by T. S. Ryder
Natalie stirred and her eyes fluttered open. Her vision blurred and she closed them again, blinking a few times as she tried to focus. She was in her room and then she turned and saw him watching her. She gasped as his emerald gaze pierced hers. It took a moment for her to realize where she was.
“What happened?” she asked him, groggily.
He gazed at her for some time.
“You had a fever. A virus. You have been treated now,” he said gently. “And there’s something else.” He paused to see her reaction. She gave him a blank look.
“I don’t know if the doctor told you, but you should know this.”
“Know what?” she asked.
“Natalie, you are pregnant,” he said carefully. “And the baby is mine.”
“What?” she said, as her eyes grew wide. “Oh, no, no, no! This is crazy,” she said, panic welling inside her. Her rosy lips quivered. Tears welled in her eyes and she wrung her hands.
“Oh, what am I going to do?” She hugged her knees and rocked back and forth sobbing. “The king knows?”
“Yes,” he said quietly. His chest constricted terribly as her tear-filled, dark eyes accused him. He felt the measure of her pain. His knuckles turned white on the hand that gripped the hilt of his dagger at his side.
“It’s all your fault!” she cried, sobs racking her body. “You should have left me alone that night, you... you...” her voice choked as she coughed.
His fingers loosened on the hilt. He couldn’t do it. He just couldn’t. The throbbing in his temples grew in time with the ache in his heart.
What is wrong with you? You never had any difficulty killing for the king before. What has changed your mind? The dark voice whispered inside his head. You are thinking too much... she’s a weak human. She won’t even fight back. It shouldn’t be a problem for you.
No... shut up! Shut up! He couldn’t kill her. How could he stab her frail body as she already suffered? He saw – he felt – the pain that she was in.
This wasn’t right. He had never killed in this manner before. Sure, people had died at his hand, but that had been on the battlefield. And he had never killed a woman. It was an act he found dishonorable – beneath him, even.
Now, as he gazed into her clear, brown eyes, all he wanted was to take her in his arms and tell her that everything would be alright. He sat down on the bed beside her and held her hand.
“Natalie... I’m sorry. The king wants you dead.”
“Why don’t you kill me then?” she asked, as tears uncontrollably streamed down her cheeks. “I can’t have this baby. I don’t want it,” she said hysterically.
“Natalie, listen to me,” he began.
“No, you listen! What if I weren’t pregnant? You would kill me, wouldn’t you?” she said derisively.
“Natalie,” he said, pulling her closer as he took her face in his hands, wiping away the tears with his fingertips. “You are my true mate. I could never kill you. Even before all of this… Somehow, I couldn’t do it.”
“What? I... I don’t understand,” she said, confused.
“Our race can only impregnate the woman destined to be our true mate. The idea is considered to be a myth now, but our ancient elders believed it,” he said. “You don’t have to be scared anymore. I will be at your side.”
Natalie stared at him incredulously. She knew she was saying things out of hysteria as she was too soft-hearted to hurt any living soul, let alone abort her own child. He was at her side saying that she was his mate.
He gazed into her eyes, and then in a swift move he pulled her closer so that she sat across his thighs. Then, his lips were on hers as he fervently claimed her mouth. She gasped as his tongue slid into her mouth, demanding and urgent, grazing hers. She yielded, kissing him back.
Long after they had pulled apart he held her in his arms, savoring the sweet scent of her hair.
“Don’t you worry, Natalie. Trust me. I’ll get us out of here,” he said, quiet determination in his voice.
Chapter Six
Erdal rushed back to the palace, his mind racing. Natalie followed closely behind, holding his hand. She wore a long, dark gown and a hooded robe so that her face wasn’t visible. She had to walk quickly to keep up with him.
Erdal knew that what he was doing was punishable by death. He needed to work fast and get her out of the palace right away. He would have to be very careful. Only Gezek knew about the king’s orders. Erdal needed to escape the wily old creature. His shrewd eyes were everywhere as he was the king’s spy.
