Alien Redeemed

by Marie Dry

  He pressed his face so close to hers, she could see the fine green-and-gold patterns on his skin. Intricate designs that would’ve mesmerized her and tempted her to trace their outline with her finger, if his gaze didn’t blaze crimson intimidation at her. “You will comply, breeder, or your punishment will be severe.” He watched her closely, intimidation the only emotion on his savagely hewn face, and those blazing black-and-red eyes. His arms didn’t even tremble from holding her in the air. If he thought to intimidate her, he was succeeding, but she couldn’t give in. Never again.

  Her soul would shrivel up and die if she ever had to be that beaten-down creature again. Sarah braced her hands on his shoulders and leaned her head forward until their noses almost touched.

  “If I’m to be your wife, I will walk beside you.” It would’ve sounded much more impressive if she wasn’t dangling in his hands. She curled her toes to keep the high-heeled shoes from falling off her feet. He pressed his forehead against hers again. She was about ready to scream “sorry, sorry, sorry, I’ll walk behind you like an obedient little slave,” when he lifted his head and growled something in Zyrgin.

  The warriors, who’d been standing at attention, thumped their chests with their fists. The sound of fists striking flesh rolled over the hot ground like the waves she’d seen the sea make in the TC programs.

  Sarah jerked at the unexpected sound. “What did you say to them?” Please let it not be: let’s barbecue the cheeky human at a feast tonight.

  With an impressive show of strength, the Zyrgin lowered her, slowly, inch by inch, back to the ground. “I said you honor us with your courage.” He held out a hand, large and tipped with sharp, retracted claws. Those claws reminded her of the beast the Space Ranger had destroyed on planet Epsilon. “My breeder will walk beside me.” Maybe she’d been sucked into an alternative universe in the last few minutes. That would explain why it sounded as if he was proud of her. She took his hand.

  They walked through the warriors toward a mountain of jagged brown and orange rocks. The front face was smoothed into a gleaming flat wall. “Is that a cave?”

  “Yes, it is our headquarters.”

  In her wildest dreams, she hadn’t thought these powerful aliens lived in caves on their home world. But, looking around her at the harsh landscape, and feeling the even harsher suns, it made sense. Sarah frowned. “Where’s the city?” Surely his headquarters would be in the largest city?

  “On the other side of the mountain.” Maybe there was vegetation on the other side. If they really ruled all the inhabited planets, in several galaxies, surely they should be able to live better than this. The smooth front of the mountain might be impressive, but it was still a cave. Surrounded by barren rocks. The landscape devoid of green. “What is it called—is it your capital?”

  “Yes, it is the largest city and we call it Zyrgin.”

  “What an original name,” she murmured.

  The silver uniforms of the warriors gleamed in the sun. Her eyes smarted from the glare off the ground and sweat pooled in her armpits and ran down her back. Please let no unsightly spots appeared on my dress.

  It took all her self-control not to limp in the heels that chafed her feet without mercy. The poor warriors having to stand so still in the heat must be baking in their silver uniforms. “How long have they been standing there?”

  “They assembled an hour before we landed.”

  “They must be hot with three suns baking down on them. Maybe we should walk faster,” she whispered.

  “They are warriors.”

  They continued the endless walk to the Zyrgin headquarters at that same pace.

  A long time ago, she’d seen a program about a wall built by the Romans in England. This is what the front of their headquarters reminded her of. It was massive—that smooth wall in the mountain stretching as far as she could see in either direction. The whole of it was covered in complicated chiselled patterns. She almost laughed out loud. What else would it be but swords? Carvings of swords arranged in intricate patterns. Though beautiful, the effect of it was savage, dangerous. It said “enter at your own peril.” Here be warriors. “What do you call your headquarters?” she asked.

  “Zyrgin.”

  Sarah bit her lip not to let the half-hysterical laugh escape.

  Two large, black, gold, and silver doors loomed in front of them.

  Twelve guards, dressed in silver and purple stood at attention, while the big doors slid sideways into the mountain.

