by A. R. Ford
“Where the hell is she?” Before Dr. Ohnasi could reply, another knock came at the door of my study. Zanzi entered, her usually placid countenance pale and strained. “What is it, Zanzi?”
“The reassignment center called a few minutes ago. Gracie made her way there and has requested termination. What is going on, Zayn? You were so happy with her.” Zanzi wrung her hands as she spoke. I knew enough to know she was beyond upset given the news.
My gut clenched at her words. I cannot lose you, little one. “I have made a horrible mistake, Zanzi. I must get to Gracie, now. Call the center and tell them I have issued an emergency stay on her case.”
The next half hour crawled by. The transport pilot pushed the craft to warp speed to hasten our arrival. I ran into the center with a security force at my heels. The officials stood near a closed cell. One of them beckoned for me.
“You received the stay?” I demanded.
“It was unnecessary when we realized who she was, sir.” The official unlocked and opened the door. “She is in this holding cell.”
Gracie lay facing the wall on a lumpy cot covered with a rough blanket. She turned over, and stood up when the official entered the cell. “Is it time?” she asked. “I am ready to go.”
She wants to die. Gods help me.
My heart cried out for her. There was no welcoming response. She was cool, calm, and lifeless. The light that danced in her green eyes had faded. Dark circles proving the burden of the past hours formed beneath each eye.
Gracie did not welcome me with open arms as I hoped. She backed away until her back met the wall. Her gaze focused on the floor. Downcast, lifeless eyes waiting for the intravenous injection that would end her life. The life she no longer wanted to live because of my refusal to believe in her.
“There has been a stay issued by Warlord Zayn Bolden. I am afraid we cannot proceed with termination,” the official informed her.
“No! Intergalactic law states I have the right to elect termination if my assignment is unsatisfactory in any way. I choose termination!” she shouted, tears filling her eyes.
“I am afraid we cannot allow that, Miss Thomson. Warlord Bolden will take you home now.”
She clung to the official’s arm, falling to her knees. “You cannot do this. I choose termination. I have rights.” Her voice faded into hysterical sobs. The hand on the official’s arm fell away.
The official cleared his throat, and bobbed his head in my direction. “Warlord Bolden.” He stepped out of the cell leaving the consequences of my actions fully on my shoulders.
The burden is yours alone to bear.
Gracie refused to look at me when I walked into the cell. She rose to her feet before backing against the wall again. Her feet were planted firmly on the corrugated floor which made my attempt to lead her peacefully from the cell ineffective.
“You must come with me, little one. I have made a horrible mistake.”
“My assignment is unsatisfactory. I choose termination,” she whispered in a flat, lifeless voice.
“You will come home with me.”
Another attempt to lead her from the cell failed. I picked her up, surprised when she did not resist, or scream her protests. Instead, she lay limp in my arms, with her eyes closed. A single tear gathered in the inner corner of one eye.
“My assignment is unsatisfactory. I choose termination. Intergalactic law mandates you allow my choice.”
“You will not elect reassignment.”
“My assignment is unsatisfactory. I choose termination. My right to choose has been violated. I demand an appeal of the center’s decision. Intergalactic law dictates the procedure.” The halting flow of words came in a forlorn voice that shattered my heart.
A growl of rage directed at myself made Gracie flinch. My little one refused to talk during the remainder of the journey to the palace. Once in our room, she lay on our bed, on her side, facing the wall.
“Gracie, please talk to me.” My plea brought no reaction. A hand on her shoulder only made her stiffen. “I wrongly accused you of something. Dr. Ohnasi—no one knew for certain that human females could conceive naturally with a Lonusian. We both thought estrus was required. I thought you had been impregnated before your journey to Lonus.”
She lay without reacting to my apology. “Gracie?”
“My assignment is unsatisfactory. I choose termination. I demand to be taken to the reassignment center. My rights, as dictated by intergalactic law, have been violated.”
“Dammit, Gracie!” My hands curled around her arms. She looked at the wall.
