by Ali Winters
He’s alive! Oh, thank the stars!
She thought they’d killed him within the Gateway paths. Hope sparked in her heart as it swelled with relief at seeing him. He was unconscious, but at least he was alive! A fluttering filled her stomach.
“Yes, Sir.” The light haired man straightened his back and placed his other hand firmly around her wrist, wrenching her hand behind her back. Sharp pain shot up her arm, forcing her to hunch to give some relief.
For the first time, Micah left her to the other man. She could struggle with Alton, but… if she did, she would have to run.
Her gaze shot to Lucian from the corner of her eye. The urge to fight and run was overwhelming, but she pushed it back down. She couldn’t leave him. He would stay with her if their situations were reversed.
Without resistance, she followed Alton’s jerking movements as he led her to the pillar. He lifted the chains, binding her wrists and pushing her against the cold stone. His body pressed against hers and he fastened the cuff to the hook above her head.
Oriana closed her eyes, turning her face away from him in disgust. He finished securing her, but instead of moving away he leaned in closer, his arms caging her in. Leaning forward he places his cheek near hers. She held her breath as blood roared in her ears.
“You smell so good, Prince Erik will love you.” His voice grated on her, the smile on his face was clear in his words. It made her sick.
She was tired, crushed, and angry. Oriana welcomed the anger, letting it take over. Who was this lowly Citali to treat her with such disrespect? Jerking her knee up, she connected with his core. The whoosh of air leaving his body as he stumbled away, grasping at his stomach.
“Don’t you ever come near me again,” Oriana threatened. “I don’t care if your King has conquered the entire universe, if you disrespect me again, I will kill you.”
The man gasped for breath for another minute before he could straighten himself. Black, dull eyes focused on her, narrowing with cruel intent. In one quick stride he stood in front of her. His large hand reached up and wrapped around her neck, slowly increasing his pressure.
The air quickly restricted from her lungs. She struggled, squirming under his grip. His face darkened as stars formed before her eyes.
“Try that again, Princess,” he spat her title at her, “And Prince Erik will have to find a replacement. You are powerless now. The only reason you still have your title is by the grace of the Prince.”
Abruptly, he dropped his hand from her throat and stormed out of the room, slamming and locking the door behind him. Oriana pulled in several gulps of air, as a coughing fit racked her body.
Once she caught her breath, she leaned her head against the cool stone that pressed into her back. One way or another, that Citali would pay.
A soft chuckle echoed through the room. She knew that laugh.
“Lucian?” she whispered.
“I can’t believe you just did that,” his voice was low and raspy, but he clearly found amusement in her hurting the guard.
“He deserved it,” she croaked out, her throat sore from the abuse. Another coughing fit shook her and they lapsed into silence once more.
Stretching her fingers out she let out a soft hiss, the sharp points of the star had burrowed into her palm. Oriana pulled the points and flexed the muscles of her hand. It ached, but she had what she needed. She set to work, placing one point of the star into the keyhole of her cuffs.
Behind her, Lucian’s chains rattled.
“Oriana?” He paused for a second before rushing on, “I should have been more careful. I should have insisted you figure it out before we went back to the Gateway.”
She didn’t answer. Her attention focused on her task.
“Please don’t hate me, Oriana,” he pleaded solemnly when she didn’t respond.
The lock clicked open, allowing her to lower herself onto her toes. She rubbed the raw marks on her wrists from the too tight metal as she looked around the pillar.
Lucian was still talking to her as his head hung low and his once neat hair obscured his eyes. He was beaten, bruised, and bloodied, but he still had a grace to him she’d never noticed before. She studied his profile in the soft light. What had he been saying?
“I’m so sorry, Oriana. I hope that if we ever get out of this, one day you will be able to forgive me.”
“Forgive you? For what?” she asked.
Lucian’s head shot up, “How did you…?” His wide eyes took her in.
She couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her mouth as she held up the seven-pointed star insignia pin, several of the points now bent out of shape. “I found this.”