  Sarah swallowed a sigh of relief. If she had to walk much more in this heat, she’d keel over and ruin her earlier show of strength. These high heels was about to make her cry for mercy.

  They entered into a huge, cavernous room, gleaming with silver walls, and went down another large corridor. Sarah wanted to cry when their procession turned, only to have another endless corridor in front of them. If he left her alone here, she’d never find her way out. There were only silver corridors, no doors, or furniture to mark the way they’d come. Warriors stood at attention against the gleaming walls.

  “How far do we have to go?” If it wasn’t for his arm around her, she would’ve limped by now. He subtly held her upright, taking some of her weight, and she had the strong impression he tried to hide her increasing weakness from his warriors.

  “Our rooms are close.”

  Our rooms. Everything inside her rejected the intimacy implied in his words. At least the plural implied two rooms. Maybe it would be like the suites in the fancy hotels she’d seen on the TC, with two bedrooms and a sitting room.

  They came to another set of large doors, not as big as those of the entrance, but no less imposing. More guards dressed in silver-and-purple uniforms stood at attention. At least the elaborate dress hid her knocking knees. They went through the doors and entered a large, empty corridor with a dead end. The doors closed behind them with a sinister whoosh, leaving the guards behind. Before, in a happier time, she’d seen a movie of a woman imprisoned. She’d jerked when the jail doors slammed shut behind her—the actress had brilliantly portrayed the sudden realization that it was the end of the road. Sarah felt the same sense of finality when the door shut behind her and Zaar. They stood in a rectangular space surrounded by four walls. The wall to their left slid open and Sarah stepped inside and then stopped and stared. It was like walking into a paradise of color and texture. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered. Never did she expect to see such opulence in a Zyrgin home.

  “It is your dwelling.” He let her go and she missed his touch. He was the only familiar link with her life on Earth.

  Sarah almost sagged in relief. He’d said her dwelling, not theirs. She was so fine with that. “Where’s your room?” she asked, just to make sure she didn’t misunderstand and he planned to share this beautiful space with her.

  He stared down at her. “Opposite this one.”

  Sarah turned and looked at the room to escape that disturbing gaze. Natalie’s old farmhouse could fit in here. She walked deeper into the room that she’d never expected to see on this austere planet. Sumptuous fabrics draped a large bed that dominated the space. Everywhere she looked, elaborate decoration, patterns, and jewels and fabric glittered. “Is this typical Zyrgin furniture?” Nothing she’d learned about them had indicated this level of opulent creativity.

  “It is Aurelian.” Was that a sneer?

  “Their work is amazing.” She fingered a finely woven cloth, draped over a gilded little occasional table.

  “I will return to have last meal with you.” He didn’t comment on her admiration for the Aurelian craftsmanship. He stalked toward her with that unnerving speed and Sarah braced herself. Like he did at the spaceship, he pressed his forehead against hers. Sarah barely breathed, while he held his warm, ridged forehead against her, his exotic herb scent in her nostrils, his body warm against hers.

  One moment he held her upper arms in his warm, claw-like fingers, his forehead firm against hers, the next he was gone. Sarah staggered and clut
ched at one of the opulent chairs to keep her balance. She looked around, but he’d disappeared.

  It hit her, like a physical punch in the throat. She was on a strange planet in a different galaxy and she’d agreed to be the breeder of a being so powerful he could appear and disappear at will. She shuffled backward until she reached the corner. Someone whimpered and vaguely, through her panic, she realized it was coming from her. Sarah sank down and drew up her legs and covered her head with her arms.

  She didn’t know how much time passed before she became aware of not being alone anymore. Crouched down in front of her, Zaar pulled her up to press his head against hers.

  “Why are you sitting on the floor?” His breath wafted over her, fresh herbs and something exotic, she still couldn’t name, mingling with her own breath.

  She shrugged. “Just because.” He was so strong, he’d never understand her fears.

  The door opened and two warriors handed him two platters covered with silver dishes. For a moment she just stared at how much it looked like serving dishes on Earth. He placed them on a small table and pulled back a beautifully carved and painted chair for her, and she hesitantly sat down. “I was worried that I would have to attend elaborate dinners with haughty courtiers,” she said to break the lengthening silence.