My grip on her arms eased. Nothing would be gained by continuing to assert my regrets. Each time a meal was delivered--even those containing her beloved french fries--she sat at the table, and silently refused food. My attempts at conversation throughout the day were largely ignored.
That night when I thought to hold her as I did each night when we lay in bed together, she moved as far from me as she could, curled into a ball, and fell asleep. I woke later that night to find Gracie had moved to the sofa in our room. She huddled there wearing the blue clinic attire. I carried her back to bed. Hours later, I woke again to find she preferred the love seat on the balcony to sleeping beside me.
The heaviness in my heart grew more intense in the days that followed. Gracie remained silent. She refused to speak to Zanzi, or Dr. Ohnasi when they visited. Zanzi’s searing glance chastised me more brutally than words could. Dr. Ohnasi’s sigh came before he handed me a series of ultrasound photographs.
“I thought you might want these,” he added.
“I am a fool.” The admission came at a heavy price. Each word ripped at my heart. “She will not speak. Rarely eats. I have broken her spirit, her will to live. Did you know she requested termination at the reassignment center?”
“Zanzi told me what happened.” Dr. Ohnasi glanced at Gracie as she sat on the balcony. We stood in the center of the massive bedroom that felt empty without my mate’s presence. “I understand the physical realm, sir. This one is beyond my abilities. Perhaps Zanzi can advise you on how to mend a broken heart.”
As if to add insult to injury, I returned from a day’s work in my study to find Gracie gone. The guards stationed at the door of our chambers shuffled their feet while glancing at each other when I appeared with questions regarding her whereabouts.
“Where is she?” I demanded. “Do not think to refuse to answer my questions and live!” My roar echoed in the hall.
One guard pointed at the far end of the hall. “Your mate may be in one of the rooms at the end of the hallway, Warlord Bolden.”
“May be?”
The guard simply nodded and returned to staring at the floor. Outrage at Gracie’s disappearance tinged my actions. One door after another shoved open, room after room ransacked as I searched every possible space for signs of my mate. Panic began to replace the rage that threatened to break free when nearly all the rooms came up empty.
The only room that remained was a room set aside for children of guests. It lacked the size and luxurious appointments of the other guest rooms. A rap on the door brought the sound of footsteps that stopped an instant before the door opened.
Gracie stood staring at me, wearing the blue scrubs she wore upon her return from the reassignment center.
“And what do you think you are doing here, little one? You must come with me.”
She sighed, clasped her hands together, and spoke in a uniform monotone devoid of emotion. “My rights have been violated. I elected termination, and have been denied the request guaranteed by intergalactic law.”
Her response was always the same. If she spoke at all, it was to remind me of her right to self-termination. My first failure would be the last. Gracie would return to her rightful place—one way, or the other.
Without another word, I lifted Gracie into my arms. She turned into a hissing hellion who pounded my chest with tiny fists. The guards stepped aside when I appeared with my captive mate. My heel ca
ught and kicked the door shut.
Gracie sagged in my arms. She stifled a sob by pressing both hands against her mouth. I sat on the bed while rubbing her back.
“You must not upset yourself in such a way.”
“Everything I do is wrong!” she wailed.
The first words other than the mantra from intergalactic law indicated her true feelings. How could I respond knowing responsibility for this mess lay squarely on my shoulders?
“I was wrong to make those accusations. You have done nothing wrong, and should feel no guilt. What can I do, Gracie?” My knuckles stroked a tear-stained cheek. I wanted nothing more than to feel her arms around my neck, her heart beating against mine.
Wet, spiked lashes made her eyes appear enormous. The tear-reddened nose and eyes spoke of her pain. She gazed up at me, lower lip trembling, and, without warning, spoke. “I have no one to talk to here. Eve isn’t here. She was the only person I had to talk to before you. I believed you were different. Unlike those assholes on earth I dated. I only wanted to love you, and ... and hoped maybe you would love me, too. I wish they had shot me into a black hole somewhere instead of here. Maybe my heart wouldn’t feel like it’s been ripped apart.”
