Sold to the Alien Prince

by Viki Storm

  A torn fingernail. The girl who was chained in here before me. Struggling and clawing to escape. I wonder how long he kept her in here. I wonder where he got her. What he did to her…

  I have to get out of here.

  Obviously.

  I feel the rod and it’s fixed tight, molded into the wall in one piece, no brackets or bolts for me to rip my fingernails trying to detach.

  Out in the main rooms, I hear the whoosh of a door opening. More voices. More conspirators. Laughter. The sleaze Teda didn’t tell the raspy-voiced mastermind that I was locked in the closet. That just goes to show how confident he is of dethroning Xalax and hanging him for a traitor. Stealing the Crown Prince’s mate might be the most heinous crime for one Zalaryn male to commit against another, but he fears no reprisals.

  I hear the door whoosh shut and then footsteps towards the closet. My heart is beating so fast I hope for a heart attack. At least that would be a quick death compared to the horrors in store for me tonight.

  A key rattles in the old iron lock. The door opens and the light is too bright, my eyes having adjusted to the dark.

  “You took his human mate?” someone says. I don’t recognize the voice and I’m still blinded by the light and cannot see.

  “This uppity little whelp is going to learn a lesson,” Teda says. “Aren’t you?” he says. I am cowering in the corner, nothing in my hand except the jagged fingernail of his last victim.

  “Who does she think she is?” one of the other males says. I can see now but I don’t recognize either of them. “Walking around the fortress, contaminating our sacred statues with her dirty human hands.”

  “She doesn’t know her place in our society,” Teda says. “Isn’t that right?” he kicks at me, the toe of his boot connecting with the fleshy part of my leg. I scream out and they all laugh at me. “Well that’s okay, because we’re going to teach you a lesson. There’s only one reason we bring you weak little humans to our planet. One. Reason. Only.” He speaks these last words slowly, and while he does, he toes his boot between my legs, trying to prod at my sex. I clench my legs together tightly, deflecting his blows.

  “Feisty,” one of the other males says. “You’re right, Teda, she really does need to learn some obedience.”

  I remember one of my grandmother’s stories she often told about the war. One of her friends was being attacked by a Kraxx raiding party. She was hiding under the bed when they pulled her out by her ankles. She was on the floor, screaming, and they were making jokes about who got to go first. They were cocky, those bastards, and that was their downfall, my grandmother said. How drunk she was affected how explicit the rest of the story was, but the friend of hers apparently hooked her leg around their ankles, pulling them off balance and making them fall to the floor. Then, she grabbed one of their weapons off their belts and used it to start smashing at their genitalia. Squished their balls with the butt of the weapon like an apothecary grinding herbs with his pestle.

  Only hope I have. I don’t think. I scream a loud and deep battlecry, like Xalax says all Zalaryn warriors scream while they charge at the enemy. Throws them off guard, he says, summons your inner strength.

  And maybe he’s right, because even though I’ve been stripped and caged, even though I’m completely outnumbered, I feel like I might actually have a chance. I sweep my leg across the floor, bending my knee and hooking two of the aliens’ ankles. I pull my leg back and whoop triumph as they fall to the floor. One is Teda. I reach for his anankah and pull it free. I am not interested in activating it, the electro-magnetic field that sends pulse-waves of heat and force to the enemy. That would take too long.

  I’m interested in squishing. Smashing. With a little luck, rupturing.

  I bring the anankah down, pistoning it, driving it down. Teda turns at the last second, but I connect with his stomach. This is a real blow. Not like my foolish little kick earlier. He makes a gasping, sucking sound, like a fish on the deck of the boat. He’s temporarily immobilized. I rear up the anankah and bring it down again, but in my panicky eagerness I manage only to squish a little bit of skin from the inside of his thigh. He screams satisfyingly, however, and I know that must have hurt a great deal. I see blood starting to spread.

