by Rosette Lex
She didn’t forget that she was stranded, that she was a captive, that she was being held there purely to use as a sperm repository at some nebulous point in the future. She didn’t forget that people she thought she could trust had launched her into the entire mess, or that she was being spied on like a caged lion.
It had surprised her that Que had been so willing to distract her without trying to turn it into something sexual, and she had appreciated it, but it hadn’t actually fixed any of her problems.
It was the middle of the afternoon, almost a full day after the hunting trip, and Vivienne lay on her bed and stared at the bland ceiling, one hand under her head and the other sitting lightly on her stomach.
Her mind wandered endlessly, to the past and to the future. Back and forth, her thoughts drifted ceaselessly, until the door slid open.
Que thundered into the room like an oncoming storm, a tornado waiting on the horizon. Vivienne didn’t even have time to react before he was kneeling on the bed, his knees framing her thighs and his hands pinning her shoulders to the mattress.
She stared up at him, eyes wide in surprise, and bit out, “Can I help you?”
“I would like to think so,” Que very nearly snarled, “but I’m beginning to have my doubts.”
He pressed her more forcefully against the mattress, his fingers digging into her shoulders.
“I have tried to be nice. I have tried to be civil and to win your favor. But I have seen the way the others look at you, and I know how they yearn for you to be theirs.” He shifted his legs, so his lower legs were pinning her knees.
“I will not let that happen.”
Vivienne thrashed viciously beneath him, writhing like a captured wildcat. Her back arched as she tried to buck him off, but to no avail.
“So ‘no’ really does mean nothing to you,” she spat, doing everything she could to keep her voice steady, even as terror began to build, pooling in her chest and her stomach like molten lead.
He scoffed.
“I have tried to earn a yes,” he snapped, “and that method seems rather slow and inefficient.”
He dug his fingers against her shoulders again, almost to the point of bruising.
“The fact remains that I could have you however and whenever I wanted, and you would not be able to do anything about it.” His expression seemed torn somewhere between a vicious glower and a triumphant grin.
“I would stab myself,” Vivienne informed him, with a voice as hard as steel and as cold as the mirror.
Que stilled, his grip on her shoulders loosening. “I beg your pardon?” he asked, in a voice gone carefully neutral.
“If luck was on your side and I became pregnant after just one attempt,” she continued, her words low and determined, “then I would stab myself in the stomach. I would cut it out of my belly and throw it at you, just so I could watch you mourn over it as I bled to death.”
They stared each other down, like buffalo facing off on the plains, neither one ready to give in.
Que gave in first. He sat back against Vivienne’s legs and after a moment, he managed a faintly disbelieving, “You would really do it, wouldn’t you? You would kill yourself.”
“If I could keep you from getting what you wanted from me?” Vivienne laughed harshly, and it felt and sounded like broken glass. “I would do it in a heartbeat.”
Without his hands pinning her shoulders, she could finally get enough leverage. She twisted sharply against the bed, dislodging him just enough for her to pull her legs out from under him.
Like some sort of eel, she squirmed away, twisting away from him to plant her feet on the floor. She lunged for the door, dodging away from Que’s grasp as he reached after her.
The door slid open, and Vivienne sprinted out. She followed the path to the stable, because from there she knew how to get outside. Her timing turned out to be impeccable, as she bolted out the stable doors just in time to see a transport lifting off of the ground.
She hopped up onto the back edge and curled her hands around a bar along the rear entrance, pressing herself to the back of the transport so she wouldn’t fall off. There was barely enough room for her feet, but she had balanced in more difficult places before, and anger and adrenaline made it easier.
She didn’t know where the transport was going, but she didn’t care. It was going away from Que, and for Vivienne, that was good enough.
When the transport turned towards the city’s distant silhouette, Vivienne couldn’t tell if she was relieved or apprehensive or both, but she clung onto the bar for all she was worth, even when her knuckles hurt and her arms grew stiff.
It was only once the transport reached the city that Vivienne began to worry about where she was going. While it was impossible to judge the city’s size from a distance, when she was riding along the streets of it and watching buildings and people pass by, it looked enormous.
Towering skyscrapers made of metal and crystal and spikes, and squat little one-story buildings made of stone, and everything in between. They passed by in a blur, mixed with men of every shape and size.
At last, the transport slowed to a stop, and Vivienne hopped off of the back and ran before she could be spotted.
She was away from Que. That was good. Less good was that she didn’t know her way around the city, she didn’t know how to get out of the city if things took a turn for the worst, she had no money or whatever the inari happened to use as currency, she had no food, she had no water, and as she slunk down the sidewalk with her arms folded defensively over her chest she was being eyed like a trespasser or a meal in shifts.
