by Sara Page
“Get a hold of yourself,” Vrillum snaps at me and chases me down the hall. I almost make it to the doors of the medical ward when he grabs me by the arms and spins me around.
“Get your hands off me,” I cry out and try to shove him away.
“Relax, Ameia, relax,” Vrillum says, his voice soft and soothing though his fingers dig deep into my skin.
I shake my head, my blonde curls swaying in front of my eyes. I feel the searing pain against my cheek before I realize the cause.
“Ow,” I cry out.
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Vrillum immediately apologizes. He takes a step back, dropping his hand from my arm.
I lift my hand and press it to my cheek. My cheek feels warm.
“You slapped me,” I say accusingly and glare at Vrillum through the tears stinging my eyes.
Vrillum lifts his chin and squares his shoulders. “You’re having an episode. You need to calm down.”
I can’t believe he’s doing this again. When I went up with Vrillum in that ship on my birthday, I got quite nervous and asked him to bring me back down. He got so angry with me… He slapped me and accused me of acting like a baby. When I started crying, he apologized only to somehow twist it as if I was the one overreacting and he was just doing me a favor.
“Of course I’m freaking out! That doesn’t give you a reason to hit me!”
Vrillum’s jaw clenches and he grinds out, “Damn it, Ameia, I’m just trying to help!”
“Well, I don’t want your help,” I say, swiping the tears away and trying very hard not to sound like a petulant child.
“If I don’t help you, who will?”
How can that one question steal all the wind right out of my sails?
I hesitate a second too long.
Vrillum nods as if I just proved his point. “I’m all you have left.”
I shake my head. “I have Drek,” I say but even to me it sounds weak as if I don’t truly believe it. “And Striker.”
Vrillum arches a brow, “Oh? Are they going to remain here, helping you rule?”
I haven’t even thought about that. In fact, I’ve been trying very hard to not think of it at all. I don’t know what Beast wants because I’m afraid of what he wants. What if it’s something I can’t give him? What if it’s something he tries to take from me against my will?
“I don’t know,” I say softly and look towards the doors. Beast and Striker could very well not be on the other side. No doubt they’re extremely pissed off that I left them, I know I would be. Maybe they left. Maybe they’re gone. Maybe all Beast wanted to do was safely see me home.
“I’ll help you, Ameia,” Vrillum murmurs while taking another step towards me. “If you let me.”
I look back to him and stare into his emerald eyes. He seems so honest, so sincere.
When he touches me it feels like my skin is crawling with bugs.
“How will you help me?” I ask. How far will he go?
Vrillum reaches for me and it takes every ounce of self-control I possess to keep from flinching away. His fingers stroke against the cheek he just slapped. His lips twitch as if he wants to smile. “I’ll take care of you. I’ll help you rule.”
I suck in a sharp breath, count to ten then breathe the breath out. “You want to marry me?”
Vrillum nods and smiles. “It’s the King’s will.”
No, just no.
“Am I not already promised to another?” I ask, grasping and racking my brain for a way out of this conversation he’s trapping me in.
Vrillum shakes his head. “You were lost before it could be declared.”
“Who was it?”
Vrillum’s eyes narrow. “It hardly matters now.”
I shrug my shoulders, he’s right but I’m still curious. Then it hits me. The true question I’ve been dying to ask. “Why did you tell everyone I was dead? You put me in an escape pod.”
Vrillum frowns and pulls back. “I believed you were dead.”
“Why?” I press.
“We couldn’t locate your signal.”
Now it’s my turn to narrow my eyes. “What happened to the slavers?”
Vrillum only glares right back at me, “Admiral Yarkof shot them down.”
I sigh and Vrillum’s glare grows angrier. “You don’t trust me.”
Of course I don’t trust him but I bite my tongue, knowing better than to say that out loud.
“Do you trust them?” Vrillum asks, his head jerking angrily towards the door.
I press my lips together. I don’t want to answer. I don’t know how to answer. I trust them but then I don’t.