  There’s no time to think, I turn to the other alien who’s scrambling to charge his own anankah. But that is a mistake. Xalax told me that they need a minimum of 10011 seconds and while I still don’t know what that number is or how long a damned second is on this planet with it’s bizarre orbit around the binary suns, I know he doesn’t have enough time to charge it. I stab it down and connect with his shoulder. He winces but I can tell that I did not hurt him. I raise my arms again for another blow, when I feel strong hands clamp around my wrists.

  One of the conspirators pulls me to my feet and twists my arms behind my back, pulling my wrists up painfully towards my shoulders. I shriek and he pulls them up higher. The pain is intense but I focus all my energy on not screaming out. I do not want to give them the satisfaction.

  Teda is scrambling to a standing position, but I can tell that it pains him to do so.

  “I was wrong about you,” he said. “You have a little bit of spirit.”

  “What do you want me to do with her?” the alien holding me says.

  “Get her arms in those shackles,” Teda instructs, pointing to the closet. “We were going to have a little fun with you,” Teda says to me. He hobbles towards me, the blood on his pants spreading into a bigger stain. “You might have even liked it, once we got you warmed up. But now you’re going to beg me to fuck you, just so I’ll stop cutting.”

  He pulls a knife from his waist-pouch. The metal is an odd, shimmery blue that seems to glow in the light. The haft is ornately carved of some white stone and I wonder briefly if it is perhaps the bone of a slain foe.

  “Hold on,” one of the conspirators says. “Let us have a turn before you bloody her up, while she’s still soft and pink.”

  “I suppose it would be a waste not to enjoy her while she still has both her eyes,” Teda says. He brings his knife close to my face. “But one of you go get her robe in the corridor.” He points to the soft robe that he stripped from my body.

  “Here,” one of the conspirators says as he hands it to Teda.

  “Good,” Teda says. “Both of you, hold her still. I’m going to cut out this bitch’s tongue. Cram that robe into her mouth after I’m done. I don’t want to get blood on me.”

  He grabs my face, pinching above my jaws, forcing my mouth open. I try to clench it shut but I can’t.

  The knife catches the light and reflects it in my eyes so I cannot see anything. I close my eyes and try to stop the terror. Try to stop myself from screaming.

  But I know in that, I am going to fail.

  My comm-panel beeps as I pilot my vehicle through the empty capitol streets. I cannot stop to look at it. Every second that I let it distract me is another second that Resa is in that slimy, evil villain’s grasp. I’m fairly certain it’s either Droka or Ayvinx sending me the message. I sent them up to the chambers of the High Merchant to arrest him for treason.

  High Merchant Noxu, the councilor who always smiles and agrees with me during our sessions, he was the one plotting behind my back with the Kraxx.

  I can only hope that my comm-panel is beeping because Droka wants to tell me that they have that treacherous cretin in a dank dungeon cell.

  I find my way to Teda’s dwelling. I leave my vehicle in the road and jump out. My anankah is charged. My only fear is that in my anger I will give him too quick a death.

  The door to his dwelling is sealed, but I do not need the passcode. I point my anankah at it and deploy the button. A ripple travels up my arm as I feel the burst of energy leave the end of my weapon. The air warps and seems to bend as the shockwave fires forth, colliding with the door and bursting it open. A giant hole is blown through the door and I duck to enter.

  I see them.

  There are three.

  And
my dear sweet obsidian beauty is shackled to a ceiling bar like a dloree about to be carved by the butcher.

  One of them is holding her around the waist, her fine robe dangling from his fist. The other is gripping her head, holding it still as she tries to thrash out of their grasp.

  And then there is Teda. He is holding his knife in one hand and trying to pry open her jaw with the other.

  I cannot fire my weapon without also catching Resa in the blastwave. I loop it back on my belt and run, screaming from the depths of my soul.

  I leap upon them, my arms pumping. With one strike, I feel Teda’s arm bone snap with a delicious crunch. Music to my ears. He staggers back, dropping his knife and clutching his wounded arm. Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpse that it’s now bent at an extremely unnatural angle.