“Found?” he echoed.
“Found… ripped off that krikes’s uniform. It’s basically the same thing.”
A soft chuckle sounded in his chest as his lopsided grin graced his face again. Dark mahogany eyes sparkled down at her.
“Oh.” The sound escaped her lips as she broke the trance his mahogany eyes held over her. She leaned against him, pushing up to her tip-toes and set to work on the cuffs that chained him.
Blood drained from her face as the lock to the door slid open. She shoved the star pin into his palm and stepped back. Bright light flooded into the room.
Averting her eyes, she squinted at the shadowed figure in the doorway. “What in Sol’s name is going on in here?” Micah demanded, shattering the small piece of happiness she’d managed to find in this nightmarish situation.
Oriana backed against the wall as he crossed the room and grabbed her arm, twisting. Pain tore through her arm, making her to cry out. Her eyes connected with Lucian’s. She shook her head. There was nothing he could do for her now.
“What do you think you are doing tezza?” He wrapped his hand around her arm and jerked her back to the far side of the stone pillar. Roughly, he tugged her them above her head to fastening the cuffs around her wrists. Hope died in the air with the click of the lock securing.
Sendrik entered the room, “How is our little Princess?” he asked walking up to her and taking a wide-legged stance, his hands clasped behind his back. His manner was casual, as though he had approached a friend and was making small talk. The smug look on his face made him look slightly younger than before.
Then again, it could be the bad lighting.
She willed him to move closer within her reach—she would wipe that arrogant expression off his face faster than he could blink.
He took another step, then stopped.
“Whatever you are thinking about attempting, Oriana, you should think better of it. There is nothing you can do that will help you—other than obey. Resisting, in any way, will only lead you down the path of unbearable pain.” His sharp glare unnerved her as a slow, evil grin spread across his face. “If you resist, I will make sure that your companion will pay. There are many things worse than death that will await him based on your actions.”
She’d been through more pain than she cared to remember since the night of the attacks, there was nothing more they could do to her, short of death, that would stop her—except threaten Lucian.
Her eyes flicked to the side, trying to catch a glimpse from the corner of her eye. He shouldn’t have been involved. If it weren’t for her not knowing how to use the key properly in the first place, he would be safe at home, unaware of what was going on.
He should be safe.
“Ah, and there it is,” Sendrik murmured, finally approaching her. “Now, we know how to tame the spark.”
Oriana lowered her gaze to the floor, unwilling to risk Lucian’s safety any more than it already had. She wouldn’t fight them, not until he had a chance to escape.
Edin’s voice sounded from the doorway, “The room is ready, Sendrik.”
“Good, good… we will be there shortly.” He waved his hand dismissing Edin.
“She’s nothing but trouble. King Mobius should kill her now and be done with it,” Micah snapped, “She is planning something, I know it. This
tezza wouldn’t surrender so easy.”
“I agree, but he seems to think that she will talk.” Sendrik rubbed his chin as his narrowed eyes examined her. “If only she was trained as a proper princess, she could be so valuable.”
Rage burned her face as they treated her as though she were an object to be used. With her parents gone long before their time, she was the rightful ruler of Soleis now and that position deserved respect.
“You may have me at a disadvantage right now, but I swear to you on my dying breath, I will make every last one of you pay for what you have done.” Sendrik grabbed a fist full of her hair and pulled. She let out a cry.
“Let go of her.” Lucian demanded.
The men in front of her gaped as Sendrik let his hand, tangled in her hair, drop, freeing her neck from the painful angle.
She twisted around to see Lucian, free of his chains, standing with his fists clenched tightly at his side.
In a flurry of movement, Lucian threw himself at the two men. His fist swung, connecting with Micah’s chin with a crack. Sendrik was on him in a second, his sharp knee scoring in the center of Lucian’s spine as he reached for Micah once more. Lucian punched the man squarely in the chest, forcing him to the ground, coughing for air.