My mate clambered off my lap with all the grace and dignity of a queen before retiring to the balcony where I knew she would remain until I fell asleep.
*****
“What can I do, Zanzi? She refuses to speak to me on most occasions. If she does speak, all I hear is that she chooses termination. She rarely eats. If I come to bed with her, she leaves as soon as I fall asleep. I am losing her.” My voice was little more than a whisper as I admitted my worst fears.
A week had passed since that fateful day when my clouded mind led me to make the worst decision of my life. I regretted hurting Gracie more with each passing day. Nothing I tried worked. She pulled farther away, merely existing in a shell of a body that once held more love and passion than I deserved.
Zanzi gave my arm a pat. She sat back, arms crossed on her chest, eyes flickering over my face. “You have lost weight. I would say your mate is not the only one to refuse food. As much as I hate to say this, you brought this on yourself with your rash decision.”
I stood and paced the floor of my study. “I realize that, Zanzi! I am not excusing my actions. Help me. I cannot lose her.” A strangled breath of air filled my lungs. “I found the first gift I gave her in my closet. It was a Dalaakian silk blanket and pillow. She loved them, and now she wants nothing to do with them—or me.”
“Come sit with me. I cannot stand to see you suffer.” The woman who served as my mother for the years since my mother’s assassination, held me in a gentle embrace. Her hand rubbed my back. She soothed me with her warmth and love. “She is hurt by your actions. It is normal to expect a bit of push back. She will push you away to ensure the pain is not so great.”
The finality of my actions loomed before me. The thought of life without Gracie, without our child, nearly unmanned me. I fought back the rising terror. “How could I have been so stupid?”
Zanzi gave my hand a reassuring pat. “You allowed Tilqis to pollute your mind where all women are concerned. You judged Gracie by the same standard you judged Tilqis. Gracie did nothing to deserve it.”
I stared at the floor. Zanzi’s assertion brought the truth home. “I cannot believe I allowed my actions to be affected by Tilqis’s betrayal.”
“You must court Gracie all over again. Convince her you are a changed man who is unwilling to lose her. Convince her of your love. Gentleness. Kindness. Compassion. Always be by her side. Make it impossible for her to forget the man she loved.”
“Oh, gods! You think she no longer loves me? She must love me!” Terror strangled my words.
With my stricken face cupped between her hands, Zanzi laughed softly. “Yes, she can refuse to love you. Remember, Zayn, your actions created this mess. And only your actions can make things right. Choose wisely, son.” Zanzi kissed my cheek before she released my face. “Now go do what you need to do. Expect small steps. It will not occur overnight.”
After Zanzi left the study, I sat at the desk mulling over everything she said. I knew from my battle experience there was only one way to win a war. Accept the facts, and move forward with a solid plan of action. With a grin, I stood up and stretched. For the first time in days, I felt secure in the knowledge I had a plan. A plan I was confident would be successful once Gracie realized I was determined to win her love and trust once again.
Chapter 9: Gracie
An overwhelming numbness pervaded every fiber of my being. A dullness that led ostensibly to the inability to cry, or feel any real emotion. An occasional tear would form. It rarely made it farther than the corner of an eye. Most often, it merely wet my eyelashes. Time passed in a blur. I knew only one thing. I did not want to be near Zayn Bolden, to give him another chance to hurt me the way he had before. My quest for reassignment was denied because of him, of his fake need to assure me he believed my story. A fake need that led to a stilted, awkward explanation the instant I lay in his bed.
I would not accept his story at face value. One thing was obvious. Investigating the facts was something that did not occur on earth, or on Lonus N88. Jump to a conclusion. Convict before the truth is known. Those were common. Twice I found myself in the snares of such conclusions and convictions. It would never happen again.