Vivienne was in over her head. No matter where she went, she was in over her head.
She kept her head low and kept to the shadows as much as she could, trying to stay invisible. If she could just keep to herself and make her way out of the city eventually, she would have to be able to find a stream or a lake or something, and no matter how weird the animals were, she imagined they would still die if she stabbed them hard enough with a sharp stick or if she hit them hard enough over the head with a rock.
She could do that. She could fend for herself. If she was going to be stuck here, maybe she could at least manage to do it on her own terms.
“Hey!”
The unfamiliar voice jerked Vivienne out of her thoughts, and her head whipped up to stare at the man.
Like every one of the inari seemed to be, he was strong, well-muscled, and attractive, though he was much paler than Que, he was a redhead rather than a blond, and he had more of a boyish look to his face.
He watched Vivienne expectantly and asked, “You need any help?”
Slowly, cautiously, Vivienne shook her head.
His brows rose and he held his hands up, as if to demonstrate that he was unarmed. Not that it meant much, considering he still looked like he could punch his way through a cement wall without much effort.
“I come in peace,” he said.
“You sure you don’t need anything?”
Vivienne paused and hugged her arms closer to herself. “Water?” she asked.
“If you have any.”
“I don’t,” he replied, his hands still raised in a silent ‘I won’t touch you.’
“But I can get you some if you come with me.” He let his hands drop and gestured for her to follow him.
“I’m Hel. There’s a shop just down this way.” He nodded towards Vivienne’s left. He took a step back, away from her, turned, and started walking.
Vivienne paused for a few seconds, and then followed him. If he was willing to offer her help, she would take it.
“What are you even doing here?” Hel asked, as he handed Vivienne a flask of water.
“You’re supposed to be at Fort Mallimae.”
Vivienne drank slowly from the bottle for a few moments before she replied. Rather than answer his question, she asked, “You know who I am?”
He snorted.
“Uh, yeah? Everyone on Treinire knows who you are
. Your arrival was sort of a big deal.”
Vivienne groaned and hid her face behind one hand. “Just perfect.”
Peering at him from between her fingers, she said, “Look, I’m grateful for the water and I don’t want to trouble you, but could you get me out of the city? If I can just disappear into the woods, I can take care of myself.”
Hel thought it over for a moment before he nodded.
“Alright. Follow me.”
They walked in silence for almost a full half hour before Vivienne finally asked, “So why are you helping me?”
Hel shrugged and answered, “My own reasons.”
Vivienne slowed, lagging behind him gradually. That answer didn’t exactly bode well. His own reasons could be anything.
“There’s a crowd around the corner,” Hel called to her.
“Come this way.” He nodded his head down a side street.
Vivienne ground to a halt. She couldn’t hear a crowd. She could only hear a few people. Hel was lying, and on this world where even honesty was typically unpleasant, lying was even worse.
When she didn’t start moving again, Hel jogged back to her.
“Come on,” he repeated more insistently, and he grabbed her wrist.
When Vivienne began to back away, Hel sighed in aggravation and pulled on her wrist with enough force that he nearly yanked Vivienne off of her feet. When she was stumbling and off balance, he shoved her down the side street and pinned her to the wall.
Vivienne opened her mouth and screamed as loud as she possibly could, until Hel slapped her across the face so hard that her ears rang from the blow.
“Shhh,” he crooned quietly, one finger pressed to Vivienne’s lips.
With her head still ringing and the world doing its best to turn sideways, Vivienne didn’t put up much of a fight at first as he yanked her makeshift belt off and used it to tie her wrists together.
He spun her around and pinned her to the wall, her cheek pressed to the wall. She squirmed and thrashed, her oversized pants sliding farther and farther down her hips with each movement until they eventually slid down her legs entirely.
“Well, that makes this easier,” Hel remarked wryly, as if he found the entire situation funny.
It was then that Vivienne distantly realized that she could hear some sort of commotion, quickly getting closer. Men shouting and swearing in surprise, as if they were being bowled out of the way. And then she heard a familiar barking noise and nearly sobbed in relief.
“Bai!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, causing Hel to withdraw slightly. The sound of rapid-fire footsteps soon became audible.
“What are you shouting about?” Hel groused, confusion thick around his words.
The crawler slammed into him at full speed, ripping Hel away from Vivienne and sending him skidding across the ground. Mouth open wide, Bai screamed in Hel’s face like a vengeful banshee.
As Bai began tearing into Hel with teeth and claws, Vivienne haphazardly pulled up her pants as best she could with her hands still bound, and she slid down the wall until she was seated on the ground.