  The other two males are wide-eyed with stunned horror. They have both relinquished their grip on Resa, but they are backed into the same closet that she is. Trapped. I take my anankah and jab it against one of the bastard’s stomachs and push the button. There is a soft thwump sound as the energy blast goes through his body. He stands tall for one last second then crumples like a child’s sand-sculpture in a high wind.

  The other one is cowering in the corner, begging for his life. I don’t spare him a look. I push my weapon to his chest and push the button.

  I take Resa in my arms, savoring the feel of her body against mine. She does not appear to be wounded. Physically at least. “Are you safe?” I ask.

  “I am now,” she says.

  I feel our bond stronger than ever, my protective instincts blotting out all other rational thoughts. They have not assaulted her. I can feel it. Our bond is strong and true. She is my mate and I have her back in my arms.

  And the one who stole her from me is cowering at my feet.

  “I am so sorry,” I whisper in her ear. But I have no time to wait for her reply. It pains me to release her from my protective embrace, but I cannot risk Teda slithering away like the reptoid that he is.

  I turn to him and he’s doing just that. Trying to get to his feet, but without two good arms to steady himself he is having trouble.

  I kick him in the back, my heavy boot connecting with his spine. This is not a kick meant to get his attention or topple him back to the ground. I kick with all my force and feel a click as something shifts inside Teda’s body. His bones, his internal organs, I don’t care. All I care about is his exquisite scream of agony.

  He’s getting off easy. The pain he feels right now is nothing compared to the pain that eclipsed my soul when Droka showed me our security recording of Teda knocking her out and dragging her to the docking bay.

  I take my comm-panel out of my pocket and read the message from Droka.

  Damned void. The High Merchant is not in his chambers at the fortress. His personal craft is gone from the docking bay.

  “Where is Noxu?” I growl. “Has he gone off-planet yet?”

  Teda laughs and a gurgle of blood erupts from his mouth in a sickening spurt. “What makes you think I’m going to tell you?” he rasps.

  “Because I will shove my anankah down your throat and give you little blasts until your eyeballs explode and your chest implodes. It might take a long time if I turn the setting low enough. Might take several neus.”

  “Do what you will,” Teda says. “My life is forfeit. I can accept that. I have principles, unlike you.”

  “Principles,” I scoff. I take my weapon from my belt and dial the electro-magnet down to the lowest setting. It’s enough power to stun a small animal, and I wasn’t bluffing when I said it was going down his throat. A blast every ten minutes would rupture his organs, one by one. “You broker a deal with the Kraxx. You give them our humans? The ones we need to bear our children and ensure the survival of our race? You give them our protein, though it is always in short supply. You conspire to commit treason against the High Throne. Then, just for fun, just because you have a personal grudge, you kidnap and terrorize an innocent human. You stole another male’s mate—it is my legal right to kill you however I see fit, never mind all of your other treasonous crimes.”

  “I did what I did to ensure the survival of our race,” he spits. “A handful of humans or a few cargo-loads of protein is but a drop in an endless ocean. Those things are replaceable. Our spirit is not. That is what makes the Zalaryns strong. Children on other planets scare each other with tales of Zalaryn raids. Men hoard weapons for fear of having to fend off an invasion of Zalaryn warriors. That is what makes us. And weaklings like you seek to destroy our spirit—our essence. Mating with humans? Bonding with them? That’s disgusting. They should all be in breeding camps like the old times, and any strong male should be able to go in and copulate with one because he earned the right by defending his planet. Negotiating with the soft and foolish Fendans over their minerals? When your grandfather was king, he would have vaporized their decadent planet and had all their minerals plus whatever resources were leftover. The Fendans are unworthy of their lives if they cannot protect them. Your father was a fool. He didn’t understand real power. All he wanted was a strong cup of freykka and a different whore in his bed every night. We thought you were much the same. It was good. We had already started plans. Imagine how frustrating it was when you showed up to the High Council Chamber thinking you were a real ruler. We altered our plans just a little, planting those messages on your comm-panel. My only regret is that I’m not going to be able to see the look on your face when the Kraxx warlord lands on our planet and praises you as an ally to his people.”