An opened door and scuffling feet woke me one morning. I peered toward the door only to sit bolt upright when I saw several of Zayn’s warriors helping him carry the massive desk from his study, into the bedroom. The sofa had been pushed against a wall to create more room for the desk.
“Just put it here, close to the windows. There ... just like that,” Zayn ordered. When the desk’s location met his liking, he turned to the men with another request. “Put the sofa in my study. Bring my chair and at least four others to sit in front of the desk.”
The men left at once to do his bidding. They were loyal to a fault. Zayn had the gall to grin at me when he saw I was awake.
“Good morning, little one!” He sat beside me on the bed, drew me onto his lap, and pressed a kiss against my temple. “Did you rest well?” He was unaffected by my silence. “Breakfast will be delivered in a bit. I thought we could eat on the balcony. You love sitting out there in the fresh air.”
“My assignment is unsatisfactory. I elect termination. Please take me to the reassignment center immediately.” Zayn’s smile morphed into a frown at my words.
“The answer is no, Gracie, just as it has been each time you tell me that. I will never allow you to elect termination.”
“My assignment is unsatisfactory …” Zayn’s fingertips came to rest against my mouth.
“Shush, little one. I will not disturb you as I can see you refuse to enjoy this beautiful day. We will speak when you feel better.”
The men arrived carrying the chairs. I had nothing else to say. The only words that would pass my lips involved reassignment and termination. Ignoring Zayn was my primary objective. It was unsettling to see his desk and chairs in the middle of the bedroom floor where our sitting area once resided.
Our? There was only his. The harsh self-chastisement came immediately. It was safer to acknowledge the truth than be hurt by a lie.
I pushed past the men into the bathroom. One glance in the mirror revealed I was a wreck. Their muffled whispers filtered through the closed door. I did not care what they whispered about. My face was pale, dark circles giving my face a haggard appearance. The hair I once took pride in was nothing more than a nest of matted tangles around my face. I brushed my teeth after splashing my face with cold water.
A hand strayed to my belly where the slightest bump protruded. Dr. Ohnasi assured me I was at the twelve weeks mark of the pregnancy, and that everything was normal.
There was nothing normal about having my heart ripped out, yet continuing to exist.
Zayn lounged in a chair with his feet crossed on the desk’s top.
He stood up the instant I appeared in the room. “Our food is waiting.” He took my hand and led me onto the balcony.
I knew better than to resist. Zayn was much too strong for someone as insignificant as me to fight back. At least the tea was good. I sipped from the mug while avoiding his gaze. As was my habit, my mind fell into the peaceful fuzziness where nothing mattered.
The grasp of his hand on my arm pulled me from my haven. “Are you ready to go inside? I noticed you did not eat. I can have the chef prepare anything you would like. You only need tell me what you desire. I will see that it is done.”
I ignored his attempt at conversation, and returned to the bed where I lay facing the wall. Zayn sighed before turning his attention to the pile of papers and files sitting on the desk.
My bid to sleep the morning away was interrupted when two council members appeared in the bedroom. A pillow over my head muffled their conversation. I could still hear every word they said.
“I understand congratulations are in order,” one of the council members purred. “You do not know how glad I am that you are the uncontested monarch.”
“Thank you,” Zayn replied with the silky ease of a true politician.
The other man cleared his throat before lowering his voice conspiratorially; as if I could not hear what he said. “I heard your mate requested reassignment. Is it true?”
“It was a misunderstanding that I take full blame for. You have no need to be concerned.” Zayn’s explanation roused my anger. How dare he make statements for me!
The council members stared open-mouthed when I crawled from the bed and approached Zayn. My finger wagged while my hoarsely uttered words spilled out. “You told Dr. Ohnasi to take the whore and go.”
Blood drained from Zayn’s face turning the once vibrant steel blue, to a much lighter shade. “We should discuss this privately, little one.”
“Don’t bother. The whore is retiring to the balcony where she can rest in peace.” My voice assumed the lifeless quality from before. It was only the second time my words varied. The impact of the new words on Zayn did not go unnoticed.