With her arms and legs pulled in close to her chest, she dropped her head down to hide her face against her knees and sobbed.
“Bai. Enough.”
She knew it was Que’s voice, but she didn’t look up.
Bai grumbled reluctantly, but the sounds of carnage ceased and she heard him rustle his feathers and click his claws together as he fidgeted restlessly.
Vivienne opened her eyes in alarm when she heard someone walking towards her, and when she saw Que reaching for her, she flailed her hands out to slap his arm away, and she huddled into as small of a ball as she could. Que recoiled in surprise.
Slowly, Bai stepped over and hunkered down in front of her, his legs folded under him like a massive, roosting bird. He trilled and crooned quietly, and prodded at Vivienne with the end of his nose. He nudged at her hands and nibbled at the cloth around her wrists, until he caught it with one tooth and tore it.
Hands free, Vivienne laid one against the crawler’s cheek, fingers idly running through the short, fuzzy facial feathers. She stared into the four, jewel-like gold eyes and brought her other hand up to stroke both sides of Bai’s face.
As if she was lulling herself into some sort of trance, her breathing evened out. Eventually, her hands still cupped around Bai’s face, she looked up at Que and informed him evenly, “I’m ready to go back to Mallimae.”
Que nodded mutely and offered her a hand up.
Chapter Six
There was at least one comforting thing about Fort Mallimae. Everyone there knew that if they touched Vivienne, Que would not be pleased, and they all seemed to hold Que in some sort of esteem. It was comforting, in a strange sort of way, knowing that she would only have to deal with one man hounding her.
Hours after they returned from the city—after Bai had been returned to the stable, Vivienne had been given new clothes, and Que and Vivienne had gone their separate ways—Vivienne’s skin still crawled.
She tried to simply keep to herself for the rest of the evening, but her mind kept returning to what had almost happened on that side street.
Eventually, before her own thoughts could drive her crazy, Vivienne stepped out of her room. She stood outside the door and waited and as soon as she saw someone coming down the hall, she all but accosted him, stepping in front of him and jabbing a finger at his face. It took her a moment to recognize him as the man who usually delivered things to her room.
“You’re going to show me where Que sleeps. It’s late, I’m tired, I’ve had an awful day, and if you argue with me, I will make you miserable as creatively as I can.”
Whatever sort of expression she had on her face, the young man actually looked nervous because of it. To his credit, he didn’t argue. He simply nodded once, turned, and started walking again.
Once she was standing outside of Que’s door, she hammered one fist against it until he opened it. He stared at her, looking marginally perplexed.
“This seems backwards,” he commented after a moment.
Hands on either side of the doorframe to keep it from sliding closed on her, Vivienne stated, “You let me go earlier. You let me run.”
“Yes,” Que confirmed slowly.
“I didn’t expect you to make it all the way to Crystallocke, though.”
“Why?” Vivienne asked. “Why did you let me go?”
“Does it actually matter?” Que asked, sounding faintly surly.
“Yes,” Vivienne answered emphatically.
“So just answer the question. Why did you let me go?”
Que huffed out an irritated sigh, and when he spoke, it sounded like the words were being reluctantly pulled out, one by one.
“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he admitted, his tone quiet and almost sulky.
Vivienne considered his answer carefully for a moment before she stepped into the room, finally letting the door slide closed behind her. The room was largely the same as hers, albeit with a larger bed and a few personal items scattered about.
She placed her hands on Que’s chest and shoved, walking him backwards towards the bed.
“You are going to make me forget about today,” she informed him, her tone brooking no argument.
“Because if you don’t, I’m going to keep thinking about it and I’m going to start screaming. No one here wants that to happen.”
Que didn’t argue. He grabbed her hips and slid his hands down, over her ass, to grab the backs of her thighs and pick her up, as if she weighed nothing at all.
Vivienne wrapped her legs around his waist and that time, she kissed him, her tongue tracing the seam of his lips until they parted.
They fell back onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, hands stroking over skin and hips rutting together. Vivienne sprawled out on her back, Que straddling her hips.
Vivienne began tugging at the buttons of Que’s pants as he began undoing the laces of her shirt. The buttons gave w
ay and Vivienne shoved the pants down far enough for Que to simply kick them off.
As he continued pulling at the laces of her shirt, she began untying his, hands working much more quickly than his, so that they finished at the same time. As Que leaned back to shrug his shirt off, Vivienne sat up and squirmed out of hers so she could toss it over the side of the bed.
Que popped the button of Vivienne’s pants and she lifted her hips to let him tug them down. Free of the pants, she pulled her sports bra off, freeing her breasts and lying back down flat on the bed.
