Zayn

by A. R. Ford

  There was no time to argue. The hovercraft turned right onto a busy street filled with shops and other businesses. It came to a halt in a parking zone in front of a nondescript shop. The security crew that accompanied us everywhere we went outside the palace tagged along. Once the business was cleared, we were allowed to enter.

  A bell tinkled when Zanzi opened the door. A tall, slender female alien, unlike any Lonusians I knew, stood near a dress form.

  “Dalaakian,” Zanzi murmured as if sensing my confusion.

  Ah, that explained it. The Dalaakians were skilled craftsmen prized for their high degree of dexterity. Three long, slender fingers on each hand provided their ability to construct, or manipulate objects with ease. The Dalaakian female’s head was large and elongated. Tear-drop shaped eyes observed us as we approached. Dalaakians had no ears, just a single hole in each side of their head where ears should be. She had no hair, not even eyebrows. Her smooth, light gray skin gleamed as if recently massaged with oil.

  “Eilphe, this is Gracie. Your warlord requests an entire wardrobe be created for her. No expense is to be spared.” Zanzi handed Eilphe a neatly printed list of items. “The first dozen items will be required within the next few weeks. The others a month afterwards. He is in a hurry, you understand?”

  “I always understand,” the alien named Eilphe purred. Her voice was smooth, nearly mechanical in quality. Certain consonants were enunciated with clicks. Certain vowels were enunciated with a purring quality. It was unsettling, but not nearly as much as the full inspection of Eilphe’s solid black eyes. “And you must be the mate. Rumor has it you have stolen his heart already.”

  I recoiled slightly at the grasp of the three-fingered hand when the seamstress seized mine. “Pleasure to meet you.” Meeting this creature gave me no pleasure, but I felt the need to reply appropriately given Zayn selected this seamstress specifically for me. Something about Eilphe felt wrong.

  “This way, darling. I will need to take measurements, and obtain your preference on materials and colors.” Eilphe swayed as she walked. The full-length gray shift dress clung to her slender body. She reminded me of a cobra poised to strike.

  “I will wait here,” Zanzi informed me. “I have a few important messages to respond to.”

  Great. That left me alone in the grasp of the cobra alien who I knew innately not to trust. A curtain pulled across the cubicle-sized area where the dress dummy stood provided privacy.

  “You will need to disrobe. Accurate measurements are necessary for the highest quality garments.”

  I removed the dress and stood shivering as Eilphe proceeded. She scribbled notes on a pad of paper on a nearby table. Each touch of her fingers on my skin made me grimace.

  Eilphe held my dress in one hand. Her strange, black eyes examined me from head to toe. No expression flickered in those eyes, or face. I knew the cobra was ready to strike before it did.

  “You know Zayn has searched for a mate for years. The last few females died after genetic manipulation failed.” She purred the words. “He only needs an heir, darling. Once he has that, he will be done with you.”

  I snatched the dress from her hand. Once I was properly clothed, I opened the curtain, and thought better of running from this thing who only wanted to cause problems. My fingers caressed the gold bracelet. Eilphe’s eyes snapped to the jewelry and narrowed. “If he is so ready to be done with me, why would he give me this, Eilphe?”

  “It means nothing,” she hissed.

  “It meant everything to him last night when he mated with me until I passed out from exhaustion. Orgasms with Zayn are mind boggling. But you wouldn’t know that, would you?” I turned to go with my head held high. I became the cobra ready to strike. And I did. “Do they sell sex toys on Lonus? If so, you should get one, darling. An orgasm would do you some good.”

  “You have no idea what you are talking about!” Her voice degenerated into a strangled series of clicks and whirs.

  “Yep, I do. A bitch on any planet is still a bitch. And you, my dear, are the very image of the word. And, another thing,” I gave her the once over with a smirk. “If the clothing isn’t to my liking, I will remind Zayn to withhold payment until I personally approve each piece.”

  Eilphe’s intake of air was the only reaction she gave.

  Zanzi caught my arm when I appeared in the front of the shop. “Is everything alright, dear?”