Erdal crossed the palace gardens, staying out of sight of the palace guards who prowled the vast lawns until they reached the building on the other side. Still holding Natalie’s hand, he circled the wall until he reached a pair of doors that would lead them to the basement parking area. He got in the elevator and tapped in the commands as Natalie stood close by. He checked his Light-Shard as he slung it across his shoulder. The elevator came to a stop. The doors slid open and, as he stepped out, a cold, raspy voice greeted him from his left.
“Going somewhere?” Gezek asked, a sinister smile curled across his thin, dark lips.
The guard on his right held his crossbow, ready to shoot anytime if he moved. Two more royal guards stood alert, one to his left and another behind him, holding Natalie. Their katanas were unsheathed and ready at hand. Natalie’s pupils dilated and her scream was lost on her lips as the guard who held her brought a hand to her mouth and twisted her arms behind her back.
“Gezek,” Erdal began in a cold voice despite the rage boiling his blood. “Let her go.”
“Traitor! You dare defy the king’s orders?” Gezek said, his eyes gleaming with madness. “Take them away and lock them up in the Dark Cells.”
Erdal couldn’t believe his bad luck. The guards dragged him and Natalie back toward the elevators and down to the Dark Cells. Then they shoved him roughly into a cell and shut the door behind him.
The Dark Cells were the dungeons where the prisoners on death row were held. The inmates there were tortured and then executed. The walls themselves were dark and gruesome. No one ever made it outside of their reaches. Erdal was stripped of his royal guard’s ensemble and he now wore only dark pants. His muscular chest was bare and his dark hair fell loosely past his shoulders. He was nothing but a traitor whose fate was sealed.
Erdal sank down, his back scraping against the wall of the dreary cell. The place smelled of death. His hands and feet were shackled and the rusty, old metal cut through his wrists. His heart sank as he thought of Natalie and the unborn child. She was right. He shouldn’t have brought her here. He had been a fool.
He wondered where they had taken her. They couldn’t lock her up in these cells; she was too fragile and wouldn’t survive it. His chest constricted as he clenched his jaw. This had to end. He unconsciously struggled against the restraints, the metal cutting through his skin. Blood the color of dark blue ink oozed out. He must find a way. There was no time. He had to do something.
You brought this on yourself, Erdal. There’s no one to blame but you, the voice whispered inside his head.
He had hurt her, and she didn’t deserve to die. He did. She had to live. A lone tear rolled down his cheek.
The next morning, one of the prison guards dragged him out into the yard and tied his hands to two wooden stakes set six feet apart. He stood, suspended, the sun bearing down upon him. Men and women gathered there – mostly slaves who had served in the court or other royal guards. Orgus, a hulking one-eyed man known as the master executioner and punisher emerged with a large whip in hand.
Erdal’s left eye was already swollen from the blow Orgus had given him earlier that morning when asked about Natalie. His nose bled. His face was soiled with dirt and his dark blood dripped down his bare chest. His head ached with a distracting throbbing. He tried to gather his thoughts, concentrating on reading the punisher’s mind.
He won’t be much fun, but I’d like to hear the woman cry, Erdal could hear him gl
oat.
Erdal’s breathing became staggered as rage surged through his veins. His hands closed into fists, straining against the metal restraints. Sweat dripped from his brow. Then, he saw her.
One of the prison guards had dragged Natalie out into the yard. Her hands and feet were in fetters. Her dress was in tatters, her ivory shoulders bare. Her pale face looked as though she would swoon at any moment. Then he saw the blood, bright red, dripping from her delicate wrists as the harsh metal cut through her soft skin.
Erdal’s chest constricted at the sight. He had done this to her. Now there was no way that he could save her or the baby. He must do something – anything – to save her from this torture.
“Let her go! She doesn’t deserve this punishment,” Erdal said through his clenched teeth. A futile attempt, but an attempt nonetheless.
He didn’t fear death. There was something he felt for her. The emotion made it unbearable for him to see such a fragile being endure any form of torture.
