My thank you is sincere. I truly am grateful. But the pain of letting him go…it feels like I’m stabbing myself in the chest with each word. “I’ll go now.” My voice gives out, and I turn away quickly, so as not to ruin my big girl farewell with tears.
But he grabs my arm before I can take the first step toward his door.
“I will not apologize for my actions on Xalthuria. Over the past four months, I have reviewed many times what I might have done differently. I was a general. It was my solemn duty to produce a male heir for both my matriarchal and patriarchal lines.”
“Yes, I got that loud and clear.” I try to pull my arm away, not sure how much longer I can keep the hot tears stinging my eyes at bay.
But he holds on, his clawed hand a vice around my upper arm. “I do not believe you do truly comprehend my words, Zin’nia. There has been much misunderstanding between us, but that stops now.”
He not only doesn’t let go of my arm; he clasps the other one. Keeping me there with infuriating ease. “I will not apologize for my actions, because from the moment I saw you, my honor was disabled, my duty forgotten. I knew it was wrong to keep you after our Kel’s announcement. I knew I was withholding the full truth from you when you asked me to explain why I had stolen you. I knew this, and I could not care, could not bring myself to risk your running away. I was the strongest warrior in our Kel’s army, but you, Zin’nia…you made me weak.”
His words…his plaintive eyes. Shock replaces anger and I stop struggling to get away.
“You believe me still to be the male I was before meeting you. You think I would come here and seek another hu’man female to complete the breeding act, because that is my duty as the last viable male in both the Neixal and Trexos lines. You have given me too much credit in this. My love is not a trick. I was instructed recently that love is not a disease. But that is truly what this feels like. An incurable infection that makes my horns come out for you and only you. Know this, my diijo rises for no other, and I will never take another to my mats as long as I shall live.”
I shake my head, unable to believe. “But when I kissed you, you didn’t respond.”
He lets out a hiss, and his ridges ripple. “No, I did not. And with the help of battle mind, I will not. Not until—”
“Not until what?” I ask when he doesn’t finish that sentence.
In the blink of an eye he closes the gap between us. Getting as close as two people can without actually touching. “At first, I settled for you simply coming to my mats, and you ran. Then I asked for you to share in my love disease, and you ran.”
“Because you lied to me!” I remind him, straining my neck to glare up at him.
“I understand your reasons for running,” he answers, with a conceding nod. “But that does not change my requirement for your return to my mats.”
“What?” I whisper. “What do you want from me?”
“It has taken much of my warrior training to keep myself from dragging you back to my ship and commanding you to my bed. To focus on my duties and not on you. And now you are here. Full of gratitude and once again willing to—how did you state it? Sleep with me. But I am not that weak hu’man, Phil. If you agree to once again share my mats, all the warrior training in the world will not allow me to simply let you go. What do I want from you, my treasure?”
He cups my face with one hand, stroking a clawed thumb over my cheek. “Everything. If you return to me, it will not be for one night, but until my dying day. You must bring our Xalling to this ship and agree to become my forever mate. If not, I will continue to suffer this love disease for you from afar, visiting Ste’vie on the days you grant. You will always be my treasure. But I will not allow you to return to my bed until you give me everything I ask for. Your body. Your love. Your marriage pact. Everything.”
I grab on to his wrist, unable to believe he would give me such an ultimatum. That same familiar mix of disbelief and wonder I felt on Xalthuria when he told me he had been stricken with the love disease rushes through me.
But I push it down. I’m not that gullible girl who watches too many romantic entertainments anymore, and…“T’Kan, that’s crazy. Let’s just…get to know each other—you know, with translation chips this time. We should take it slow. Be sensible.”
He looks down at me, both his expression and his ridges unreadable. Then he says, “I have been searching for a word. A word to explain my all-consuming need to have you from the moment our eyes met. Crazy. This hu’man word is the perfect fit.”
He then taps the insignia button on his chest and calls out, “L’Rzo!”
The door to his throne room slides open and the blue guard who escorted me in appears. “Yes, my Xar?”
“See Zin’nia out.”
My eyes widen. “You’re kicking me out?”
“Yes,” he answers simply. “You may return when you are willing to meet my requirements.”
Chapter Forty-One
T’Kan
It takes every ounce of my warrior training not to pull Zin’nia back as she is being escorted off the ship. Part of me wishes to run after her, agree to anything if she will just return to my mats.
But I force myself to stay and remind myself what is at risk. One night versus a lifetime.
No, I must remain resolute. Even if it feels like my hearts are being ripped from my chests as I watch her walk back across the settlement from the observation deck. To a home that does not belong to me. To mats I do not share.
Later that night I toss and turn, managing only short spurts of sleep. How much longer will I have to go without the feel of my treasure’s body cradled against mine, without hearing her speak any songs that include the word love? Perhaps forever.
When I arrive to harvest the narish field the next morning, I find the usual gathering of former New Terrhan field laborers engaged in busy work.
