by Ava Walsh
“Hmm... not bad, Erdal. She’s a fine piece of work. As always, you have done a good job,” the king drawled in a deep, throaty voice. “I’m impressed.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Erdal said quietly. Her small, frail frame trembled as she knelt before the king. His chest constricted again, and he clenched his jaw. His hands turned into fists, knuckles turning white. What was wrong with him?
Don’t let her affect you like this, Erdal. You are losing it, the dark voice snarled.
“Erdal, I will put her in your care. Tell the women to start the preparations and get her ready,” Zutaar ordered.
“Yes, my lord.” Erdal bowed and pulled Natalie up to her feet. He led her away, but she could still feel the king’s eyes on her receding back.
“Er-Erdal? Where are you taking me?” she asked, stammering, once they were outside. She was still shaking.
“To the king’s harem,” he said, as he dragged her behind him. He stopped short and took off the shackles. The metal had already begun to cut through her wrists. “The women there will help you get ready for the wedding.”
“Erdal, I’m scared. Please do something. I... I can’t marry him,” she implored, as tears streamed down her face.
He led her down a stone path and crossed a garden, until they eventually reached a pair of heavily-carved wooden doors. He turned toward her and pulled her close to him, gazing deep into her eyes.
“Learn to please the king if you want to survive, woman. I have been assigned to take care of you. Behind this door is the harem. The women in there are the king’s wives. They will help you get ready. The wedding will be in a few days,” he explained.
“Okay,” she said, in a resigned voice, trying to compose herself as she took a deep breath.
“I have to go now,” he said, as he opened the door and led her inside. “Make sure your translator is working,” he said, and his fingers brushed her left ear as he checked the small, round device was secure.
The hallway was dimly lit and a fountain bubbled in the center. The sunlight streamed in through the skylight that lit up the foaming water. A woman shrouded in a dark gown came toward them.
“Zora, this is Natalie. The king wants her ready in three to four days. Get her settled. Teach her your ways. I’ll check in on you tomorrow,” he said to her, as she took Natalie’s hands. Her bony hands were cold as ice. She had a pale, gaunt face and she looked old. There was a look in her amber eyes that said she wasn’t too happy.
Erdal gazed at Natalie for a while and, for a second, she saw the sadness in his emerald gaze. She couldn’t tell for sure, though, as he was half hidden in the shadows, and her eyes were blurry with tears. With one last look at her, he turned and strode outside as the heavy doors closed behind him.
Natalie followed Zora down the hall toward the end of a large staircase. Zora led her upstairs and they walked down another hallway and reached the end where a pair of doors stood on their left. Zora took the badge which she wore on her arm and held it against the panel on the door. It unlocked with a ping. She stepped inside and Natalie followed.
“This will be your chamber from now on,” she said, as Natalie saw the small room with white walls.
The room was sparsely decorated, with only a single bed by the wall, a small dresser with a mirror and a door to the bathroom in the corner. She walked toward the window, which looked over the palace gardens.
“You will find the clothes and accessories in the wardrobe over there,” Zora said, pointing to the wall on her right.
“How many women live here?” Natalie asked.
“I have lost count. The women here are the ones who have survived over the years,” Zora said, as she left the room.
***
Over the course of next few days, Natalie found out more about the King’s women in the harem. They were all from different worlds, abducted and brought here for the king. They were all different. Some were blue-skinned, while the others had pale, green skin. Most of them were humanoid with only a few distinctive features. The only thing that seemed common in all of them was the resignation and despair in their eyes. “We have accepted our fate,” Zora told her one day. Natalie came to know that she was the oldest bride. She was also firmly told that the king had a bad temper and the only way to please him would be to quietly submit without resistance.
Chapter Five
Estion
It was the day before the wedding, and Natalie woke up shivering. She was burning up with fever and her whole body ached. She had been throwing up all morning.
Erdal would usually drop by to check in on her every day and that very day he found her in her chambers, still in bed and half-conscious as she moaned, shivering. He immediately rushed her to the palace infirmary, where Dr. Barca checked her thoroughly, took a sample of her blood and ran some tests.
“I want a complete report on her condition, doctor, ASAP, in my office,” Erdal said, in a firm voice.
“Sir, I will do my best,” he said, as Erdal left her in his care.
Two hours later, the doctor came into Erdal’s office with the report.
“I have news for you, my lord,” he said, his expression grave.
“Yes. Proceed,” Erdal said.
“The fever has gone down and she will be fine in a day or two. It’s viral. But there’s something else...” he said hesitantly.
“What is it?” Erdal said, his heart racing.
“She’s pregnant. Almost six weeks now,” Dr. Barca said.
“What?” he exclaimed, as he fought a wave of panic.
“Sir, I’m afraid it’s true. And one thing is for sure. The fetus is a hybrid: human and Darrenkar,” he said.
“I see,” Erdal said, clenching his fists as he tried to stay calm.