“Shut up!” Orgus grunted, flicking his large, ominous whip. He flexed his arm and brought down the first lash. Hard.
Erdal winced, gritting his teeth as the whip cut through the skin on his back, slashing it open. Searing, hot pain shot through the gash, bringing tears to his eyes. He dared not scream. He would bear the pain as long as he could. His head reeled as more gashes appeared on his back again and again and again. He could no longer take it. He screamed, the pain blocking everything else out.
Natalie stood bound to the wooden post opposite Erdal. She didn’t realize she was trembling all over, tears uncontrollably streaming down her face. She couldn’t breathe. The heat was making her thoughts fuzzy. She closed her eyes, wishing for time to stop. She longed for the hulking man to stop hurting Erdal. Natalie flinched with each blow that was laid upon him. She hated violence, and now she was being forced to witness it. Even worse, she had to witness its use against Erdal.
“S-stop it! Please don’t hurt him,” she heard herself cry aloud.
Why did she feel his pain? He was a stranger to her – her captor. He wasn’t even human. Was it because he was the father of her unborn child? Or was it because she needed him now? He said she was his mate. Something had changed between them, although she couldn’t figure out what. Yet, she knew in her heart that he was the only one in the entire galaxy who could protect her from the king. If he died, there was no chance she could survive among these barbarians.
Orgus strode toward her with heavy steps, whip in hand. She strained at her shackles. The cold, relentless gleam in the man’s eye was more terrifying than the sight of the whip. She shuddered, catching her breath and bracing herself. She wouldn’t let him gloat over her. She would bear the pain if she could.
She glanced over at Erdal, his long hair matted to his face, still struggling against his restraints. She saw him looking at her and caught naked fear in his emerald eyes as he helplessly gazed back at her.
Just as Orgus stepped behind her, ready for the first lash, out of the corner of her eye she saw a man running toward them. The man wore gray overalls and held a piece of paper in his hand. He waved wildly as he hurried over to them.
“Stop! In the name of the king, stop!” he yelled, as he approached Orgus. He stood for a while, catching his breath.
“I have the king’s orders to release the woman right away,” he said as he thrust the paper into Orgus’s hand.
“What is the meaning of this?” Orgus grunted, irritated at being interrupted.
“The king wants her back at the palace now!” he said. “And he wants Erdal back in prison. His sentence is postponed,” he added quickly.
Orgus stared at the paper and reluctantly released Natalie. She stumbled and the man who had come to her rescue held her, steadying her. Her head spun and she shuddered, taking a deep breath. She turned, taking one last look at Erdal as the man led her inside, back to the harem.
Chapter Seven
He woke up with a start, his heart thrumming against his chest and a dull pain smarting his temples. He looked around the small chamber. Although he could see fairly well in the dark, his left eye troubled him that night. The untended wounds from the flogging burned his back, distracting him as he tried to focus. He needed to see a doctor... Suddenly, a deluge of thoughts broke through the pain. Natalie, and Barca leading her away, and him being dragged back to this cell. It all came back to him.
He tried to sit up and a wave of nausea hit him. He bent over and threw up. His head reeling, he thought he heard the door to his cell open. He instinctively braced himself and saw a man silhouetted in the doorway as he came forward and bent over for a closer look.
“Erdal?” Dr. Barca whispered. “Can you hear me? I’m going to get you out of here.”
Erdal thought he was hallucinating. He simply stared back at him.
“Erdal... Take these.” He held out two red pills and a bottle of water. “They will help with the pain for a while.”
Erdal took the pills and swallowed them. His vision slowly improved.
“Wh-where is Natalie?” Erdal whispered. He was surprised when he had to strain himself to speak. He had always thought he was stronger than that.
“She’s in the harem,” Dr. Barca said. “Can you move?”
“Yes.”
“We don’t have much time, or I would have treated you first. We need to go now!” he insisted.
