by Marie Dry
“No.” He’d find out soon enough about all the issues she’d developed since her rescue from the camps. Issues she doubted any machine could fix.
“If you give me some privacy, I’ll get dressed.” She desperately needed time on her own to think. To come to terms with waking up in another galaxy.
He disappeared before she finished her sentence.
Trembling, afraid, but determined to see this through, she touched the beautiful dress, fit for an empress. The finest silk caressed her hands, shimmered in the artificial light. The trembling started deep inside her soul and wouldn’t stop. Someone like her didn’t deserve silk. The thought came out of nowhere and she pushed it down. This was her new beginning.
She put her hand over her chest, feeling the skin against her fingers move with the frantic rhythm of her heart. He’d said she wouldn’t remember the time in stasis, but he’d been wrong.
She remembered each and every time he stood over her stasis pod, his presence larger than life. A primal part of her had known it was the Zyrgin. One time she’d had an awareness of a soft touch on her cheek. “Your beauty exceeds that of the legendary breeder of the third Zyrgin.” At the time she’d heard the words without comprehending, the stasis sleep too deep. Maybe the stasis had warped her memories or perception of what was happening around her. Maybe she’d hallucinated those visits. He couldn’t appear on a moving spaceship, the way he had in the guesthouse. Could he?
The dress would cover her from head to toe and consisted of three layers. Someone had arranged it on the bed in the order she had to put it on. The dress that would be against her skin was so fine and soft, she barely felt it. She smoothed out the sumptuous material: blue and made from something finer and stronger, and more elastic than any piece of silk she’d managed to get her hands on. She pulled it on and it clung snug to her skin. Also silk, the second layer was a slightly denser weave of blue and gold with long, sheer sleeves. It hugged her waist, but flared out over her hips. This layer had long, diaphanous sleeves. A sleeveless blue-and-gold dress, heavily embroidered with jewels that came to just above her ankles, made up the third layer. Over all that came a corset made from sliver-thin strips of blue, gold, silver, and purple leather. So soft and fine, it felt like a different kind of silk. Did they use silkworms to make the silk? Like they used to on Earth?
Sarah dressed and then opened the gold box she’d found under the dress. The top of the box was decorated with intricately inlaid gold patterns. She drew in a breath and touched the jeweled combs, nestled on more of the silk-like material, with a trembling finger. They looked human-made to her, with either diamonds and sapphires or very good imitations. She’d never seen anything so fine. She retrieved her comb from her luggage and arranged her hair and used the combs to hold it up, assuming this was what he meant when he said to make her hair stay on her head.
Sarah spread out the skirt and moved from side to side, feeling almost like a princess. “I wish I had a mirror,” she said out loud. The wall changed and became reflective. “That’s either very handy or spooky,” she muttered. Did all their computers react to English? She stopped swinging from side to side. Her dress stilled and she stared into the mirror. An elegant woman, with jeweled combs, sparkling in her blonde hair, stared back at her. She took an instinctive step back. That wasn’t her. The elegant beauty in the mirror didn’t look dirty, the jewels in the combs hid the horror that should reflect in those blue eyes that appeared to sparkle.
“What have you done, Sarah?” she asked the elegant woman in the mirror. She clenched her hands in the folds of the long, elegant dress until the fine bones in her fingers ached. She couldn’t do this. This was the dress of an empress and she was as far away from royalty as you could get.
Cold sweat broke out in her armpits, ran down her back. She swayed on the silver, heeled shoes. “Breathe, Sarah,” she wheezed out loud. She forced her breathing under control and the panic receded. Whatever they’d done to her memory had helped, because, for once, she’d been able to stave off a panic attack.
A large presence appeared behind her image in the mirror. Sarah screamed and whirled around and stumbled on the high heels. He steadied her, his large hands warm on her upper arms, his body big and hard against hers. His uniform looked more formal than the one he wore when he came to see her on Earth: silver, with an emblem on his left shoulder that comprised of swords, with their pointy ends touching in the middle. His collar was an intricate design of silver, gold, and purple swords. His ridge gleamed menacing in the artificial light. When she’d come out of stasis, she’d been too groggy to appreciate the magnificent way he filled out his uniform. Now she couldn’t stop noticing him. She quickly looked up, embarrassed to realize she was checking out his body.
