coat. “Thank you so much.”

  I thought I saw an amused smirk on her face.

  There was a bundle of other mismatched items. A signed movie poster, a box of old watches that had seen much better days, a handwoven silk throw... And an old dome-shaped mirror outlined in gold with a jewel encrusted on its frame. I knelt low, letting the moonlight shine on the glittering gem, transfixed by its uniqueness.

  “Do you know what stone this is?” I asked, brushing the swirling gold and red colors with my gloved fingers.

  Ms. Riley shrugged. “My great-aunt favored garnets—could this be one?”

  I was already shaking my head. “Yellow garnets have a brilliant shine, somewhat like a diamond. But this... This is something else. I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

  “So you don’t know what it’s worth?”

  “Not yet, but I will soon enough.” It was one of Father’s practiced sayings when he wasn’t sure of an item’s value.

  I placed the items carefully back into the box.

  “Ms. Mahem, there are two ways we could do this. I could offer you credits up front for all the items you’ve shown me, but the amount would probably be lower than what you’re expecting. Or you could consign the items with me, and I will give you a certain percentage of the sale price. But this would take time—I would not be able to advise how long at this moment.”

  She looked down at the box hesitantly.

  “You do not have to decide straight away. I would be happy to come back another time. Perhaps during the day.”

  “No,” she said quickly, biting her lip. “We need the money—err, credits, as you say. We’re allowed to leave the decon facility tomorrow and we’d like to start a new life right away.”

  “All right. Tell me—how much would you need for that to happen? I will see what I can do.”

  She rattled off a sum that was perfectly modest enough for a small studio and expenses for at least six months but it was more than I could offer her at the moment, especially as I didn’t know the true value of the fur coat and the mirror.

  So I amended my offer.

  “I can offer you half that amount for everything except the fur coat and mirror. I need to examine these items before I can give you the other half. If they are genuine, I would have no trouble meeting that price.”

  “But they are genuine...”

  “Be that as it may, I need to conduct my due diligence, both for my reputation’s sake and my buyers’ continuing trust.”

  “Right.”

  Ms. Mahem looked unsure, fingers interweaving anxiously.

  “Like I said, Miss, please take your time to think about this. I will leave you my card.”

  I extracted a slim bioplastic card engraved with my details.

  She took it, reading the words as Ms. Havi peered over her shoulder.

  I knelt again, running my fingers over the dome-topped wooden trunk, interlaced with leather straps. It was in rough shape, but I believed I could restore it. It would never reach its former glory, but it would make a fine specimen for the right collector.

  “I would like this trunk, too, if you’re interested in selling it.”

  “Yes...all right.”

  I stood, stripping the gloves off my hands.

  “You have very fine items, Ms. Mahem. I would be happy to purchase them from you when you are ready.”

  I gave them a curt bow, boots clipping on the stone path as I made my way back to the front gates.

  “Wait!”

  Ms. Mahem’s voice c
arried across the empty courtyard. I turned, pocket watch in hand.

  “I’ll take eighty percent of what I asked for if you buy all of this from me today. The trunk’s free.”

  I paused. Eighty percent was a good price. Even if the fur coat and mirror turned out to be fakes, I’d still make a decent profit off the leather purse and everything else in the trunk.

  Always haggle, Aster. Never settle quickly.

  Father’s voice cut across my internal agreement to eighty percent.

  But I shushed him. This was a refugee woman who needed the credits. Not a rich seller parting with luxury items they didn’t need.

  I stepped forward, extracting a billfold. The bioplastic credits shone brightly under the moonlight as I counted the amount.

  “Thank you.” There were tears swimming in Ms. Mahem’s eyes as she looked at the credits.

  “I wish you well.”

  I eyed the large trunk for a minute, wondering how I was going to transport it to the bopper.

  Before I could even attempt a struggle with the cumbersome cargo, Ms. Havi interjected. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this. Did you drive here?”

  I was struck by the Old Earth term “drive”—a reminder that these people had only recently landed on my world.

  “Yes, or I flew here, rather. My bopper is docked a little ways past the front gates.”

  “Hmm. Well, I’d suggest you bring the bopper over to the gates because I’m technically not allowed out of this place after ten p.m. Maybe if you back it all the way up, I can place the trunk inside from this side of the gate.”

  “That sounds like a fine idea. If you’ll just give me a minute.”

  I tugged my coat firmly around my waist as I made my way back to the bopper. The guard didn’t even look up as I left the front gate wide open behind me.

  Slowly, I reversed the bopper until the back of it just about kissed the open gate.

  “What in hell do you think you’re doing?” the guard blustered, finally taking notice.

  “She’s taking this.”

  I heard a muffled rumble of effort and then the bopper dipped low in the back under the extra weight.

  “All clear.” Ms. Havi tapped the side of the vehicle. “You’re good to go.”