“Why are you risking your life for me?” Erdal asked, incredulous.
“The woman... Her blood is rare,” he said, as he took off the restraints. “I have found a cure for the bone disease. Her blood will cure my daughter and all the other children.”
“The King, how did you convince him?”
“I persuaded him that the woman is more valuable to us now and that we need her,” he said as he helped Erdal to his feet.
“Thank you,” Erdal said.
“She can’t stay here. Her life is in danger. She still carries your child. Knowing Zutaar, the moment he finds out I discovered a cure, he will kill her.”
“But you need her...” Erdal began.
“I have taken enough samples of her blood to last a lifetime,” Dr. Barca explained. “There’s no time. Let’s go. I will get her out and you will both leave right away. The car stands ready at the far back. You must take the back gate of the fifth garden that opens into the Clapwood forest,” he said in a low voice as he peered outside the door. He motioned for Erdal to follow him.
They made their way through the hallway, walking in the dim light toward the exit. They stepped into the moonless night.
***
Natalie ran as fast as she could as she followed the man who had rescued her earlier. Dr. Barca, they called him. The man who had saved her life and who would help her get to Erdal, who was already waiting in the car. She trusted him with her life. She couldn’t thank him enough.
No. Thank you, Natalie. Your blood saved my daughter’s life, he had said. She was once again surprised. She was an ordinary human, but her blood had saved another being’s life.
He gave her the first aid box that contained everything she would need, and instructed Erdal to go straight to their hiding place.
Her heart fluttered and her stomach knotted when she saw him. He glanced at her and gave her a crooked smile. She fought back tears and sat beside him as the car silently levitated above the ground and swiftly moved forward, past the trees in the forest and high above them toward the mountains.
Erdal knew a place high in the mountains – a cabin house where they would be safe, at least for a while.
It wasn’t until hours later that she saw him differently. She saw the man who he really was.
The night was cold and misty in the mountains. Erdal sat on the chair by the blazing fireplace as she walked up to him. The King’s mercenaries were out looking for them. They had avoided lighting the electric lamps to escape undue attention.
“Let me tend to your wounds,” she said softly.
“I’ll be fine
,” he said quietly, brooding. He had been doing so since she got in the car with him.
“No, you’re not. Let me see,” she said adamantly.
“I said I’ll be fine,” he said, glancing at her with his piercing emerald eyes. They looked fiery in the warm, golden firelight.
“They will get infected! Why won’t you let me treat you?” she said, frustrated tears welling up in her eyes.
He gazed at her intensely, then conceded. She put the box on the nearby table and opened it. She helped him out of his shirt. She saw the amulet he wore around his neck. It was a small, cylindrical silver charm strung on a silver chain.
He sat on the floor facing the fire, his back to her, as she tended to his wounds one by one. The sight of the large gashes searing his back made her breath catch in her throat. She lightly touched one of the gashes with an antiseptic swab and felt him wince. She stopped, took a deep breath, and kept going...
He stared into the crackling fire and flinched at her touch. Her soft hand quietly worked its magic on his burning back. The effect of the pills had long worn off and he needed to rest. His body was strong and it would heal eventually. He was more exhausted from emotional strain.
He was relieved that she and the baby were safe. She was his mate now. Nothing would change that. He heard her quietly sobbing as she worked on his back.
“I’m sorry, Erdal,” she whispered, weeping. “You could have easily killed me. Why did you endure all this?” Her voice cracked as she spoke.
“I couldn’t. You are my mate and I had to save you,” he said softly. “I’m sorry that you had to go through it all.”
“Yes, you got me into this mess. But you tried to save my life, too. It was just bad luck that we got caught,” she said as she rubbed the ointment on his wounds and wrapped gauze around his chest.
He turned and gazed into her warm, brown eyes. They glowed in the firelight as she looked up at him. He saw a world of innocence there, and the depth of her guilt became almost tangible to him. He sensed something more, too – a pull he felt toward her. It charged the air between them. His emerald eyes grew darker...