She stepped away from his hold and clutched her ribs where her frantic heart beat overtime. “Stop doing that.” She bit her lip, biting back the immediate urge to apologize for speaking to him like that. She wasn’t that downtrodden woman anymore.
“What is it that I should stop doing, little human?” It was more a taunt than a question. As if he dared her to give him instructions and suffer the consequences.
“Appear out of the blue,” she murmured, staring down at his boots, his muscled calves, his thighs, before she quickly glanced back up. Sudden movement and loud noises tended to make her panic.
As she stared up into those eyes, that always gave her the feeling of falling into an endless black hole, they changed, swirled, until all the colors on the spectrum merged to form an endless black that seared her irises. He moved, and the light glinted on the ridge on his head, that was more pronounced than those of the other warriors.
“You never told me your name,” she blurted.
He cocked his head, seemed to consider her words. “You may call me My Leader.”
She recoiled. “I’m not calling my husband by a title. So, if you want me to walk out this door and greet your people with a polite smile on my face, you’d better tell me your name. Or I’m not budging.” How could she kick him in the nuts, throw panties at him, and agree to come with him to another galaxy without knowing his name?
He moved in on her, had her by the back of the neck before she could blink. Panic threatened—all he had to do to kill her, was tighten his hold. She clenched her fists. “You dare give me ultimatums?” He breathed into her face and she swore it was on purpose, to intimidate her even more. It was working. At least his breath was fresh, vaguely minty.
She stared up at him, into that gaze that was turning crimson fast, and it hit her. What was he going to do to her? Beat her? She’d endured that. Rape her? A shudder raged through her slender body. She’d endured that too and survived. Torture her? Done that. Starve her? Nothing new. She almost laughed in his face, but controlled herself with an effort. “No, I’m merely insisting to know the name of the man I came millions of miles to an alien planet to live with,” she said and she almost smirked at how firm and unafraid she sounded.
“Zyrgin, I am a Zyrgin, not a man.” He stared down at her so long, she was about ready to scream “never mind, she’d call him by his title,” when he said, “My name is Zaar.”
“Zaar,” she repeated softly. It suited him.
“We will disembark and you will stay a step behind me at all times.”
“All right.”
They walked through endless corridors until she saw a brownish light in the distance. It was different from the light on Earth, as if it reflected through dust particles. She’d known it intellectually, but now it hit her deep in her gut. She was on another planet. Among aliens. The silver walls of the spaceship had protected her from the sight of the sky that was so different; even the color of the light shining in through the door was an eerie shade of brown and orange. Compared to the pure light on Earth, it appeared dusty.
The doorway had looked small, but the closer they walked, the larger it grew. She stood next to the Zyrgin who towered over her and the roof was high above his head. She clutched he
r elbows, her nails gouging into her skin through the silk of her dress. She was about to see another world, another planet, and she wasn’t ready. Her mind couldn’t grasp the fact that she was going to live on this planet from now on. The air became trapped in her lungs, threatening to choke her. She was the alien here. The Zyrgin, still holding her upper arm, stepped forward.
Above her, light brown smudges dotted a darker brown sky. Compared to the white fluffy clouds and blue skies of Earth, the Zyrgin sky looked harsh and sinister. Two dark orange suns hung low in the sky, bigger than the sun from Earth. Much bigger. Slightly behind them, an even bigger sun baked down on the planet. It was hot—miserably hot air hit her in the face like a physical slap and sweat broke out in her armpits and the small of her back. Coughing, trying to get the breath to go out and in of her lungs, Sarah took an instinctive step back. She wanted to go home. To blue skies and humans. Even vicious humans. Never had she felt so small, like a pebble in a vast ocean of rocks. Clenching her fists inside the folds of the wide skirt of the jeweled dress she wore, Sarah forced herself not to scream and jerk back when the Zyrgin stepped forward.