Vrillum shakes his head then his lips twitch again. Why is he fighting his smile?
“The ugly one called you his.”
I almost laugh at that. Striker? He’s the ugly one? I wonder what he thinks of Beast.
“You think this is funny?”
“Of course not,” I huff out.
“Are they bothering you? Should I have them escorted off the planet?”
Can Vrillum do that? He’s behaving as if he can. I’ll need to check into what authority he’s been given since my father’s been injured.
The thought of Beast leaving, the thought of truly having no one else but Vrillum seriously freaks me the fuck out. “No,” I say quickly, too quickly.
Vrillum scowls.
“It’s complicated but they’re here to help me, honestly. If it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t even be here right now.”
“So what do you want to do, Ameia?” Vrillum asks.
If only I had an answer. Right now, I feel too stupid to figure all of this stuff out. I need a shower, I need some food, and I need to sleep. Too much has happened. My brain is crapping out. I need to get in touch with the council. I’ll need to figure out who can be trusted and who can start an investigation into Vrillum. I need to block his access to my father, but I’ll need some evidence.
Whatever strength I’ve been holding on to is gone. The will to stand on my own slips away. My shoulders roll forward and I slump back against the wall with a muffled thud. It’s not defeat, it’s not. I’m just tired, so tired and there’s so much to be done.
I look past Vrillum, towards the room where my father is. I don’t even know his prognosis. I don’t even know if he’s expected to live or how much time he has left. I look back to Vrillum. He’s still frowning at me like he doesn’t know what do with me. It’s too late to ask him about my father now. I’ll come back later, I decide, when no one else is around. I’ll speak to the doctors and to the guards.
I need answers and I can’t trust half the shit that comes out of Vrillum’s mouth.
“You look tired,” Vrillum finally says, stating the obvious. “You should get some rest.”
I nod, agreeing with him but have to ask. “Do I still have a room?”
I’ve been dead for two weeks or so. All my stuff could be gone.
Vrillum nods. “Yes, your room is just as you left it. I wouldn’t let them clean it out.”
Thank the stars for small mercies.
I straighten from the wall. Vrillum steps back, giving me room to move. I lift my chin, tuck my curls behind my ears, and prepare to head out. My cheek still simmers from the slap. I hope whatever mark Vrillum left has faded by now. I’ll find a way, later, for him to pay for it.
“Ameia?” Vrillum asks, reaching out to stop me as I try to walk past him.
“Yes?” I ask, hoping he asks whatever he wants quickly. I feel like I’m fading fast. I hope I still have enough strength to make it to my room.
“I’ll give you a couple of days to sort things out with your friends,” Vrillum says, spitting the last word out like it leaves a bad taste in his mouth.
Oh?
“Then what?” I sigh and pull away from his grasp, already knowing his answer is going to be fucked up.
“Then they have to go.”
“They’re heroes, Vrillum. I’m alive thanks to them.” I’m quite attached to o
ne of them, even. If he’s still around. “We can’t just kick them out.”
Vrillum nods almost as if he agrees with me. I turn to open the door.
“But they’re Ravagers, Ameia,” he says and my heart stops. “Don’t you think it would be best for everyone if they go?”
* * *
Vrillum’s words ring in my ears as I pull open the doors and walk out. Don’t you think it would be best for everyone if they go? I don’t know how to answer him so I don’t.
He’s not right, he can’t be right. But with all the complications their presence brings he’s not exactly wrong either.
Complications. Beast and Striker are big, dark, sexy complications. But they’re also, well Beast at least, the best thing I have going for me right now.
Beyond the double doors I’m greeted by a wall of golden, gleaming armor. The King’s Guard still stand elbow to elbow. They’re so motionless, so statue-like, I wouldn’t be surprised if they haven’t moved the entire time I’ve been in the medical ward.
Beyond the golden line I glimpse the black obsidian. Then, standing heads above the rest, two pairs of red eyes zero in on me.
