Her Two Wolves

by T. S. Ryder

  ***

  She hurried after him, barely keeping up, as he held the chains of the shackles binding her delicate wrists. He wondered why she hadn’t protested when he put those shackles on her trembling hands before they had entered the great palace halls.

  The palace was gigantic. Huge, dark columns lined both sides of the walls. The floor was burnished marble with intricate gold, white, and black geometrical patterns joined together harmoniously. Tall, narrow arched windows lined both sides of the hallway, sunlight lighting the way. A skylight ran all the way from one end of the ceiling to the other.

  They reached two grand doors and entered a large hall. The throne room was decorated similarly to the grand hallway outside.

  King Zutaar sat on the grand marble and gold throne. Erdal stood before him and bowed before leading Natalie forward.

  “On your knees, woman,” Erdal ordered, in a cold, hard voice.

  Natalie was on her knees. A few steps led up to the king’s throne. She looked up and gasped as the king’s cold, silver-gray eyes seared into hers. Shuddering, she started trembling. He was a huge, hulking man who eyed her, head tilted. He wore dark clothes and a strange, silver armor on his arms. His pale-gray skin and silver-white hair were unfamiliar. But what unnerved her the most was the look in his eyes. They held the dark gleam of madness... She blinked rapidly and looked down at her hands as her heartbeat intensified. He looked her up and down. She felt him undressing her with his steely, lewd eyes and blood rose to her cheeks. Tears threatened to escape the backs of her eyes, thus she dared not look up again.

  “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, his jaw clenched. 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 once they were outside, stammering. She was still shaking.

  “To the king’s harem,” he said, dragging her behind him. He stopped short and took off the shackles. The metal had already begun to cut into her delicate 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, his fingers brushing her left ear as he checked that the small, round device was secure.

  The hallway was dimly lit and a fountain bubbled in the center. Sunlight streamed in through a 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 the woman as she took Natalie’s hands in her own. Her bony fingers were cold as ice. She had a pale, gaunt face and looked old. There was a look in her amber eyes that screamed unhappiness.

  Erdal let himself look at Natalie for one long moment and, for just a second, she saw sadness in his emerald gaze. She couldn’t tell for sure, though. He was half hidden in the shadows and her eyes were blurry with tears. With one last glance, he turned and paced 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 until they reached a pair of doors. Zora took a badge from 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 took in the small room and its 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 a bathroom in the corner. She walked toward the window overlooking the palace gardens.

  “You will find 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, yet each was abducted and brought here for the king’s pleasure. None were alike. Some were blue-skinned, some green-skinned, and some were yet another hue. Most of them were humanoid with only a few distinctive features. The common ground they all shared 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 informed 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 a 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, in my office ASAP,” 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, fighting 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 would 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 and how he punished those
who displeased him all too well. 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 them, 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 played with his heartstrings. 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 as he stood near her bed, gazing at her sleeping form. 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… To 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 sinisterly. You must carry out the King’s orders. No need to think too much.

  The king found out sooner than Erdal had expected. The doctor had told him, no doubt out of fear of the consequences he might face if he hadn’t. The King was furious and, as punishment, he had demoted Erdal almost three levels. Moreover, 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 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 gloat.

  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.