When she reached the fifth room and saw the identical barren state, panic threatened to overtake her. She hurried her steps, not bothering to go over every detail, going from room to room, finishing the last in this side of the hall and working her way up on the other side, toward her former room. In the sixteenth chamber, there was a difference ...
In that room, in one of the closets, there was an outfit forgotten in a corner, evidently missed in the cleanup after an affair. It was a costume made for sexual pleasure—black, lacy and gaudy. Stunned, she took it in hand and saw that it was soiled. In her horror and disgust, she flung it away.
Appalled, she searched the last of the chambers. She knew what was in hers and moved to his, and thrust his closets open wide. There was but a sparse scattering of his possessions here, a few changes of clothes and robes, and two pair of boots ... but nothing more.
This was the master suite.
His ‘friend’ was he.
This was a pleasure palace—no one truly lived here.
Her mind raced back, recalling when he had said that his ‘friend’ had had some—how had he said it—‘hell-a-cious’ parties here. Evidently, when the mood struck him, this was a place for debauchery, where he would mingle with many others of his own kind, where all of the devils inside of him would be let loose, and—
“The smut!” she hissed. “The lowdown, dirty, rotten smut!”
Skye couldn’t remember a time in her life when she had been more furious. She gritted her teeth and clenched her fists, slowly moving back to the foyer to await his return. She would confront him and make the horrid beast expose all of his lies.
As she stalked about stiffly, waiting for him, all the other disturbing suspicions about him kept rising to the surface of her active, heightened intellect. Nagging details that didn’t quite make sense ... So, he was wealthy, if he owned this estate. And, if he could lie to her with such ease about his ‘friend’, what else had he lied about?
In the dark recesses of her mind, a storm brewed. His Grandmother Anna ... how he wouldn’t give her the date of his birth ... those blue-green eyes ... Had it been right before her eyes all along—
“No!” she cried, pressing her fingers to her temples. “Don’t even think of it!”
Her entire essence began trembling but she calmed herself, saving all of her rage for him.
No, she wouldn’t let him destroy her. If anything, she would destroy him.
***
A Trobin’s cold, pink eyes watched stealthily from his hiding place behind a tree nearby the estate’s entrance. At last he had found the Human female, from the tracking device that he had implanted in her hand. A sweep of the house from his tracker indicated that she was alone. He was ready to make his move, but then an auto drove up and parked. A blond-haired Human stepped out and headed into the house. He knew him to be the Prince Royal of Adriel—from the personal comm he had stolen from him—but he didn’t care, bent only on his vengeance. Stra Akka cursed, but he would be patient ...
Nicholas strode up the steps, eager for her presence. He had planned on going home today, to deal with his parents, but had gone to see Akins instead. He had asked his advice about what to do about the situation he was in with Skye, which was odd—he hadn’t ever needed advice about a woman, before. Akins had concluded that he should tell her who he was—if he was that sweet on her, he couldn’t go on fooling her for forever. Nicholas knew that Akins was right, but still, he didn’t know ... How would she react to the fact that he had tricked her?
Skye heard him coming up the staircase and mentally braced herself for the confrontation. She stood in the foyer, looking out the long stretch of windows, out on the misty blue sea. She didn’t turn as he approached her. He came up from behind her and drew her into a crushing hug.
“There you are!” he greeted. “Missed you!”
He noticed her stiffness and slowly drew away. He turned her around to face him, and saw the anger on her lovely face.
“Skye, what’s wrong?” he asked, concerned. “Did you have a bad day?”
She sighed shakily and nodded, and calmly moved to the computer board, to replay the fateful message. She watched his face change from disbelief, to anger, to shock while he listened to his girlfriend’s voice—being caught in the web of his deceit.
The message was over and there was silence.
“Ah, nonononono,” he groaned out. “That just ain’t right. She’s not my girlfriend.”
Skye made her voice come out levelly. “She seems to think she is. Is that where you were today—with her?”
“No!” he gasped. “Of course not! She’s—she’s just a pest who I ... I don’t even like her! She’s ... she’s ...”
“She knew where to find you,” Skye said, deceivingly calm. “Why is that?”
She vengefully watched him stutter in his confusion, him unable to find any words.
Point blank, she asked him, “So this is your house?”
He was silent, and his understanding of the seriousness of the situation came onto his face.
“You lied to me!” she accused, setting her anger free. “You lied to me about everything! How many girlfriends do you have? Where is your home where you docked your ship? Who are you, really? You planned to keep me here while you went off, doing what you please—off on your other conquests, your other tawdry affairs!”
Nicholas balked from the coldness in her narrowed violet-blue eyes and literally felt a chill. He must stop this misunderstanding right now! “No, Skye—you have it all wrong!” he pleaded. “It isn’t like that, at all.”
In a desperate attempt for harmony, he tried to take her into his arms. She pushed him away from her and moved further toward the door.
“Skye—it’s me!” he pleaded. “Believe me—you know me!”
“I don’t know you!” she cried, her tears falling freely. “Who are you?”