It’s an immediate relief. I was afraid they wouldn’t still be here.
“Excuse me,” I say as I push through the golden line. The line breaks only long enough for me to get through.
“Ameia,” Beast rumbles and takes a step forward. He doesn’t look pissed, but it’s really hard to tell what he’s feeling with that freaky helmet on his head, so I just assume he is.
After what just happened, I feel like a giant asshole. I should have figured out some way to bring them with me. If I hadn’t left Beast behind, Vrillum wouldn’t have been able to accost me. Vrillum wouldn’t have been able to act as if he’s the one in charge.
I wouldn’t have fled like a coward.
Lesson learned.
“I’m sorry,” I say. It’s not enough but it’s all the apology I have in me, especially right now. “If you’ll follow me,” I go on, extremely aware that we’re surrounded by watchful eyes. I have no doubt that there’s at least one person spying on us. “I’m tired and would like to retire to my room.”
I square my shoulders and turn, hoping Beast and Striker will follow me. I walk down the hallway that will lead me back to the palace proper. A couple of seconds later I hear their loud, booming footsteps following close behind me. I’m so relieved my knees almost buckle.
I just have to make it to my room. I urge myself on through the exhaustion. One step in front of the other. You can stop when you get there. You can break in private.
The hallways have been cleared of people, but the remains of my frantic search still litter the floors. There are broken plates, cracked vases and stomped flowers. Full baskets of linens and cleaning supplies have been abandoned. Carts of plates and food have tipped over and grown cold. It seems as if the servants were ordered to drop everything, literally, and were removed.
Or they ran away in fear.
Who could blame them? Not only does the dead princess appear, but she appears with two Ravagers tearing down the hallways on her heels. I was in such a hurry, I didn’t even get a good look at the place. I’m home, home. Why don’t I feel relieved?
Though the floors of the hallways are littered with abandoned debris, they still sparkle and gleam, smooth and polished from years of wear but meticulously maintained. The tiles are rumored to be from Old Earth, a white stone with dark veins called marble. The palace is full of relics brought with my ancestors as they laid claimed to this colony, a sort of museum and treasure trove.
Thick spiraling columns flank the doorways and the walls are made of a white stone that is engrained with elaborate golden patterns. The entire building itself is considered antique. An old monstrosity when compared to the rest of our civilized capitol city of skyways and skyscrapers that are made up of metals and vibrant lights. Considered a national treasure, the palace has long been sectioned off from the rest of the city, and the technology permitted has been limited, in fear that it would irreparably damage the infrastructure. Thus there are no motorized walkways, flying security droids or cleaning robots. Here we do like Old Earth did. Even if it sucks.
By the time we reach the door to my room there’s no one to witness me inviting Beast and Striker into my room, alone. So I just pull open my door and wave them inside. Surprisingly, Striker is the first to walk into the darkness. Beast follows. I step inside, slam the door behind me and flip on the lights.
“Beast,” I breathe out and lean back against my door.
It smells like my room, it looks like my room. I should be happy, but all I feel is dread and foreboding.
Even here, in my sanctuary, with my pink walls and all the comforts of my childhood surrounding me, I feel uneasy. I don’t feel the least bit safe. I have two fearsome Ravagers to protect me, but what are they against the guard? How can they possibly protect me against all of Terrea’s army? How can I protect them?
Striker stomps around my room, inspecting it. There’s something about him picking up my teddy bears and slamming them around that just doesn’t sit right with me. I almost want to tell him to stop, stop touching my things, but I’m tired. I’m too tired to keep snapping at him, too tired to pick a fight. So as he shoves my stuff around as if it’s junk to him and not my treasures, I just sigh.
Beast turns towards me after looking over the room and cocks his crowned head.
I reach back, my hands fumbling behind me. I find the lock and twist it. I wouldn’t put it past Vrillum to get pissed off when he discovers I’m alone with them and storm in here. I have no delusions of the lock stopping him or anyone else for the matter, but it should at least buy us an extra second or two.