Since my men and I have taken over the farming, instead of lazing about with the time we have afforded them, many of the New Terrhans have continued coming to the fields to perform other labors. They place blankets along the perimeter, and now spend their mornings weaving baskets, sewing clothes, removing the outer layers from various crops, and performing other necessary work while they listen to Zin’nia sing.
This morning, however, I notice that Zin’nia is nowhere to be seen. I also note the presence of Phil, the male who played with my treasure’s emotions. He stands clustered at the edge of the field with a group of males. None of them have tools or produce in their hands, and they eye me warily as I walk past.
Deciding to ignore them, I begin the relatively easy work of pulling the bulbous orange root vegetables from the ground and placing them in baskets. While I do this, I monitor the red dirt road that leads into the settlement’s main row of houses, hoping I will catch a glimpse of her heading this way.
Well into my shift, Zin’nia still hasn’t arrived, but the cluster of empty-handed men grow bold enough to shove someone forward. He has yellowish hair and a ruddy complexion, and stands with hands on his hips when he stops in front of me.
“So is it true?” he asks.
“Is what true?” I ask, not bothering to cease my work. I already have the sense this exchange does not deserve my full attention.
“Are you going to start getting between us and our wives now? Like you did with Dan?”
With a hissing sigh, I stand up from picking, “What is your name, hu’man?”
He looks over his shoulder, as if it is necessary to check with his friends, still standing on the edge of the field, if he can answer my question. “Uh…Eric,” he says eventually.
“Er’ic,” I repeat, throwing the narishes I have gathered in a basket. Then I ask, “Er’ic, do you have a mate?”
Er’ic once again looks over his shoulder before answering. “I’ve got a wife.”
“This mate, do you beat her, even though as a hu’man female she is fragile and certainly not as strong as you?”
Er’ic snorts. “You haven
’t met my wife if you think she’s fragile. She’s twice as wide as me and about four times as mean.”
The men behind him snicker, many of them covering their mouths with their hands.
But I stare him down. “So then, Er’ic you believe it is okay to hurt your mate because she is…how did you state it? Wide?”
The smirk drops from the man’s face. “No, I’m not saying that. I’ve never hit her.” He then looks around at the people who are sitting upon the blankets and says louder, “I’ve never laid hands on a woman in my life.”
“Good,” I answer. “Then it will not be necessary for me to intervene between you and your mate.”
I glance over his shoulder and raise my voice just enough to be heard by all, “And as for your High Leader, Dan. He will hopefully learn the same lesson I did. You cannot imprison someone because you are diseased with love and expect her to stay after she is saved.”
Er’ic backs down, his ruddy face reddening under the frowning gazes of many of the people seated upon the blankets. But another male in the empty-handed group calls out, “Phil says Dan told him they were just arguing, and now you won’t let him see his woman. How do we know we won’t get beaten to a bloody pulp if we argue too hard with our wives?”
“They were not just arguing!” one of the women on the blankets answer. “I saw when Zinnia helped her and the little girl out. Nova’s entire body was covered in welts and bruises.”
“I saw it, too!” another woman cries out. “I bet that’s why Zinnia’s not here. She’s probably tending to poor Nova. And I notice there’s a guard outside Queen Kira’s old house now. Is that your doing, King Xar?”
I am not fond of the King Xar moniker many of the New Terrhans have pinned to me, but I nod, nonetheless.
And to my surprise, a chorus of thank yous and various admirations go up from both the men and women seated upon the blankets, quickly drowning out whatever the cluster of empty-handed men were about to further claim.
They eventually skulk away, led by Phil who apparently has not found any work to occupy his time, even though he no longer has workers to manage.
I wait a while longer for Zin’nia’s arrival. But eventually the people on the blankets disperse, too. Without the entertainment of Zin’nia’s singing, they would rather work inside where it is cooler, one of the older males explains apologetically.
“Hopefully, she’ll be back tomorrow,” his mate of approximately the same age adds.
Hopefully.
I commence the field work but I cannot help but wonder.
Has Zin’nia decided to stay home to tend to Nova this morn or has she made a choice? One that is not me.
She does not return the next morning either. By the time I am finished with the harvesting, my spirits are low and my mood foul. I often grant audiences to any New Terrhan waiting outside of the base ship when I return from a day’s field work. But today I blow past them, leaving L’Rzo to soothe their feelings with a vague promise I might receive them tomorrow.
I head to the throne room, my spirits so low I actually sink into the chair for which it is named.
I have vowed to be strong, to hold tight to my conviction. But the world feels like an ocean crashing dangerously between the three moons.
I lower my head into the palm of my hands. This title…my life…my duty no longer holds meaning. Not if I cannot have my treasure.
The throne room door slides open. “My Xar—”
“Cancel today’s debriefing,” I instruct before he can finish. “I am in no mood to receive the daily progress…”
The “report” hisses away, when I look and see who is standing directly behind L’Rzo.
It’s is Zin’nia. She has Ste’vie strapped to her chest and her k’vani stands at her side. In one hand she carries a large bark cloth bag, and in the other, a woven basket.
She holds up the basket. “I uh…I baked some bread. Lots of bread. That’s what I do when I’m upset, and there’s actually flour to be had.”