Nicholas scowled, having some anger of his own. “I am me, and you just don’t know what that’s like! If I lied, it was because I had to! You just ... don’t understand ...”
“Oh, I understand!” she retorted. “I understand that you’re a smut! What kind of a man keeps a woman in a house where he’s already had raunchy affairs with other women? What sort of a man has to go to the depravity of brothels when he already has a girlfriend—and now me, another one on the side! What—do you have a wife, too? You surely don’t think very highly of me—and I ... oh, I hate you!”
When confronted with such overpowering emotion, Nicholas decided to do what he did best. He stormed from the house, to his auto, to avoid the consequences.
As he drove away, he slammed his fist into the helm. “Damn that Audrey!” he hissed. She just had to go and do that ... Whatever would he do, now? Skye—she hadn’t even let him explain! He didn’t want to lose her ... he didn’t want her to go ...
It wasn’t long before his instincts began screaming at him, commanding him to turn this auto around and go back to her or he would find her lost to him for forever ...
He cursed vehemently, and reared the auto ...
Skye was heading for the door—on her way to leave him and go home to the comfort of her wilderness—when her eyes suddenly beheld a sight that couldn’t possibly be real.
Coming through the doorway was Stra Akka. He paused, blocking her path, and stood tall and thin, his narrow face menacing, his pink eyes furious.
Skye stumbled back into the foyer, staring up at him in her shock. The creature followed her and abruptly opened his blue robe. She was horrified to see a metallic apparatus lodged on him, on his member that she had destroyed that long ago day on Strou. She looked up at his ominous face.
“Me, you ruin!” he cried in his nasal voice. “Die, will you!”
Skye gasped as he grabbed her arm and snatched a collar from his belt. She was powerless against his strength as he slipped the collar over her head and into place around her neck ...
Nicholas bounded up the steps, determined to set thi
ngs right. He heard a thump in the foyer and was relieved that she was still here. He would confront her, and say his piece.
“Skye, now you listen to me—“ he began, and was met with a sight he couldn’t have fathomed.
A Trobin held her down on the floor, and she was on her knees, clawing at a metallic collar that was around her fragile neck ...
The Trobin hadn’t expected to see him, and for a moment, didn’t know how to react. Nicholas instantly found his FAS reflexes and sprang to the tall and narrow bureau that was in the entrance of the foyer. He opened a drawer and snatched out the M-5 he kept there for unwanted guests, checked to see that it was still on the stun mode, and sprang back into the foyer. He fired on the Trobin ...
Skye became paralyzed, unable to cry out in the excruciating pain, the thunderclap that sent her spirit into darkness.
PART II
THE PRINCESS
Chapter 12
Existence was a pointless state, a median place between the joy of Heaven and the agony of Hell. Skye couldn’t find her reality, lost in a darkness that wouldn’t give way to light. She was a shadow without form, a restless spirit floating but into nowhere, a thought that had no meaning. She had no substance and was free to glide, soaring ... rising ... falling ...
At times voices would draw her near, urgent voices, calm voices, but all mingling in an unfamiliar jumble that made no sense. One voice was set apart from the rest, and she knew the rich tones but had never known the roughness before. The despair came from a man she had once known, a wicked man—a hurtful man. She would hurry away from the disturbing sound to escape the shattering of her soul, and would push herself off to glide again ...
She became like a bird on a wing, flying high above the treetops in a sky that was blue and endless. She wandered above the verdant hillsides, the sparkling streams, soothed by all the tranquility. When she came upon the deep blue sea, a light appeared in the sky, a portal that was opening like the parting of a billowing cloud. Three forms came out from the haze and she recognized them to be her father, her mother, and her brother.
With a glad cry she rushed to meet them. She couldn’t touch them but they touched her, with their smiling spirits.
“Papa! Mama! Jencin—look at you!”
Jencin was a full-grown man, handsome and tall.
“Hello, Skye,” he said warmly.
“Wow, Jencin, you sure have changed!”
A voice from above cut sharply through the air. It was the wicked man’s voice—
“No, Skye—don’t! Don’t you go!”
She ignored him and wouldn’t hear. This was not his place ...
There was chaos off around the horizon and she suddenly felt pain, like sharp blades digging into her soul. She heard a woman scream and then everything was silent. The pain ebbed away but it lingered, and when she looked again, her family was gone.
Desperately, she wandered above the churning sea, searching for them, calling out their names. She couldn’t find them again and the sky grew dark, like nighttime, with not a star above. It was cold and she was alone, but familiar warmth came to surround her. It was the blond-haired, blue-eyed man, and she knew the heat of his presence.
“Skye ...”
He said her name and his plea echoed across the darkened waves, fanning outward across the heavens ...
Suddenly, out of a crashing wave, her father appeared.
“Papa!” she cried, trying to rush for him, but an invisible force held her, keeping her still.
He neared her, his eyes glowing with his love. He wanted to talk to her, to tell her something important.
“Lit’o light,” he said affectionately. “You must go back soon. Your journey here is not done.”
