by Arden, Mari
I'm too happy to be embarrassed. That's another reason I know this is a dream. I point to my Angry Bird pajamas. "I seemed to have missed the memo about the dress code."
"No worries," he says, flashing another white grin. His smiles are making me delirious, and everything seems to glow brighter and become fuzzier at the same time. I hear soft rustling, and cool air brushes my body before something gentle touches my skin. Looking down I see a long flowing dress. It's red, and the wind picks up the tail of the dress, blowing it and my hair behind me.
"You're so beautiful," Rhys says, his voice thick with everything he feels. His gaze is so tender that I'm hypnotized by it. I feel so happy my heart wants to burst with joy. The red cloth is blowing all around me, and even though he's looking at me like I'm the most exquisite woman on earth, my lungs are having trouble breathing.
"Rhys," I choke out. "Not red. Please, not red."
A look of concern and a flash of guilt cross his face and he says, "I understand." He holds out his hands to me.
"Think of a beautiful color," he whispers to me.
I let him take my hand, and when our palms touch the breeze picks up. A quiet rustling sound is heard, but our eyes never leave each other. His other hand circles my waist. He shoots me another devastating smile, his black hair perfect in the light. He looks down at what I'm wearing.
"Gold?"
"Golden eyes." He looks so sweetly at me I wrap my arms around his neck. I fit his body perfectly, and my gold dress is shining, shimmering as bright as his eyes. We're swaying in the breeze, dancing as the waves play around us. Questions swim in my head, and I know it's important I find the answers, but I bat them away like flies. For once I'm not thinking about escape and staying alive. I am happy, carefree and filled with joy.
"I used to come here when I was a little kid," he tells me. I watch his mouth move, and I continue to even when he catches me. He looks amused.
Dreams are a safe place for doing anything I want.
"Armin and I would sneak off when we could. We didn't do much, just laid around, sleeping. But this place holds some of my best memories."
"I can see why," I say, pointing to the sand. "We need something like that on Earth. It's like they're alive. They moved over me like ants!"
"The particles have a magnetic pull to blood."
I laugh. "That makes absolutely no sense! Blood doesn't contain magnetic properties," I inform him. "Even I know that and I'm a C average in science."
"Now that makes no sense." It's his turn to point out. "You get graded with letters. How do you know how to improve? The letters tell you nothing," he dismisses in his sexy accent.
"How do they grade you in Sangine?" I ask.
His grip tightens on me. "You probably wouldn't like it," is all he says. His lips thin and I know we're talking too much about reality, so I lay my head on his shoulders, listening to his gentle heartbeat.
"You're really very handsome," I finally whisper to his chest.
"And you're really very beautiful," he whispers to my hair.
"Is that why you took me?" The question slips before I can halt it.
Hot and cold. Right now he's all hot. I don't want him to turn cold. He's already sighing when I say, "Don't answer that."
"No," he says quietly near my ear. "That's not why I took you. I had no choice, Kenna. I'm wasn't born with freedom the way you were." His voice is filled with such sadness and longing I shut my eyes.
"Let's not talk about this anymore," I whisper.
We move together in a circle, swaying with the water. Slowly doubt creeps into my thoughts: about who he is, what he's done, and why he's sentenced me to die. I hum loudly to cover the noise in my head, and he seems to sense my distress. He hugs me tighter into his chest, breathing in my scent like a starving man.
"I'll make everything better." It's a lie. He can't. I know he can't. He knows it, too. But I nod anyway.
Soon, much too soon, I notice the sunshine waning and growing dimmer. I force myself to step back from him. I gaze into his eyes, trying to memorize the myriad of colors shimmering inside.
"Rhys," I breathe. I don't know what to say, or how to express what I feel. That one word seems to be enough though because he smiles.
"Kenna, you're stronger than you think you are." He holds my face in his hands. "You're special. You're a survivor." He looks deep into my eyes. "Even when everything burns you won't."
Goosebumps rise across my skin. I shiver from his words.
"When I wake up am I going to forget all this?" I suddenly ask him, desperate to know.
He gives me a sexy smile. "No."
Relieved, I grin back, unable to resist him. "So none of this is real?"
"Nope." He's laughing at me.
I pull his face closer to mine. "So none of this is real, and when I wake up I'll remember everything," I repeat softly, my mouth a breath away from his. Suddenly, he's looking at me with intensity and hunger. I think about where we're at and I know it isn't really paradise. I feel his arms around me, and his clean masculine scent drifts through my nose and into my heart. This is paradise. I lean over, and touch my lips with his.