“Zin’nia…”
“No, let me talk, please,” she says waving her hands. “Or I won’t get through this.”
With an audible outward breath sigh, she says, “Here’s the thing about me, T’Kan. Growing up, I watched all these romantic entertainments with women who never looked like me, and I wished I could be them. I wished I could love someone and have them love me back. But I knew that was impossible, because the boys in this settlement have been telling me from the time I learned how to talk, that I was weird. To different-looking, too crippled for them to ever love. And the one time a boy told me any different, it turned out to be a trick. But then you happened…”
She looks at me, her beautiful eyes filled with confusion. “You stole me, and you didn’t just make me feel beautiful, you didn’t just make me feel loved, you made me feel treasured. Like I was worth more than your rules and your nice house in the royal city. And now you’ve given up your planet, and you’re here, like this big golden romance hero, telling me it’s all or nothing. And maybe it should be nothing. I went home the other night and tried to decide on nothing. I really, really wanted to be sensible this time. I mean, why would I risk my heart a third time and bring Stevie into this crazy mess?”
She shakes her head at our swirled Xalling, “But I guess in the end, no matter how much I try to grow up, and be some cool version of myself, I’m still that girl who dreamed of love. So this is me, giving that speech that girls have to give at the end of romantic dramas. T’Kan…”
She spreads her arm. “You’re insanely hot. You do things to my body I didn’t even think were possible. You’re amazing leader, who honestly seems to care about my people…and me. You deserve love. And I want to be the one to give it to you. So yes, take everything. I give you everything. Let’s do this. Let’s be crazy together.”
Chapter Forty-Two
Zinnia
So, this is what it feels like to be that character in the romance entertainments. To put it all on the line for True Love.
Everything in the room is silent, as I wait with bated breath to see how he’ll respond.
He doesn’t at first. Just sits there, staring at me for a very long time, before finally holding out his arms and saying, “You will show me the proper way to hold the babe without breaking her.”
It takes me a moment to realize he’s talking about Stevie. I look down to find her curled up against my chest but not sleeping. In fact, her head is turned in such a way, it looks like she’s trying to see who’s speaking.
Trying to get a good look at her father.
“It’s really easy,” I tell him, as I pull Stevie up and out of her sling, then wrap the cloth around her until she looks like a little black and gold baby burrito. “The blanket will keep her head supported, so you just have to curl your arms. Like this…”
I position his huge arms into a cradle, then place the baby inside. Stevie immediately shifts inside her burrito and nuzzles her ridges into T’Kan’s chest.
He freezes, like he’s afraid even breathing in response might somehow hurt Stevie.
“She’s just sniffing around to see if you’ve got any milk,” I explain.
“She wants for nourishment?” T’Kan looks like he’s about to shit his pants.
I laugh. “No, I fed her before we came over here. She’s totally full. That’s just something human babies do. But she’s got a really great Xal nose. She’ll stop as soon as she smells you’re dry.”
As if to illustrate my point, Stevie abruptly stops rooting around, and shifts to look up at T’Kan with the diamond-shaped violet eyes she inherited from him. She then unleashes her greatest weapon, a wide gummy smile.
That’s all it takes. T’Kan’s face melts, and his arms seem to instinctively tighten to hold his daughter closer. “She is beautiful. And perfect.” He looks up at me, his matching violet eyes as intense as hers are happy. “I will protect her always. You have my eternal vow.”
Wow…what is it about seeing th
is huge golden alien shift into daddy mode? My heart turns to syrup as I answer, “I believe you.”
A warm moment beats between us and Baby lets out a deep purr as if reading our hearts.
But then T’Kan abruptly stands and says, “You will take her back now.”
With only that warning, he returns Stevie to me and walks out of the room.
Just walks out of the room.
Anti-climatic would be a gigantic understatement for how I feel as I watch the door slide closed behind him.
What the moons….?
However, that feeling is soon overshadowed when I chase after him and try to palm the door to his throne room.
It’s locked.
“Rowr?” Baby says when I pound my fist against the door. I’m pretty sure that can be translated into, “What did you get us into now, you idiot.”
And moons, do I feel stupid as I look down at my razor cat. I trusted him. I agreed to all his conditions and he locked me up in his throne room. Made me his prisoner again, this time with my baby in tow—
Just as my mind is about to completely unravel, the door opens, revealing a guard I recognize. Not the one who escorted me into the ship the three times I’ve shown up outside the landing strip, but the purple one who flew with N’Maryah and me here four months ago. The one whose boyfriend was the pilot.
“Future Qel Regent,” he says, touching his fingers to his nose ridges. “I will serve as your personal guard. You may not remember me. My name is Br’In. I accompanied you—”
“Oh, I remember you,” I assure him with a shake of my head. But… “What are you doing here? And why did T’Kan lock me in here and just leave?”
“I cannot say why our Xar left, but as for locking you in his throne room… it was only announced you would officially become our Qel Regent a few moments ago. I am afraid our technicians have not finished adding you to the ship’s coding yet. When they do you will be able to open and close any door you wish.”
His To Steal Page 21