“But I don’t want to go back, Papa! I want to go with you! I’ve no one here.”
“You do have someone, Skye. He’s the man in your dreams.”
“No, Papa—no! He wants to destroy me!”
“No, lit’o light. The only one who can destroy you is you.”
She knew an overwhelming frustration. “But, he’s a liar and a rake ...”
“Have your faith, child,” he urged. “He will be with you always. You must have your belief. I can also tell you that Gunnar will come for you, but he will not succeed.”
“Gunnar?” she asked.
“Life is a mystery, a journey of your own, a gift given. Enjoy your walk.” He smiled and softly said, “I am with you always.”
He turned and disappeared into the mist.
Suddenly, she felt herself falling and then she was caught and trapped in a cold, hard place. She felt the tears slide down her face. She opened her aching eyes and her blurred vision cleared, and she saw the despair and fear in handsome blue-green eyes. She couldn’t speak and the pain abruptly became an unbearable agony, taking her back up into the darkness, setting her free to drift once more ...
***
Nicholas sat in the chair at her bedside, waiting for her to open her eyes again. When he could see those violet-blue wonders, he had his hope. He waited and waited but she was gone again, off in the throes of her induced coma. He told himself that it was for the best; this way she couldn’t feel the pain. Or so the Palace Medics had said ...
After Stra Akka had collapsed in unconsciousness from the M-5’s wave, he took the remote from the Trobin’s belt and disabled the collar that was around Skye’s neck. He had called home for immediate assistance and had gathered her limp form into his arms, taking the collar off of her and flinging it away. He held her, seeing that she still breathed, and he had rocked her, demanding for her to stay with him. The medics were quick to come—though it seemed a lifetime—and they held him back while they worked her, stabilizing her, readying her for flight. They brought her and the Trobin to Queen’s Palace, and they couldn’t deny his royal command that he be allowed to stay with her.
When in the palace’s medical ward, he had watched helplessly while the medics tended her. Within all of the chaos, he reminded himself that these people were highly skilled, the best of their profession on the planet. He must do as they say and stay out of their way. They’d bring her back ...
His father had come to him, in his concern, his mother away with his sister, Celeste, for the day. He absently received his hug and told him about what had happened, about how she had been a captive of the Trobins, and about what Stra Akka had done to her. Nothing else mattered now, but her survival. At last the medics had her stabilized, inducing a coma so that she could withstand the pain.
Now they must wait until her body healed. They had never before seen the effects of the Trobins’ sadistic ‘collar of death’, but they were quick to learn. It had sent intense voltaic waves into the core of her brain. The collar had been taken off her in time, and they thought that there wouldn’t be any permanent damage. They could safely say that they believed that she would survive.
They believed, but they didn’t know.
Nicholas hung his head in his hands, overwhelmed again. She just had to live ... she just had to ...
He felt a hand come gently onto his shoulder and turned to see his father’s distinguished face. The green eyes conveyed his worry, but there was reassurance there, as well.
His father urged, “Why don’t you go and get some rest.”
Nicholas shook his head. “She’s been talking to her kin, on the other side.”
“They’ll do that when they’re in that state,” his father explained quietly. “But the medics say that she’ll be all right, as soon as they can bring down her pain.”
“But, what if she isn’t?”
“You’ve got to have faith, Son,” he replied simply.
Nicholas senior shared in his son’s grief. He was brought back to a miserable time, long ago, when he had watched his own wife suffer in a similar condition. He had been helpless and terrified, fearing that she was lost to him. But, she had survived ...
He watched his boy, seeing his shaking hands, his tear-streaked eyes. He
studied the girl, all small and fragile, tucked between the white heat-mesh bedding. He saw a hint of a red-gold tress slipping out of her white cap, and that her cheeks were high and refined. She was slender and of average height, but he suspected that there was a formidable spirit within her. His son and she looked to be a good match; they had very similar features. Sarra will be pleased ...
His wife and he knew of their first-born son’s escapades, of his disguise that he wore while he went off to visit the sordid women of the brothels, but they didn’t let on to him that they knew. They understood that he was rebelling waywardly under the pressure of his name, and that he would outgrow it, in time. He himself couldn’t fault his boy for his immorality, having lived the same lifestyle before he met his wife. He didn’t envy his son, though, for the complicated venture he had ahead. This boy had inherited both of his parents’ stubbornness—and that was a plethora of emotion, indeed.
If there was only something that he could tell him, some shred of wisdom that would guide him in the right direction ...
The junior Nicholas rose from his chair and began to pace about erratically. He wrung his hands before him, glancing frequently at the girl in the bed. Nicholas senior smiled wryly, feeling the brunt of his age. His little boy was not so little anymore, and he had went and gotten himself caught ...
Nicholas junior stopped to search for the wisdom in green eyes. “What do I do, Dad?” he asked helplessly.
His father came to place his hands on his shoulders. He looked him square in the eye and said, “You’re got, Son. Got.”
“Got?” he uttered, surprised.
“That little girl has you.”
The Princess of the Wild (The Royals of Adriel Book 2) Page 13
