by Poppy Rhys
“River?” she probed again, attempting to distract herself from the present—from the pressing, invading hands and penetrative stares. Dania swallowed down the misery when silence greeted her.
“I don’t know what her kind considers healthy,” the physician murmured, palming her thigh, “but by Equahn standards she is...” he hesitated. “I cannot confirm any risks other than her fat reserves.”
Dania’d had no shortage of doctors telling her she needed to lose twenty to thirty pounds. An involuntary chuckle bubbled out of her.
The Equahns stiffened and silenced. She cleared her throat—
And laughed again.
Maybe they’d think she was crazy.
She didn’t try to tamp down her next bout of laughter. It would seem, no matter the planet, doctors would comment on her body. Except planet Covak—she’d seen their robust inhabitants. A species with rolls of flesh to spare.
Dania would bet their doctors would pale at her size—and then offer her platters of desserts.
Mmm, what she wouldn’t do for a mound of grot cream in flaky, buttery pastry.
“We don’t care about her mind,” Raim boredly answered a question she hadn’t heard.
Of course. She was just a walking incubator to them.
“Her extra teat leads me to believe humans may be capable of litters.”
“More than one offspring at a time?” She heard the surprise in Sharn’s tone.
“Don’t hold your breath,” Dania muttered and eye-rolled.
Trik stepped forward, his height affording him the ability to stare down into her eyes as she glared at the ceiling, invading her line of vision. “Hold your tongue, female.”
His long-fingered hand tangled into her hair, and Dania steeled herself for the pain of a sharp tug... that never came.
Instead, he stroked the tresses, threading them between his digits and feeling. Dania’s pulse went erratic.
What is he doing?
The uncertainty, such a deviation from what she expected from these Equahns, caused her focus on the ceiling to break. Her eyes darted to his face.
“Stop touching me,” she said with all the conviction she could muster, yet it almost sounded like a question. Was she so scared that this little interaction, which hadn’t caused her pain—yet—diminished her drive to be as passive-aggressively troublesome as possible?
“Save your fight for the ceremony.” He grinned and his flat teeth appeared whiter than the others. “It’s better to claim a fighting female. Our union will bring stronger offspring.”
Union... Offspring...
Her worst fears were confirmed. It’d been staring her in the face and, deep down, she knew what they’d planned to do, but to have all doubt removed chewed her insides and spit them back out.
Dania’s teeth clenched, the pain of her jaw only adding fuel to her fire as she ground out, “You will never claim me.”
Humor glinted in Trik’s slit blue eyes, and his hand brushed down her back and over her ass cheek.
“Get off me!” she yelled, shoving his arm away. Trik grabbed her jaw in his big hand, his fingers squeezing, just as the doctor had.
Absolute agony sent needles of torment stinging through her body and she cried out before she could swallow it down.
Trik squeezed harder, and Dania’s eyes widened, afraid he’d break her jaw.
Her hands flew up, slapping and pounding against him in an effort to get away, to fend him off, to stop the fucking pain.
“Stop!” she begged, speech slurred with her hostage jaw. “Stop, stop, stop!”
Her knees gave out and he let go.
Dania screamed, vision blurred as she got back up and attacked Trik. Slapping and punching and flailing, exerting all her energy and anger. He couldn’t touch her like that! Her body belonged to her and her alone—they wouldn’t get to do whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted.
“Fuck you!” she screamed repeatedly, hands hitting any part of him they could.
Someone grabbed her shoulder from behind, pulling her back. Trik’s slap came out of nowhere and landed square on her swollen cheek.
It stole her ability to breathe, and the world swayed as she fell into another’s arms. She felt herself being lifted before she succumbed to unconsciousness.
****
Dania put one foot in front of the other, her wrists bound in front of her and attached to a lead that Raim gave another tug on. Walking on this planet had grown easier, but the punishing sun threatened to burn her to a crisp. The sheer dress she’d been forced back into did nothing to shield her skin.
“She walks slow,” Raim grumbled from atop his muscular white mount. “We’ll be late.”
What they would be late for, she didn’t know. Upon waking to the stale taste of blood in her mouth and the excruciating ache in her face, Dania hadn’t asked. Not because she wasn’t curious—and maybe nervous—but because the last slap from Trik nearly did her in.
Aliens hit hard.
She feared seeing her reflection. If the hot, swollen flesh and weak flutter in her cheek were any indication, she didn’t want to look in a mirror. Wounds always hurt more if she looked.
Dania wanted to fight, to rebel, to give them hell... yet she didn’t. A healthy fear of bodily harm kept people alive—kept her alive, kept Val’Koy and Jruviin and River alive.
They were traveling through the city. They hadn’t ventured beyond the walls like they had for kweekotuh. Square, one story dwellings in various shades of beige lined the sandy roads they traveled. The inhabitants bustled about their chores or chatted with their neighbors. The women congregated together, creating items or tending to younglings, the gender divide once more apparent.
Strangers stopped to stare as Dania went by. It reminded her of Tundrin. She wished she could go back.
Never thought I’d say that.
At least she’d had her mates and River with her. Now, her head had become entirely too silent. River hadn’t reached out to her. Even Zed was quiet.