  “I do not do court life.” He sat down on the other end of the small table and opened his dish. Her stomach turned. Bloody raw meat lay on the plate. A lot of it. “We are warrior, we leave the useless posturing to the Aurelians.” He grabbed the meat with his bare hands and tore off pieces with his teeth, and literally devoured it. All the while staring at her, his pitch-black eyes bleeding red and orange tendrils, as if daring her to show disgust for the blood dripping from the meat, the way he tore into it.

  She quickly looked down at her own plate. A small piece of raw meat, that was red like meat on Earth, but with a purple hue to it she found extremely off-putting, lay surrounded by oddly shaped fruit on her plate. She picked up a purple fruit with a skin and shape that reminded her of an apple. “When I was a child, the grownups talked about how fruit used to be plentiful. In ancient times people even had their own fruit trees in their back yards.” She couldn’t imagine such a thing. If it wasn’t for Natalie, she doubted there’d be any trees in No Name Town or the surrounding area. “Do you have orchards where this grows?”

  He chewed and swallowed, his throat moving. “We grow them in biodomes.”

  Once when she was a child, the grocer in town got hold of some apples, and her father brought two home. She remembered the crunchy sound and fresh smell of those beautiful red apples when her father and stepmother ate it. She’d so wished there’d been enough money for her to get an apple too. Sarah’s own mouth had watered. “I would love to have a yard and an apple tree,” she mused out loud. “Or in this case, an apple biodome.”

  He grunted, his attention on his meat. And yet she had the impression that he was aware of her every word and move.

  She took a bite of the alien fruit and shivered at the unexpected bitterness that exploded over her taste buds, coating her tongue and smothering her taste buds. It settled kind of strange in her stomach. Gamely, she picked up another fruit, vaguely shaped like a banana, but with a pitted, brown skin. No way was she about to stop eating and walk away hungry. She took a bite and gagged. It tasted awful, the texture slimy and strange on her tongue. She gamely swallowed it.

  Every time she looked at Zaar, he was tearing off a piece of bloody meat with his incisors and then chewed with strong teeth. Thank the saints he kept his mouth closed like humans did. Though the way he tore the meat with his incisors? She shuddered. It reminded her of the TC programs she’d watched with Natalie about lions. Don’t judge, she told herself and when he tore into his meat again, Sarah hid one of the purple and orange fruits in her lap, in the folds of the elaborate dress.

  “You have to eat a third of the meat, two fruits, and a vegetable to maintain your optimum weight. You will eat more than that to become pleasingly round.”

  Sarah stared down at her plate. Julia had said Zurian wanted her pleasingly round, as well. “Which ones are the vegetables?”

  “The orange and red ones.”

  When he was done, she was relieved to see that no blood stained his mouth or hands. Obviously, he’d mastered the art of devouring raw meat neatly.

  He pinned her with a vicious gaze. “I am not Zacar. I will not eat vitamins to pretend I do not have to eat raw meat.”

  “I don’t expect you to,” she said quietly. “There are worse things than seeing you eat raw meat,” she added. It might be difficult to see, but his tearing raw meat apart with his teeth wasn’t even close to the bad she’d experienced.

  Sarah picked up an orange vegetable that looked vaguely like a rock, and using her knife, peeled off the skin. It came off easily, but that was the only easy thing about it. The dull orange inside might be textured like a potato, but it was tougher than old leather. She gamely ate half of it, praying her teeth held against the toughness.

  The meat didn’t look appetising at all, but Sarah was not a fussy eater and she wasn’t about to waste food. She cut off a piece of meat and lifted her fork to her mouth. She chewed and swallowed while her skin broke out in goose bumps. It tasted awful. She’d eaten rats and the meat had tasted wild, but tastier. No human could eat this meat.

  Sarah sat back and pushed her plate away. She’d eaten enough.

  He grunted and the door opened. Two warriors entered and took the dishes away, scrupulously avoiding looking at her.