We meet in the middle. As far as first kisses go this is the best one I've ever had. He's soft and hard at the same time. His lips taste as fresh and crisp as the water pooling around us.
When I finally pull back, we stare at each other, breathless. "So when do we get to do that again?" I ask, again, unable to stop myself. He laughs, noticing what a truly impulsive person I am.
All he says is, "In your dreams."
I attempt to frown at him, but a smile is touching my lips.
Then the sky breaks open with a roar, scaring me. It sounds like thunder when the clouds part. The waves greet this noise with their own loud applause, smashing into each other like giants. I can't hear my own thoughts. I clutch him tighter.
He gives me the saddest look I've ever seen, before he's gone, vanished from my dreams.
Chapter 21
Saguinox Encampment
He wished she hated him.
It'd be so much easier if she could.
Most people would hate someone who imprisons them, and leaves them at the mercy of an alien race. Deep in his heart, he always knew she wouldn't.
He pulls the crystal shard from his skin, winching when blood rushes out. Carelessly, he flips the white stone onto a table. It makes a loud clinking sound as it lands. If Malachi ever saw him do that, Malachi would probably stab him with it. Malachi "honored" him with a piece of the precious crystal many years ago. Its powers allow them to communicate with each other in their minds. It's especially useful during battles, and it's most certainly meant to be taken care of, not thrown carelessly about.
It's also not meant to be used with the enemy. A picture of Kenna flickers in his mind, and his chest tightens. The consequences be damned. It was all worth it.
The pain's more excruciating than usual this time, and he grips his arm, trying to numb the sensations. Somehow, that only makes it worse and he falls back on the bed, shutting his eyes. Even with them closed, he can still visualize the scabs and wound marks littering both his arms. The crystal is a vault of energy, and with the right magic it can be used for many things.
But, like everything, its energy comes at a price.
The marks on his arms won't heal for a while. And even when they do, there will always be reminders on his skin, and especially on his soul.
There's a light knock on the door, and he knows who it is even before it opens. He lets her knock until she's finished.
"Yes, Lenora?"
Her big eyes peek over the door. "How'd you know it was me?"
He sighs. "Most people don't knock on a door to the rhythm of 'Mary had a little lamb'."
She beams. "It's the first song I learned in English!" She closes the door behind her. The other Saguinox think they're mating, and he knows it hurts her when the other warriors stare at her with a smirk. She accepts this, though. It's s
afer if they think she belongs to him.
He sees her eyes go to the bloody gash on his arm. She bites her lips in worry. "Maybe you shouldn't communicate with her so much, Rhys," she advises softly. "The crystal's going to kill you."
He can't tell her he doesn't really have a choice. Kenna calls to him. "I'm fine," he answers, sounding more tired than he wants to.
He doesn't want to admit it, but Lenora's right. He shouldn't be communicating with Kenna. She'd said he was "hot and cold". She was right. Everytime he felt a pull pushing them closer, reality would seep in, and he'd be reminded of what he was, what he'd done, and what he needed to do still. He should've never gotten close. He didn't have to talk to Kenna to kidnap her. That hadn't been the plan. It had always been Lenora who was supposed to get close; Lenora who had such a fascination with all things human. Somehow he'd ended up with a locker near hers, and the rest as they say, is history.
Rhys's eyes are closed, but he knows Lenora's looking at him. She has a soft heart, and is the biggest humanist he's ever met. She loves everything about humans. She would even risk her life for what she believes in. That's why she's one of the few he trusts.
"Maybe we shouldn't have left her in there," Lenora begins again, worried.
"It's the only way to keep her safe. You know what's happening right now."
"Maybe if we just told her--"
"No. I already told you what the King plans to do. She won't be able to escape Armin again. You know I had to poison his powers to make him weaker. The King is suspicious and will have Touchers on us next time." Realizing how he sounds, he softens his tone. "She won't escape again. Armin's too powerful, and now he feels like he's got something to prove."
There's a long moment of silence. "It's just ironic that to protect her we have to put her right in the center of it all."
"It's been done before," he answers, gritting his teeth. The cut from the crystal is burning and aching at the same time. "They won't think to look for her there."
"Were you able to talk to them?" she asks. She doesn't say their name. She doesn't need to.
"Yes. I've leaked the codes and a blueprint of the building to them. They've already sent someone in. He's in the compound as we speak."
"I wish we could go get her. She probably hates us," Lenora says, almost tearfully.
"Not quite."
"Maybe not you," she accuses. "But definitely me."
"Lenora," he comforts her for the thousandth time. "One person not liking you in the grand scheme of things isn't so bad."