Raim and Trik pulled their mounts to a stop in front of a tower similar to theirs, only smaller, with yellow flags. What had Zed said?
The council. The smaller towers were for Sharn’s council.
What were they doing here?
The wind kicked up, stirring sand and dust into the air. Dania squinted and turned her head away. To the left of the tower, she saw more mounts tethered. Two younger looking Equahns greeted Trik and Raim and proceeded to take their animals as they dismounted. Stablehands, she guessed.
The solid timber doors opened and Dania entered behind the males, apprehension keeping her alert. Maybe she should be bowing her head, looking at the ground, pretending submission, but her anxiety wouldn’t allow that.
Not when Trik and Raim led her into a tower filled with Equahns, most of them male. The only females here were serving food and drink to males that lounged or walked about socializing.
For the second time, she felt the prick of a hundred pairs of eyes.
The doors shut behind them. Dania jumped, startled.
“Eq Trik,” someone greeted from ahead, “and Eq Raim. It pleases me you’ve come.”
There were those titles again. Why hadn’t anyone else addressed Trik and Raim as such besides the doctor and this new person? She wondered if it were a formal title that their family members didn’t use, but others did. It wasn’t unheard of. Most races had some form of priggish customs.
“Boji and Lahk are good males, Qin Wid,” Trik replied, his tone respectful and not at all the domineering timbre he used on her. “We wouldn’t miss this ceremony.”
Ceremony.
That word had been seared into her brain. Ceremony. “Save your fight for the ceremony,” Trik had said.
Dania’s glance darted around the room. There were so many people here... and this was only a council member’s tower. What would the attendance look like for Sharn’s tower?
Mouth feeling parched, she tried to wet her lips and calm down
. Maybe her status as an otherworlder may call for a different, more private, type of ceremony.
“Is this your intended presch? Many are eager to see her submit during the first joining.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Watery saliva rushed her mouth and she repeatedly gulped it down, coaching herself to refrain from tossing her cookies.
Hard. Extremely hard.
At long last, Dania glued her sight to the ground, not trusting herself to hold back the disastrous meltdown snowballing inside her.
“Yes, our intended presch,” Raim admitted. “The staff have been preparing enough to feed a large crowd.”
An excited sound from Wid. “Many have never seen a ceremony with an otherworlder presch. I hear the males from the southlands often take otherworlder mates. Ties to a space trader, gossips say. Who can know?” he barbed. “Savages.”
Raim grunted.
“There’s Qin Grenn,” Wid said, perking up. “I have words for him. Enjoy.” He moved on and stopped by someone else.
Dania counted five more conversations of similar content—everyone was eager to see a ceremony involving an otherworlder. Some commented on her face, and she cringed at the interested lilts in their voices. Raim's chest had noticeably puffed with pride for Trik's handiwork.
Fucking assholes.
The music changed—music she hadn't even noticed until it dipped a few octaves and grew sinister. A group of drums beat an impending sense of doom into her veins.
The crowd rippled as Equahns cranked their necks to focus on the pit and move closer. Dania stuck close when Raim tugged on the lead again and sank to her knees behind them when they occupied plumped up cushions in the front row.
“My brethren, it is time the ceremony began!” Wid announced.
Dania watched, the rising heat from Equahns around her doing nothing at all to stifle the goosebumps that dotted her flesh.
Wid’s next words were lost when two burly males entered from the back entering into the bare center. Behind them walked two females, one dressed in black trousers and tunic, the other in white.
Wid spoke again, but she couldn’t understand. An older language maybe?
Dania murmured as quietly as possible, “Zed, translate.”
“Yes Captain. ‘Two sisters of strong males, yet who will be the one to gain victory? We settle these matters with strength!’”
The crowd grunted.
“Through power!”
The crowd belted a single, synced roar. Dania flinched.
“Females, grab your weapons.”
They both approached the table laden with strange curved and twisted instruments, but everything looked lethal. The mated men moved off to the side to sit next to Wid and watch on.
When the women entered the center, weapons chosen, Wid yelled, “Begin!”
No hesitancy, no lull to assess the other—they dove right into combat.
With their hair bound atop their heads, Dania could hardly tell one sister apart from the other except the one wearing white was slightly taller. She advanced, gaining ground; her face a mask of stone. The smaller, black clad one yawped with every blocked hit.
Suddenly, the dark clothed one dropped down, extending her leg and swiping, knocking the taller sister on her backside.
The move spurred the crowd and coins were exchanged between Equahn males and Dania knew they were taking bets on who would win.
Was this a game to them? These were sisters being forced to fight against each other.
It wasn’t long before the tall woman was on her feet again and this time her blows weren’t nice. She’d been holding back before, and now she advanced on her sister like a fire licked her soles.
Dania wondered when the smaller one would yield. A new punch to the center of her face made her screech in pain.
Dania winced.
The dark one retaliated with a jab. That was a mistake. The taller sister easily deflected, grabbed her smaller sister’s arm, and plunged her blood-hungry blade into her opponent’s belly.
Dania’s teeth dug into her lips. She’d seen worse fights on Tundrin, but this was something different...