Spinning as he fell, Lucian swung one last punch, hitting Sendrik in the nose.
Micah’s leg shot out, sweeping Lucian’s feet from under him, before Lucian dropped to the ground, gasping. The two men stood and converged on him, kicking him until his body lay on the ground, curled in to an unmoving heap.
“No,” Oriana whimpered.
Within seconds, the fight had ended.
Wiping his face with the back of his hand, Sendrik ordered, “Bring her to the room as soon as you chain him back up. I will send Edin to dispose of him,”
His sharp eyes met Oriana’s. “He could have lived another day or two if he hadn’t pulled that little stunt. Now he will die for his crime.”
With that, Sendrik turned on his heel and stormed out of the room.
Oriana
Her head snapped to the side.
The strike to her face sent pins and needles along her cheek as Oriana’s tongue darted out from between her already swollen lips and a metallic taste filled her mouth. Straightening her head, she refused to raise her hand and wipe the blood from her chin. He could continue to slap her all he wanted, but it wouldn’t change a thing.
“You will do as I say or I will make you suffer,” he threatened again.
Laughter bubbled up as anger filled her veins with an icy chill.
“Make me suffer?” she spat out. “You’ve already killed everyone I love, taken my home, and destroyed it. There is nothing you can do to me that would make me suffer more than I already have.”
Sendrik’s mouth curled into a sneer. “Nothing, Princess?” he asked evenly, his voice slithered down her spine making bile rise in her throat. “Are you so sure about that?”
It was such a simple question, poison lacing each word. Oriana clamped her mouth shut, not daring to take the bait. She stared at the man, her gray eyes narrowed, scanning the sharp-featured man before her. His flat black eyes took in her form in return. He lifted one hand in a slight gesture, motioning to one of the many guards behind her.
Grunting and shuffling from behind her brought her attention from the evil man before her. Oriana spun around in time to watch as two soldiers dragged in Lucian’s limp form. His head hung low—he was unconscious again. They dropped him at her feet and Oriana tried not to flinch when his body hit with a solid, and painful, thump.
One soldier with a fresh scar running down his cheek, kicked Lucian and rolled him onto his back. A cut under one swollen eye and bruises marred his still handsome face.
She stuffed down the desire to fall to his side and help him and turned her attention back to Sendrik, hardening her features.
“I’ve seen how he looks at you… and how you look at him.”
Oriana opened her mouth to protest, but Sendrik held up his boney hand, silencing her.
“Do not even think of denying it, Princess. You’ve made it too easy. I couldn’t have had an easier time framing Earth if I’d tried. I couldn’t believe my luck when you went off alone with him!” He laughed. “Did you honestly think no one would notice?”
Actually... I’d hoped no one would notice… she cringed. The fact he had no clue that Lucian’s world had been cleared of these suspicions gave her strength, because whatever advantage he believed framing Earth gave him, was gone, and he had no idea.
“If you do not comply, then I’ll have him beaten within an inch of his pathetic life, again and again until you do,” he said as he circled her and Lucian. A hunter cornering his prey. “Tell me where the Lumeria is, and I will let you say goodbye before he dies.”
“Hurt him and you will never get what you want,” Oriana said icily, pulling her shoulders back. Even with her air of defiance, inside, fear wrapped its frigid hand tightly around her spine. The urge to run far away, and as fast as she could, was almost uncontrollable, but she planted her feet, and held her ground, vowing to do everything in her power to fight until the end.
Sendrik’s head snapped in her direction, rogue strands of his hair falling as they had worked themselves out of his perfectly slicked back ponytail. His eyes narrowed into slits.
In one quick stride, he crossed the space between them, stepping over Lucian as though we were nothing more than a piece of dirt. He gripped her chin with his hand, his fingers pressing into her cheeks. Her teeth began to cut into the inside of her mouth, but she refused to whimper.
No, she wouldn’t let him know how much he terrified her. She wouldn’t give him what he wanted. He could physically force her into anything, but she would never go willingly.