The wide ramp extended down to a patterned ground. They stepped off the ramp, and a silver glint caught her eye. The ground was inlaid with strips of what looked like silver and solid bronze rocks. In spite of the craftsmanship and obvious wealth, it appeared stark and hostile. She looked around. No trees, no flowers, no wildlife, only jagged mountains around them, and beneath their feet, the smoothened rocks, inlaid with silver, that shone bright in the sunlight, stabbed into her eyes.
Sarah sucked in a breath, and it took every inch of courage she had not to run back into the spaceship and demand they take her back home. Pronto. Millions of warriors stood at attention. It couldn’t be more than a few thousand, but her mind kept saying millions. “Umver.” She whispered the typical Montana saying she’d heard her father use all through her childhood.
Row upon row of green heads, with those distinctive ridges, gleamed in the strange brown sun. Sinister and menacing. Did they wear army boots? She couldn’t see.
They came to attention, the noise of their boots coming down on the ground deafening. She flinched. It sounded like guns going off.
Sarah started at the noise of bullets hitting random targets as the raiders shot up in the air, and sometimes into the crowd around them, while they weaved around drunkenly. Someone screamed high and shrill. It couldn’t be her, because she couldn’t breathe in enough air to shout. Sarah tried to make herself smaller. Maybe this time they wouldn’t notice her, because being shot would be an escape from this hell—being noticed led to very ugly things. Things her mind didn’t want to know. She bit her lip to stop the moan—their eyes would fall on her, and they’d drag her off to a tent or worse, force their depravities on her in plain sight.
“Quiet, my breeder.”
Sarah frowned, brushed her hair out of her eyes with shaking hands. They’d called her many names, horrific names, but never that. She opened her eyes, feeling dazed.
Eyes so black, they looked like pools of water at midnight, stared at her. As she watched, red tendrils leaked into the black. “Why are you acting like this? My breeder will show courage and grace.”
She blinked and the raiders disappeared. The Zyrgin crouched in front of her.
He took her chin in his big hand and lifted it, stared down at her, those exotic hairless lids unblinking. Trying to intimidate her? If he only knew what a coward she was, he wouldn’t put this much effort into it. “You are acting broken.” He said it as if she’d committed murder. “You will cease doing it now.”
A hysterical laugh burst from her lips. Broken? “You have no idea. Sure, I’ll just stop being broken and be magically whole again,” she said between bursts of hideous laughter she couldn’t stop.
His hand moved to her shoulder and he shook her, very softly. “Stop that noise, breeder.”
Sarah looked around, dazed. She was back inside the spaceship, wedged into a corner just behind the door leading to the ramp. Shuddering with humiliation, she lowered her head onto her drawn-up knees. It had happened before—something, mostly a smell or noise, would trigger blackouts. And then she’d come to herself in the corner of whatever room she’d been in.
She pleated the embroidered fabric of her dress over her drawn-up knees, too ashamed to look at him. “As you can see, I’m not worthy to be your empress. Perhaps it would be best for both of us if you send me back home.” To where everyone stared at her with pity in their eyes. Thinking they knew her demons.
“You are my breeder, not an empress, and you will rise and show my warriors respect.” He pulled her up, shook her. It didn’t hurt, felt more like a jostle.
Well, that let her know her place on this planet. “Stop that.” She tried to shake him off, but he held her securely. There was nowhere to run to, nothing she could do, but do as he told her. For now.
At the door, he shook her again, a very slight motion, and she glared at him. “Stop shaking me as if I’m a dog or something.”
“I am doing my duty as a warrior and giving you comfort,” he said. He sounded stiff, as if it was an unpleasant duty.
She didn’t know which was worse, that he saw it as a duty or thought shaking her would do the trick. “It’s not comforting.” She threw up her hands. “Oh, never mind. Let’s just get this over with.”