“I also ran the fetal DNA through our database and it matches yours,” he said cautiously.
“You keep this to yourself, Barca,” Erdal said, giving the doctor a serious look.
“Yes, sir,” the doctor said, and left the room.
Erdal slumped back in his chair behind the desk as multiple thoughts raced through his mind. He got up and walked toward the side cabinet and poured himself a glass of dark wine. He took a swig, draining his glass, and wiped his lips with a soft, linen cloth.
What will he do now? If the king found out about the pregnancy he would be doomed. And Natalie, poor woman, her fate would be no less cruel. He knew the King well and knew how he punished those who displeased him. He couldn’t blame anybody but himself. He clearly remembered the night he had held her. He could still smell her sweet, intoxicating scent, still feel her soft body against his, her soft curves, still taste her sweet taste... His eyes darkened at the thought and he closed his eyes, trying to think of a way out.
You have been a fool, Erdal. I had warned you... the dark voice in his head ridiculed him.
The same feeling tugged at his heart. He felt responsible for her, and the feeling gnawed at him. He had made a mistake and now he would have to face the consequences. He must find a way to make things right.
***
It was dark outside and he gazed at her sleeping form as he stood near her bed. With the fever gone, she seemed so peaceful. Her ivory skin glowed in the dim, golden light of the lamp, and her breathing was stable. He had the urge to touch her face with his fingertips, and feel her lips on his again.
Stop right there! Why do you care whether she lives or dies? She is human, Erdal. Her kind killed Kira, the dark voice said, in a sinister tone. You must carry out the King’s orders. No need to think too much.
The king had found out sooner than he had expected. The doctor had told him, no doubt out of fear of the consequences he might face when the King did find out that he hadn’t. The King was furious and, as punishment, he had demoted Erdal almost three levels. And he had ordered him to kill her...
He closed his eyes and tried to control his racing heart. The throbbing pain in his temples had returned.
Natalie stirred and her eyes fl
uttered 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 Viral. 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, as panic rose inside her. Her rosy lips quivered. Tears welled in her eyes, and she furiously blinked them away, wringing 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, in a quiet voice. His chest constricted terribly as her tear-filled, dark eyes accused him, and he felt the measure of her pain. His knuckles turned white on the hand that gripped the hilt of his dagger where it hung on 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, just as the ache in his heart did.
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 screamed at the voice in his head. He couldn’t kill her. How could he stab her frail body when she was already suffering? He saw 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 and beneath him.
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. And even before all this, somehow I couldn’t do it.”
“What? I... I don’t understand,” she said, confused.
“It’s inherent in our race that we can only impregnate the woman destined to be our true mate. The idea is considered 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 and he said 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 as 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, with quiet determination in his voice.
Chapter Six
Erdal rushed back to the palace, his mind racing. He held Natalie’s hand as she followed him. She wore a long, dark gown and a hooded robe so that her face wasn’t too visible, and she walked 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 and 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. He circled the wall, still holding Natalie’s hand, and 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, even as rage boiled 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, and no one ever made it out. They had stripped off his royal guard’s ensemble and now he only wore dark pants. His muscular chest was bare and his dark hair fell loose down his shoulders. He was nothing but a traitor whose fate they had 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 she wouldn’t survive it. His chest constricted as he clenched his jaw. This had to end. He unconsciously strained against the restraints as the metal cut through his skin and blood the color of dark blue ink oozed out. He must find a way. There was no time and 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.
It had to be the next morning when one of the prison guards dragged him out into the yard and tied his hands to the two wooden stakes set six feet apart, so he stood suspended. The sun bore down on him and he saw men and women gathered there, mostly slaves who served in the court and other royal guards. Orgus, a large, hulking man known as the one-eyed master executioner and punisher came out with a large whip in his hand.
Erdal’s left eye was swollen from the blow Orgus had given him when he asked him about Natalie that morning. His nose bled. His face was soiled with dirt and the dark blood dripped down his bare chest. His head ached with a throbbing that distracted him. He tried hard to gather his thoughts. He concentrated and read the punisher’s mind.
He
won’t be much fun, but I’d like to hear the woman cry, Erdal could hear him gloat.
Erdal’s breathing became labored as rage surged through his veins. His hands closed into fists, straining against the metal restraints. Sweat dripped from his brow and then he saw her.
One of the prison guards dragged Natalie out into the yard. Her hands and feet were in fetters. Her dress was in tatters, her ivory shoulders bare. Her face was pale and she looked as if she would swoon any moment. And 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. And now there was no way 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 clenched teeth. A futile attempt, but an attempt nonetheless.
He didn’t fear death. But there was something he felt for her. It was an emotion which made it unbearable for him to see her endure the torture that was about to be inflicted upon her fragile being.
“Shut up!” Orgus grunted, and flicked his large and ominous-looking whip. He flexed his arm and brought down the first lash, hard.
Erdal winced and clenched 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, and he could no longer take it. He screamed, the pain blocking everything else out.