  “Perfectly fine,” I smiled reassuringly at Zanzi. “I wanted to ensure Eilphe knew my preferences on the construction of the garments. Nothing to worry about.”

  There really was nothing to worry about. One threat knew where I stood, and that I wouldn’t back down, or cower in front of her. Perhaps my warlord’s fierce battle instincts were rubbing off on me.

  When the first items from the new wardrobe arrived, a card and bouquet of flowers came with it. There, in intergalactic common, was Eilphe’s apology for overstepping her boundaries. I kept the card in the event she ever thought to threaten me again.

  *****

  Nearly four months passed in a blur of activity. I came to learn some of Zayn’s duties as ruler of Lonus N88. Each day he met with key staff members to obtain reports on various aspects of the world. If I happened by his private study, he always sat at the desk, brows furrowed as he pondered challenges facing his people. Zayn ate every meal with me regardless of the fact the daily operations of the government required much of his attention. Each night passed wrapped in his warm embrace.

  Zanzi introduced me to the world of Lonus N88. Under her wing, I gained an understanding of the nuances of Lonusian culture. It was during one of our conversations in the royal garden I learned more details of my mate’s life as heir to the throne.

  “Zayn began learning the intricacies of ruling the moment he came into this world,” Zanzi mused as we walked through the royal garden. “King Vanzets, his father, ensured Zayn’s preparation was thorough. He has passed through many trials and tribulations to hold the throne.”

  “I cannot imagine the things he has had to learn to rule a world of Lonus’s size.” We paused near the fountain in the center of the garden. The square structure brought a sense of peace. I wondered if the feeling came from the massive replica of the castle in its center, combined with trickling water. “He has never had a romantic relationship? I mean, someone to support him as I do.”

  “Only once. It changed the carefree young man I knew then. He was betrothed to Tilqis, a young woman from another family with political power in the northern hemisphere. Her family promised the young woman could provide the required heir.” Zanzi paused, her eyes surveying my face for a few seconds. She took a seat on the rim of the fountain. “Come sit with me, Gracie. It is important that you know what I must tell you.”

  “Now you have me worried.” The sudden change in Zanzi’s demeanor brought a thrill of fear dancing through my gut.

  “Sit with me.” Zanzi continued only after I joined her. She took my hand between hers. The reassuring grasp of her hands did little to ease my worry. “It was all a lie manufactured to seize control of Lonus. Tilqis jilted Zayn when he learned of her family’s treachery. She ran off to Hathea A95. Zayn learned before the ceremony that she married their ruler, Morki. Now Lonus N88’s sworn enemy.”

  “That’s horrible!” My heart broke to think of Zayn in the days following the incident. “How did Zayn recover from that?”

  “He nearly died when he left the study to notify his parents the ceremony was called off. An assassin waited. The scar in the center of his back marks how close the assassin’s blade came to ending his life. Something changed inside Zayn after that. He went into the world determined to prove he was worthy of the throne. The scars you see upon his body are marks of that time.”

  I remembered the scar. One night as we lay in bed, my fingers traced along the smooth ridge. Zayn changed the subject when I asked what caused such a blemish on his otherwise perfect body.

  My gut tossed at the thought. Thoughts of Zayn
being hurt in any way brought a sense of unease. “But he is okay now, isn’t he?”

  Zanzi released my hands, smiled, and embraced me. “As much as he can be, Gracie. He sometimes does not react as others would. He is more volatile now. And, once in a while, those old demons come back to haunt him.” She stood up after glancing at the mini COMM strapped to her wrist. “I must go now. I have an important meeting to attend. Until we meet again.”

  I gave the conversation little thought afterwards. Zayn’s usual good mood seemed a permanent fixture. If the incident all those years ago changed him in a negative way, his behavior gave no indicator.

  My body acclimated to Lonus in a positive way. I rarely worried about the procedure I underwent upon my arrival. Genetic modification of the sort conducted on me had several surprising outcomes. One of those was the ability to accept Zayn’s impressive organ without serious damage. The other was the disappearance of my monthly cycles. I sought out Dr. Ohnasi to ensure the change was normal, and would not interfere with the estrus Zayn hoped would arrive soon.