A mixture of cheers and groans deafened her, and coins shifted among the crowd.
They didn’t care about this female, only their money.
The defeated woman dropped to the ground, her breathing short and wheezing while she clutched her belly, red blood oozing from between her fingers. Her victorious sister went down on one knee beside her and pressed forehead to the dying girl’s in a final act of... compassion? Remorse?
It shot a pang through Dania’s chest.
The mated males rose from their seats and took to the center, taking advantage of the victor’s submissive posture.
Wait—what—
No!
Her clothes were ripped from her. Green flesh exposed. Dania’d never seen a naked Equahn. But now she saw three as the males discarded their loincloths—far from their normal tight leathers.
Dania knew what happened when the first, bloodcurdling cry split through the jeering crowd.
Her vision blurred.
The awful grunts and sound of slapping skin mixed with the piercing screams of the female who grieved over her sister’s dead body while the two males claimed her—raped her—in front of all these monsters.
Dania couldn’t watch anymore. She looked down into her lap, her fingers twisting into knots.
That would be her.
An image of the dead sister flashed in her mind.
If she didn’t die first.
****
Dania stared into the darkness. She lay upon her cushion in the corner of Raim and Trik’s suite. They hadn’t let her out of their sight for two days, ever since her mates were taken away. Even now, they slept in the bed, only a few feet from her.
All she could think about was the ceremony she’d witnessed. The wails of the female stabbed through her, and she couldn’t erase it from her mind.
“Dania?”
She stilled. Going crazy wasn’t what she needed right now.
A silent, humorless laugh trembled in her chest.
“Feel our bond, Mine.”
Dania squeezed her eyes shut. “River?” Was she wishing his voice into her head or was he real? It wouldn’t be the first time she’d seen something, heard something, that wasn’t really there. “Is that you?”
He sighed through the link, “It is me. Am weak.”
Tears burned her tired eyes and she buried her face into the cushion. “I thought you were dead! I couldn’t hear you, feel you, at all. I—Where are Val’Koy and Jruviin? Are they alive? Are you with them?”
“Yes. In cage. Very unhappy males.”
Dania covered her face and mouth with both hands, trying to muffle the relieved whimper that threatened to disrupt the quiet.
It’d only been a couple days without them—yet this vortex of time made it feel like months had passed.
She took a deep breath and swiped her eyes with the backs of her hands. “I’m afraid, River,” she finally admitted. “I saw a ceremony... I saw what they’re planning to do to me.”
River went silent.
“What will they do with you and my mates afterward?” she asked, not wanting to contemplate the worst-case scenario. “There’re so many of them, and there’ll be even more tomorrow.”
“I failed mine Dania,” he confessed.
“No!” she sternly sent through the link. Her fist struck the cushion. “This isn’t your fault. It’s no one’s fault.” She quoted the words her grandpa liked to say, “Gravity will be gravity.”
“Do not understand.”
She smiled. It hurt, but she welcomed it. “It means we can’t control everything. Shit happens, and we’re just the unlucky schmucks this time around.”
“River wolvenk, not sch-mu-kahs.”
Dania smothered her chuckles into the cushion. “I know, River. I know.”
Zed interrupted. “Captain, our ship is being
hailed.”
For a split second, her breath got trapped in her lungs. “What?” she whispered speaking into the cushion so only the A.I. could hear her.
“The repairman Truptup contacted just entered Equah’s orbit. Should I relay the current situation?”
“Yes!” she rushed in that miniscule whisper.
Trik or Raim rustled atop the bed, and Dania held her breath again. When the slumber-heavy breathing resumed, she exhaled and curled her fingers into the oversized pillow.
“Captain, I am playing the response now.”
“Tro,” he greeted politely, his voice monotone. “The artificial intelligence called Zed has informed us of your hostage situation. We are dispatching shielded bots to assist in your freedom. Standby.”
FORTY-FIVE
JRUVIIN
Something changed.
Jruviin tilted his head, eyes pinpointing the wolvenk and staring. River had been unconscious until an hour ago, but now he crouched down and watched. Watched for something beyond the cell bars.
A quick glance to the corner confirmed Val’Koy slept. Finally. He’d been more twisted up than Jruviin had ever seen him.
He understood the need to get to Dania, but they had to bide their time and prepare for the right moment. These Equahn’s were unpredictably hostile, especially now that they knew the truth—he and Val’Koy weren’t lovers.
Their love for Dania was perverse. Nothing incited violence like a misplaced sense of self-righteousness, and their hosts hadn’t appreciated being duped.
Surprise.
Jruviin followed River’s line of sight and waited. He didn’t have to sit there long before his hearing picked up a faint... skittering.
It was out of the ordinary and sounded bigger than the pincher bugs that burrowed out of holes between the stones of the cell.
He silently stood and inched closer to the bars.
“Is she alive?” he whispered to the creature. The wolvenk language wasn’t recognized by their translators and, without Dania here to translate, they had no way of clear communication. “Dania?”
River knew her name. His ears stood tall, and his bushy tail rustled against the floor. Jruviin momentarily closed his eyes. That was as close to a yes as he’d get.