“If you do not tell me where to find the crystal, he will suffer a slow and agonizing death… and you will watch every second of it.”
Her eyes wavered between his. The stench of his breath made her stomach roll.
She couldn’t make Lucian suffer, but she couldn’t allow them to get ahold of the crystal. She would die slowly next to him if she had to if it meant she could save everyone else. Her heart screamed against her decision.
“The Lumeria? That’s… that’s just a child’s story. It’s not real.” The denial twisted her insides, but she wouldn’t throw away the lives of countless innocents.
Sendrik rocked back on his heels and sighed heavily. “I really wish you hadn’t said that, Princess.” His cold eyes met hers. “Edin, dispose of this trash on my floor.”
With a nod, Edin stepped forward and draped Lucian’s arm across his shoulder, and lifted him up. Turning as he dragged his limp body from the room, Edin’s eyes locked onto Oriana’s for a fraction of a second, the message in his eyes difficult to decipher. She turned her head, not interested in anything the man had to convey.
“And, Edin?” Sendrik called out and waited for the quiet Citali to turn. “Make sure it’s a slow and painful death. Then drop him at the Outer Gateway of his world as a warning.”
“Yes, Sendrik,” Edin said and continued to drag Lucian from the room.
“No!” Oriana yelled.
Her eyes went from Lucian’s body—his feet dragging against the floor—to Sendrik’s lined face. Subjecting Lucian to this fate wasn’t her call to make. She panicked. She stepped forward, closer to the vile man, her eyes pleading and desperate.
“Please, don’t kill him, I’ll do anything—just don’t kill him,” she begged. “I’ll tell you where the crystal is.”
“It’s too late for that, Princess. You should have told me when you had the chance.” Satisfaction punctuated every word as sharp bony fingers wrapped themselves around her upper arm, squeezing tightly on the bruised flesh, “Now that you admitted to knowing where this crystal is, you will tell me, or I will bring him back and cut out his heart in front of you.”
Her mouth dropped open in shock. The man was deranged. No sane person would
threaten something so grotesque. She struggled to find her voice.
“I—I…”
“Sir,” Alton called from the doorway. “Prince Erik requests the prisoner’s presence at the soonest convenience.”
“Tell him the man is dead, I will bring her shortly.”
Oriana lifted her hand to cover her mouth.
Dead…
The word echoed in her mind, heavy, and loud. The world tilted from under her.
“Yes, Sir.” Alton saluted, thumping his fist against his chest before leaving just as suddenly as he appeared.
“We will resume our talks shortly. You will hand over the Lumeria and you will unlock it for us.”
“Never…”
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that, Princess. There are fates far worse than death that await you if you do not comply.”
Oriana gulped as panic rose, stealing the air from her lungs.
I can’t do this alone… I need Lucian.
He would help her figure out what to do next… but he was dead now, or would be in a matter of minutes.
Pushing those thoughts away, she squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t afford to think about that, not now. Two familiar pairs of hands took her arms again and led her from the room.
Alton and Micah dragged her through the palace hallways, holding her just high enough so that she couldn’t catch her footing. Whispers greeted her ears as they passed groups of people milling around, but she refused to let them and their mixed comments of pity and criticism get to her.
They crossed the room in four long strides and roughly set her on a pale blue, shimmering, padded bench in the main sitting room. It was the kindest thing to touch her aching body in days… or was it weeks?
“Stay seated,” Micah ordered.
Crossing the room, he took his place next to the door across from her, his gaze boring into her.
Welcoming the relief, she did as instructed, wringing her hands in her lap as the silence between the three of them grew deafening.
Muted flat grays decorated the room, covering the beautiful crystal decor that had been around for centuries. Alton stood to her right, next to the fireplace, his stance wide and his fists clasped in front of him. His posture was perfect, as he faced straight ahead—ready to pounce at any given second, but she could feel the weight of his eyes on her, daring her to move. Seconds ticked by, then minutes.