  “Let me conduct a few tests,” he announced. “Just have a seat on the exam table.”

  I waited patiently as he poked and prodded before he listened to my lungs and heart. Afterwards, he collected urine and blood samples.

  “I will drop by later to let you know the results,” he assured. “You are the first human female to successfully undergo the procedure. All of this is new to us.”

  Hours later, Dr. Ohnasi appeared in our quarters.

  “Do you have news for us?” Zayn asked as he stood by the doctor’s side.

  “Yes,” the doctor murmured. “Your mate is pregnant.”

  Joy erupted within me. Zayn would have his heir. The people of Lonus would be protected from nefarious threats. And I would experience the joys of motherhood, and of having Zayn as my mate.

  At least that’s what I thought.

  Everything changed in an instant. My joy was overshadowed by Zayn’s fury.

  Zayn’s usually loving expression disappeared into one of rage. His eyes narrowed into mere slits when he turned to stare at me. A muscle twitched in his clenched jaw.

  “Who is he?” he roared. “What bastard on earth have you dallied with before presenting yourself as pure as the driven snow?” His hands caught my arms, fingers digging in cruelly.

  “No! I have only been with you.” The words came in a frantic cry, thick with tears.

  He refused to listen. “You have not had an estrus. How is pregnancy possible, my traitorous mate?” His voice held the acidic tone of disgust.

  His reaction was evidence enough of Zanzi’s revelation that demons of the past returned to haunt him. My heart was crushed by the turn of events. How could he confuse me with Tilqis?

  “We can determine paternity with an advanced amniocentesis procedure,” Dr. Ohnasi interjected. He pushed his way between Zayn and me. “She can return to the clinic with me. The results should be available by morning.”

  Zayn turned away. “Keep her there. I will deal with her treachery when the test results are ready.”

  “But I did not do anything wrong!” I shrieked. He had to listen to me, to hear the truth.

  “Take the whore, and go.” His voice left no room for argument.

  I could not fathom when things changed. What event spurred his rage? Surely not the pregnancy he so desperately hoped for.

  “Yes, sir.” The doctor dared not protest.

  Tears clouded my vision. Dr. Ohnasi’s hand on my back guided me to the door.

  The remainder of the journey to the clinic passed in a blur. Dr. Ohnasi’s staff prepped me for the procedure. My belly was painted with antiseptic. A strange instrument placed against my belly produced an image of the baby on a screen. Advanced technology made the image crystal clear. Every hair on his head was visible. Five fingers, and five toes. Even the faint outline of capillaries beneath his nearly translucent skin appeared.

  Instead of being filled with the wonder of it all, my heart was numb. Zayn thought I was a whore, that the baby in my womb belonged to an earthling. I cared little about what happened after the ugly scene. In his eyes I would always be a liar; a criminal who could not be trusted. The pain was so intense tears refused to fall.

  There was only one thing I could do. The needle pierced my womb without warning to withdraw the required sample. It meant nothing to Zayn that the procedure could result in miscarriage. He demanded evidence without giving credence to my professed faithfulness. Dr. Ohnasi comforted me afterwards. My thoughts turned to my best friend, the woman I knew would have held and comforted me until the last tear was spent. But she was not here on this cold, alien planet. I pretended to sleep until morning.

  Clad in blue scrubs, I walked into the streets of the capital city, alone for the first time. Passersby provided directions to my destination. If anything, the people of this world were polite and helpful. None of them needed to know the reasons why I sought the reassignment center. My broken heart held the truth.

  I entered the center nearly an hour after embarking on my final journey on Lonus. The clerk scanned my palm print. “Gracie Thomson?”

  “Yes.”

  “What is the nature of your business today?” The clerk’s fingers tapped information into the COMM unit.

  “My assignment is unsatisfactory. I choose termination.”

  The words had scarcely passed my lips when the Dalaakian clerk stopped typing. I suppose it was not every day someone presented with that request. Not that it mattered. I was determined to terminate—one way, or the other.