  “You sicken me,” I say. I put my foot on his neck and force the business end of my weapon into his mouth and push the button. It is a low-force wave, but the blood trickles out of his ears immediately. His eyes bulge. I smell the foul odor of his excrement as he soils himself. I take the weapon out of his mouth. “Where is High Merchant Noxu?”

  “He’s gone,” Teda chokes. His good hand creeps up to his chest and his face contorts with agony. Void, I should have realized I’d give this old sack of butcher’s scraps a heart attack. “He’s getting an army together. Kraxx and loyal Zalaryns. Real Zalaryns. They’re assembling off planet, preparing a raiding party like the time of the Founders. Every planet in this quadrant will fear our names for generations. You will see the fires from the farthest moon of Urtha. The songs will—”

  But he clenches in a final gasp, his mouth opening and closing like he forgot to pressurize his space capsule.

  Then he is still.

  I turn to Resa, still bound to ceiling. I find the key in Teda’s waist pouch and unlock her. I drape her robe about her shoulders, keeping my arms around her.

  I don’t know if I can ever let her go again.

  Hopefully, I’ll never have to. I feel our bond is unbroken, yet… Humans are temperamental. Our physical bond—the chemicals and hormones—is unbroken. But what of that thing humans speak of? Love. Does she still feel that for me, after what I said to her, after I let her leave and walk straight into the clutches of a fiend?

  Did she ever?

  I watch the capitol fade in the distance. Xalax is taking me to one of Droka’s dwellings outside the city. After we get outside the crowded city, Xalax sets the controls on his vehicle and we speed up so fast I feel like my face is being pulled back off of my skull. But it’s worth it to get away from everything.

  Right now, the only person I want to be with is my mate.

  I understand it now, what he was trying to describe with his clinical alien phrases. Mates, bonding, chemicals, hormones, pheromones, exchanging genetic material.

  Because, after all, isn’t that what love is?

  Just because we can’t see it with the same sort of certainty that a doctor can see a gland or tumor, doesn’t mean that it isn’t there. That it isn’t real.

  And just because he talks about it in such bizarre terminology doesn’t mean that it’s not the same thing.

  It is.

  I just hope he will still want me after what
I’ve done. Criticizing his leadership. Being fooled by one little message in his comm-panel. I should have known better, that he wouldn’t have betrayed his people to the Kraxx.

  I didn’t trust him. I didn’t have faith.

  And I ran away from him like a spoiled little girl.

  How am I supposed to be High Queen, bonded mate to the most powerful male on the planet, when I am so fickle, so irrational?

  How am I supposed to be the mother to the heir to the throne? If I can even become pregnant. Our DNA wasn’t a perfect match. On Earth, our healers make poultices and teas for barren women, and sometimes they work. But mostly they don’t.

  What if I cannot produce an heir? It won’t matter that we are bonded. It won’t matter what love or chemicals we feel for each other.

  He is a king. He needs a son.

  And if I cannot give him one, he will get one from another.

  The thought fills me with so much dread, so much sadness, I feel ill.

  I feel the vehicle start to decelerate and see a large dwelling seemingly sculpted into the side of a mountain. “This is Droka’s ancestral home,” Xalax tells me as the vehicle doors open. “When the planet was nothing but roving clans, before the Founders united us. His family’s seat of power was here, their fortress built into the rocks. It is said that the walls cannot be breached. We will be safe here.”

  I climb out of the vehicle but I cannot look at him. I feel too much shame for what I’ve done. The pain I’ve caused him—the pain I’ve caused myself.

  I follow him up the long winding foot path. I’m startled when a large light turns on, bathing us in a white glow as bright as the suns.