  Her heartbeat sped up, as if competing in a race. Was it nighttime? Did he expect them to go to bed now?

  6

  He rose and circled the table to press his forehead against hers. “If you need assistance, speak my name and I will come.”

  He disappeared, but reappeared almost instantly. “Do not say my name if it is not a crisis.” He paused. “A real crisis, not a female crisis.”

  Her back snapped ramrod stiff of its own volition. “I’m not in the habit—”

  He was gone and the room suddenly felt emptier, bigger. “That’s a really irritating way to get the last word,” she muttered.

  She walked over and stood staring down at the sumptuous bed. It made her uneasy, as if she was an intruder in this feminine room. Everywhere she looked, riches that made her uncomfortable glinted, like false gold. She couldn’t sleep here, not on that bed meant for an empress. Before the camps she’d never even travelled farther than Natalie’s farm. Her room at home had been small with only a cot to sleep on.

  In the corner, where she’d sat before, her trunks stood stacked against the wall. She took her stash of fruit and hid it at the bottom of her trunk. She rummaged inside and found her nightdress and went to the bathroom. There was no way to know if it was day or night, but it felt like bedtime. The shower was thankfully easy to operate and the clear, hot water soothed her. Afterward Sarah grabbed a blanket and cushion from her stuff and wedged herself into the corner. She didn’t get the sense from him that he’d physically harm her, but from here she’d see who was coming at her. She wiggled until she was as comfortable as she was going to get and settled in for a long, sleepless night.

  “Wake, breeder.”

  The voice penetrated through the soothing sounds of the cleansing shower. She didn’t want to listen to the voice—if she stayed in the shower long enough, she’d be clean. Maybe she’d even stay clean. She scrubbed her skin, tried to get the feel of their hands and slobber off.

  “Open your eyes,” a harsh voice said, with so much authority she had to obey. Sarah opened her eyes and stared into black eyes rapidly reddening. She screamed and then she frowned down at her drenched pajamas. Sarah touched her wet hair plastered against her face and looked around. How on Earth did she get from the corner to the shower? She had her washcloth in her hand and she forced herself to stop scrubbing her skin through the nightdress.

  “Why are you showering with your clothes on?”
>
  So he didn’t put her in here, which meant she’d walked in her sleep. Again. She hadn’t done that for a while now. For months after her rescue, she’d wake and find she wasn’t in bed anymore. Sarah pushed away her hair that stuck to her face and over her left eye. What could she say that wouldn’t make her look like an idiot? Her brain felt foggy, her limbs as if they didn’t want to work properly. She shrugged and tried to sound nonchalant. “I felt like a shower?”

  He shut off the water. “Do not play games with me, breeder. Why did you make those noises?”

  Sarah lowered her head, brushing down her nightdress to try and squeeze the water out. The material moulded to her body and she crossed her arms over her breasts. She chanced a glance and saw his gaze glued to her chest. “I didn’t realize I was making noises. How did you know?” Did he spy on her while she slept? She shivered, cold now that he’d shut off the water.

  “Superior Zyrgin ears,” he said and handed her a huge silver towel. She was too grateful to have something to cover up with to care that it looked like metal that couldn’t dry anything. She swung it around her shoulders and it clung to her body, sucking up moisture and warming her at the same time.

  “Why did you shower with your clothes on?” She struggled to her feet, and sidling around him, she left the bathroom, but she could feel him on her heels. She’d slung the towel over her shoulders to make sure it covered her breasts, but now she was sure she felt his eyes on her buttocks that must be clearly visible through her wet nightdress. She tugged the towel lower and turned to face him. “I must’ve been walking in my sleep.” She might as well confess and get it over with—he wouldn’t stop asking.

  “Why do you do this? It serves no purpose?”

  She stormed to her corner and drew the blanket over her. “Some human women like to take a bath while they sleep.” Was he totally incapable of feeling sympathy?

  He came to stand over her and Sarah could’ve kicked herself. She should’ve remained standing, then she wouldn’t be trapped in a corner and at his mercy. Her heartbeat kicked up and her breath became choppy. This position was too vulnerable and had never brought anything good.