  “Oh, dear. It’s that bad, hmm?” The clerk glanced at me over the COMM screen. “Let me consult my supervisor. If you will have a seat over there, I will be right back.”

  The center was deserted. Plenty of room remained on the bench. Others, if there were any others, were content with their assignment. I was the only broken soul who regretted ever coming to Lonus N88. I sat briefly before pacing the floor. The clerk stood talking to not one, but two, uniformed officials. They gazed at me for a second or two with pity evident in their eyes before whispering amongst themselves.

  One of the officials called me into an office. “Gracie Thomson?”

  “That’s me.” I hoped this meant my request had been processed.

  “You desire termination instead of assignment on Lonus N88. Our records show you were selected as Warlord Bolden’s mate. That is an impressive circumstance. I am not certain I understand why you want reassignment. Is there a reason for your request?” Just like the clerk, he tapped information into the COMM unit.

  “One isn’t needed. I am familiar with intergalactic law. I would like to get this over with now, if you don’t mind.” My voice was as flat and lifeless as my heart. The heart that once swelled with love for Zayn.

  “Mkay,” he muttered before turning his attention to the screen once again. “Well, we need to place you in a holding cell, and process the appropriate paperwork. I am certain you understand the government’s love for paperwork.”

  “Not really.”

  The official blinked at me. He frowned and sighed before standing up. “Right this way.”

  An official hand at my elbow showed me the way to the holding cell. I stepped inside and sat on the cot. This, I was familiar with. No emotional turmoil. No people who hated me for no good reason. It was just a metal box with a lumpy cot, commode, and sink. A nice place to think about all my failures before the termination’s scheduled time arrived.

  “How long until I go?” The question was important to me. It made the official grimace and frown like he had passed gas in church.

  “It will not be long. Things are in motion as we speak.”

  And with that, the official walked out, and shut the door. The key in the lock turned, effectively locking me away until the time arrived.

  I could not wait to get it over with. At least death would end the nightmare.

  Chapter 8: Zayn

  How could she? Come to my
planet carrying a human’s child, and expect I would believe my child grew within her womb. Her betrayal bit deep.

  My father’s advice years ago rang in my head. Never trust a woman who is easily courted. But was it true? Not once had Dr. Ohnasi mentioned she was pregnant. Even with extensive medical testing and evaluation, that fact never reared its ugly head.

  But, now, he said she was pregnant, carrying the heir I so desperately needed to ensure my uncontested claim to the throne. I raged. I roared. I threw ugly names and insults in her direction. The look on her face said it all. She was broken by my actions.

  I refused to believe it. Gracie was nothing more than a first-class actress, and charlatan.

  Now, the doctor stood in front of me, a slip of paper clutched in one hand. He hesitated before handing the paper to me. My eyes fell on the printed results.

  99.9% likelihood Warlord Zayn Bolden is the father.

  My rage at what I thought was Gracie’s betrayal disappeared the instant I saw the words. Disbelief coursed through my body, flooding my mind with the cruelty of my actions less than a day ago.

  “Is this even possible?” The growled question forced him to take a step closer to the door.

  “Human females of child-bearing age ovulate monthly unless they are pregnant. Her first cycle occurred shortly after her arrival at the medical facility. She was ovulating the first time you mated with her given what you have told me. Her ovum was compatible with your sperm. The paternity test confirms you are the father with 99.9 percent accuracy.” Dr. Ohnasi steepled his hands, and grinned. “Your claim to the monarchy is now uncontested.”

  I had to find Gracie. To explain the twist of fates, and lack of knowledge that resulted in my volatile response upon learning of her pregnancy. To explain how Tilqis’s betrayal poisoned my mind. I prayed she would understand.

  She is broken.

  I knew making amends for my actions would take days, weeks, perhaps even months. The possibility she would never trust me again loomed every bit as deadly as a Lonusian warrior wearing the blood of his enemies. For once, the reality that my father’s sage advice was not always accurate hit me.