“Remove your helmet, Beast,” I request softly. “Please.”
There’s not a moment of hesitation, Beast reaches up and yanks the helmet off his head. His black hair sticks straight up, and it only makes him look that more sinister. Now that I can see his face, Beast looks extremely pissed off. I swallow the lump of fear in my throat and focus my eyes on his forehead. His eyes are burning into me. There’s no way I can meet his glare.
“Remove your breastplate,” I request next. “And your gauntlets.”
Beast drops his helmet to the floor and I flinch as it thuds. Next come the gauntlets, torn off and dropped. The breastplate gives him a bit more trouble, but silently, almost angrily Beast removes it from his upper torso. It too ends up discarded on the floor.
“Anything else, my princess?” Beast asks without anger or even irritation. He asks as if he accepts I have decided to dominate him or something. I hate it.
“Yes,” I answer and then I push away from the door and run for him. I lift my arms to him and he gathers me up. I wrap myself around his body, my arms curling around his neck and my legs locking around his waist.
I need this. I need him. I’m so damn weak.
“Ameia,” Beast purrs and his chest vibrates.
I nuzzle my face into his throat and ask him to, “Please, just hold me.”
I don’t know how long we stand there, just holding each other but soon I start to feel immensely better. I’m still exhausted, it’s taking serious effort to keep my eyes open, but having Beast’s skin against my skin, being able to touch him and him touching me just lifts some weight inside me I didn’t even realize I was carrying.
Eventually Beast starts to move, walking with me. I peek one eye open to see that he’s carrying me towards my bed. My giant fluffy bed with all its pink and white ruffles and pillows. Afraid that he might drop me or try to set me down and abandon me, my hold on Beast tightens.
I whisper against his warm, purple flesh, “Don’t let me go.”
“Never,” Beast soothes me. He sits down on the edge of the bed then his heavy hand strokes down my back. Tiny jolts of sensation travel my spine.
This is just what I need, him touching my skin. Him holding me, promising to protect me. If I could have him take care of
this entire mess I would. I bet he’s much more capable.
“The room appears to be secure,” Striker grumbles, reminding me of his presence. I wish he wasn’t here. I wish it were just Beast and me, alone.
As I nuzzle against Beast’s neck, soaking up strength from him, I can’t help but be aware of Striker pacing my room like a caged animal.
“Sit down,” Beast orders Striker.
Striker makes a frustrated sound and something thumps. “We should leave. We’re not safe here.”
My throat constricts as I think of Vrillum’s words. Should I tell them to go? Are they not safe? Would Beast leave even if I begged him too?
“Relax, my princess,” Beast purrs and nuzzles his face against my neck. I feel him breathe deep, scenting my hair. “You’re safe with me.”
I’m not the one in danger.
I shiver.
“Ameia?” Beast asks, concerned. I feel him pull away. Then he’s pushing at my shoulders and brushing back my curls. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
I fight it. I don’t want to look at him. I don’t want him to know. I can’t say: Vrillum wants to marry me. Just thinking it makes me want to completely lose my shit and fucking freak.
“Ameia,” Beast says more firmly and grabs me by the chin.
I sigh and peer at him through the fringe of my lashes. He’s not going to let this go. I’ll have to find something else to say.
“Is it possible you jumped through the wrong wormhole?”
Striker bursts into laughter.
Beast’s eyes glow so vibrantly his purple face turns red. “It’s not possible.”
I was hoping he would admit it was possible but there’s still another option. “Perhaps you took a wrong turn and we ended up in the wrong dimension?”
Striker’s laughter only grows. I don’t know why he finds this so amusing.
Beast growls, “Not possible.”
I feel my lip trembling. Shit. I was hoping this wasn’t my reality, that there was a mistake and it could be changed.
Beast’s grip on my chin loosens. “Why do you ask? What’s wrong?”
I feel a tear escape my eye and angrily swipe it away. “Everything. Everything is wrong.”