She braced for a blow, but he dragged her to the door of the large spaceship. Humiliation burned through her. All these warriors had seen her fall apart. They’d think her weak, and the little she’d seen before her panic attack made her think she’d have to walk through rows and rows of warriors that worshipped strength. Sarah couldn’t hide another flinch. She fisted her hands so tight it was a miracle the skin didn’t split apart over her knuckles. Why did she agree to this? She wasn’t safe here and she definitely wasn’t empress material? They might call her only the Zyrgin’s breeder, but this was the kind of reception a disembarking empress received.
Sarah wanted to turn around and run to the stasis pod and beg the captain of the ship to freeze her again and take her back to Earth. For one crazy moment she wished she could. Or maybe he could just freeze her again and leave her like that. Unaware of ugliness, of pain, and feeling dirty.
Holding her arm in his large claw, Zaar dragged her down the ramp. “Do not show your weakness again.”
“I won’t,” she whispered, out of choices. Go back, get back to where it’s familiar and safe, a voice shouted in her mind. The same voice that had nagged at her to end it in the camps. She’d ignored that voice, had never given up hope that Charles or Julia and Natalie would eventually find her. Sarah lifted her dress with a trembling hand and carefully walked down the ramp next to Zaar. Into her new life.
5
At the bottom of the ramp of the predatory-looking spaceship, he turned so that they stood facing each other. The ridge on his head caught the rays of the orange-brown sun and reflected them back into the sky. He bent down and pressed that ominous-looking ridge against her forehead. It pressed hard and unyielding against her skin. “Do not move,” he said, barely above a whisper.
His skin burned her forehead; the harsh, brownish sun baked down on her vulnerable head. Her life had changed forever—did that witch Destiny plan to make it worse or better?
As far as she could work out, from what she could see in her peripheral vision, this was a claiming in front of the warriors. I am alpha and this female is mine—that was what his actions shouted. She couldn’t still her trembling, and yet, the intimacy didn’t make her want to throw up or scream hysterically. Would it be like that when he made love to her? A flush started in her cheeks and spread to the rest of her body. Could she do that with him? Could what these aliens did in bed even be called making love? What if it was so alien that it couldn’t even be called sex?
“When I lift my head, you will walk behind me. Close to me, but always a step behind.” He spoke in a soft rumble, his breath drifting over h
er, reminding her of fresh but exotic herbs.
He straightened and took a step forward to stand in front of her.
Sarah stared at his large back and something hot simmered through her veins. In the camps, they’d taken her choices from her. Anger stirred. It had been simmering in the weeks before she boarded the ship. The therapist had insisted that talking would help with the knot in her stomach—a knot formed by fear and abuse. Julia and Natalie had wanted to coddle her. That something racing through her blood started a slow boil. Enough. She’d fit in on this planet, but it wouldn’t include meekly walking behind her future husband. If she allowed this now, she’d never build a relationship with him where they were equals.
“No,” she said so soft it was barely a sound, but he stopped, his shoulders tensed, and he turned to face her. She should be afraid, should comply, like she’d done since she was a little girl to keep the peace. And what had that brought her? Certainly not peace.
You’re pathetic—nothing more than my thing. If the raider who’d owned her for the first six months of her captivity stood before her now, she’d kill him with her bare hands before he could open his mouth to call her a thing and hire her out to his friends. She’d roar her victory over his dead body. She’d tear his friends to pieces. Sarah clenched and unclenched her hands. Never again.
The Zyrgin stalked back to her; all the swirling colors in his eyes, that made up the black, reflected the fires of hell. “Obey.”
Sarah balled her fists and drew her body as tall and wide as she could make it. Let him growl in that scarily sexy way. Let his eyes turn crimson. She was done being owned, hurt, intimidated, or made to cower. He was so much taller, she had to arch her neck uncomfortably, so Sarah pushed him back. He didn’t budge. She scowled. If only he wasn’t so impossibly big and strong. Before she knew his intention, he’d lifted her with his hands under her arms, her feet dangling in the air.
