Magnolia finally made it back to her quarters, her boots heavy against the living metal of the floor. The ship pulsed faintly beneath her feet, a soft hum of awareness she had long grown accustomed to. Everything was in its place—orders delivered, sorted, and stored. The bonsai fruit trees now thrived in the hydroponic alcove, their bioluminescent leaves casting a faint glow, while the barnyard animals were quietly settling into their new homes within the ship’s biome chamber.

She exhaled, relieved to be alone. The day had been relentless, and all she wanted now was a real shower—hot water cascading over her, rinsing away the grit and tension that a sonic clean couldn’t touch.

Kneeling to undo the strap of her boot, she froze as a shadow moved at the edge of her vision. Before she could react, a young man appeared at her feet. His movements were fluid, almost mechanical, as he knelt and began unfastening the strap of her boot with practiced ease.

Magnolia blinked, caught off guard by the sudden presence of her father’s Pets in her quarters. The young man kneeling before her worked quickly, his slender, elongated fingers deftly loosening the strap of her boot without a word or glance upward. His skin shimmered faintly under the dim light, an iridescent hue that shifted between blue and gold. Magnolia’s confusion quickly gave way to unease as she swept her gaze over the group.

Eight Pets stood before her, each behind a large, ornate crate. They were as she remembered—eerily perfect, their forms shaped by genetic tailoring and decades of selective breeding. Their features were otherworldly: luminous eyes in hues no natural species possessed, elongated limbs that gave them a graceful, almost unnatural elegance, and faint bioluminescent patterns etched along their skin that pulsed softly with their steady heartbeats.

They stood perfectly still, their movements minimal, almost mechanical, as they folded their hands in front of them. Their heads were tilted slightly downward, necks arched with practiced precision. Bred for obedience and beauty, *Pets* weren’t considered individuals in Tova society. They were designed to be flawless accessories, as much a status symbol as any jewel-encrusted artifact.

But why were they in her quarters?

The young man undid her boot and glanced up briefly, his luminous eyes catching hers. They glowed faintly in the dim room, reflecting an unsettling serenity. Magnolia took a step back, pulling her foot from his grasp. “What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice sharp and filled with a sudden tension.

The Pets exchanged silent glances, their expressions serene but unsettlingly blank, as though the concept of speaking out of turn was foreign to them. Finally, a tall woman stepped forward. Her translucent hair seemed to flow like liquid moonlight, and faint gills fluttered at her neck as she spoke in a melodic, almost hypnotic tone. “Lord Tova instructed us to deliver these crates to your quarters, mistress.”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Magnolia’s stomach sank. Of course, this was her father’s doing. She should have expected something like this—a quiet, calculated move to impose his presence, delivered in a way that made refusal seem impossible.

“I didn’t ask for this,” Magnolia said, her voice tense as she crossed her arms tightly. “And I certainly didn’t ask for you.”

The woman tilted her head slightly, the bioluminescent patterns along her cheeks flickering faintly, as if trying to process something that didn’t align with her conditioning. “We are a gift, mistress. Lord Tova said you would know what to do with us. We are yours now.”

Magnolia’s breath hitched. The words struck her like a blow, the weight of their meaning sinking in. Her gaze shifted to the crates—polished metal adorned with the Tova crest and humming faintly with embedded security mechanisms. Whatever was inside them was just as much a bribe as the Pets themselves.

She turned away, pacing a few steps before spinning back. “You’re not my responsibility,” she said firmly, though a crack of uncertainty bled into her tone. “Take the crates and go back to him. Tell him I don’t want any of it.”

Another *Pet* stepped forward—a lithe figure with skin that glowed faintly like starlight. His voice was calm but resonated unnaturally, like two tones speaking in harmony. “Forgive me, mistress, but we cannot. Lord Tova ordered us to remain in your service. If we return, it would reflect poorly on us… and on him.”

Magnolia froze, the words echoing in her mind. She knew what that meant. Returning a gift from Lord Tova wasn’t an option—not for the Pets. Refusing them outright might save her pride, but it wouldn’t save them.

She sighed, dragging a hand through her hair as frustration and guilt warred within her. These weren’t just gifts—they were living beings, conditioned to serve, to see their roles as immutable truths. They were here because they had no choice.

“Fine,” she said finally, her tone weary. “Stay. But don’t touch anything, and don’t unpack those crates until I figure out what to do with them—or with you.”

The Pets inclined their heads in unison, their movements eerily synchronized. Magnolia turned away again, heading toward her bathroom with tense shoulders. The shower she’d been looking forward to felt like a distant dream now.

She paused at the door, glancing back. The Pets were already moving, their glowing forms sliding soundlessly across the floor as they began arranging the crates along the wall with unnerving efficiency. Her chest tightened as she watched them, the weight of their presence settling heavily on her.

“This isn’t over,” she muttered, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind her with a firm click.