"I know, but I really liked her. I really like them all. I wish… I wish I hadn't been born Saguinox," she confesses softly. "I hate the violence, the way we kill people. The way we conquer."
His whole body tightens with her words. Images of what he's done enter his head like angry bees. Pictures of death flash like a never-ending story.
One in particular stands out.
A battlefield. A girl, starved and dying. He'd been the one to find her. The King had deemed her death as his prize. Young and foolish, he did what he was told. He destroyed her with his hands until her body was unrecognizable. Until her body was as flat as the field they stood on, covered with human debris and dirt.
He pushes the memory out of his mind, clenching his teeth to do it.
"It's all the people know," he answers softly. "It's what we've done for thousands of years."
It's what he's done for a century which is why he, more than anyone, knows what they're risking if Malachi found out what he and Lenora were really doing. He's delivered revenge in the name of the King many times. It always ends with death.
But that's the easy part.
It's what happens before death that scares people. Torture. Pain. Annihilation of everyone you love.
He risks it all. Even now, he refuses to think about failure. Too much is at stake. Earth. The universe.
Life.
"It's hard to change something when you've never seen anything different."
"We are. We're changing it, Rhys," Lenora points out softly.
He allows a trace of a smile to touch his lips. "Yes."
"Truitt will arrive tomorrow. He's been able to round up more men," she informs excitedly.
He's alarmed. Damn Truitt and his hot- headed ways. Did he want them all to get killed? "How does he know we can trust these men?"
"They've all been wronged by the King. They want their revenge."
He shakes his head. "This isn't about revenge. It's about what's right and wrong."
"I know."
He's sure she does know. He's just not sure about the rest.
"Truitt says they can be trusted."
He doesn't look at Lenora. "Trust is a fickle thing."
Lenora bites her lips.
He sighs, standing up. He gives her his back, rubbing his temples. He isn't ready for this. Even after a hundred years he's still not ready for this. Dethrone the King? There was a time when he couldn't have even imagined it, and now it's in every move they plan and every word they speak.
Treason.
"There's so much at stake," he says, "Truitt can't just--"
A loud knock interrupts them. They're motionless.
"Sir. The orders have changed." The voice is muffled, but he can hear the urgency in it. "We leave tonight."
Lenora stiffens. "No," she whispers, shocked.
His heart starts to race, accelerating with each passing second.
"Sir?"
"Yes," he calls out harshly. "Get my uniform ready."
Lenora's eyes are wide. "You aren't thinking of really--"
"I need to buy us more time," he interrupts. "They can't suspect me. We need more time."
His hands clench at his sides, trying to control the tension and anger coursing through his body. Kenna's face tumbles into his mind, followed by every creature that's ever come before him. Their lives depended on him.
Everything depends on him.
Suddenly, he can't take it anymore. He turns around swinging, and punches the wall. He doesn't stop when he goes through the plaster and into the metal beams. His fists leaves a dent. The pain isn't enough, but the sounds are loud enough to drown out his pounding heart. There's silence when he's done.
Looking at his raw hands, he's shocked. A warrior is never driven by his emotions. Malachi's words drift into his mind, a chant from his childhood.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be." Her voice is soft. "I've seen worse."
Silence.
"I told myself I'd never be like my father," he confesses quietly.
"You're not."
He thinks about every evil thing he's done. I'm not so sure.
When he doesn't respond, Lenora says, "I will pray."
A muscle ticks in his jaw. "It's too late for that."
The war is beginning.
Chapter 21
Saguinox Encampment
He wished she hated him.
It'd be so much easier if she could.
Most people would hate someone who imprisons them, and leaves them at the mercy of an alien race. Deep in his heart, he always knew she wouldn't.
He pulls the crystal shard from his skin, winching when blood rushes out. Carelessly, he flips the white stone onto a table. It makes a loud clinking sound as it lands. If Malachi ever saw him do that, Malachi would probably stab him with it. Malachi "honored" him with a piece of the precious crystal many years ago. Its powers allow them to communicate with each other in their minds. It's especially useful during battles, and it's most certainly meant to be taken care of, not thrown carelessly about.
It's also not meant to be used with the enemy. A picture of Kenna flickers in his mind, and his chest tightens. The consequences be damned. It was all worth it.
The pain's more excruciating than usual this time, and he grips his arm, trying to numb the sensations. Somehow, that only makes it worse and he falls back on the bed, shutting his eyes. Even with them closed, he can still visualize the scabs and w
ound marks littering both his arms. The crystal is a vault of energy, and with the right magic it can be used for many things.
But, like everything, its energy comes at a price.
The marks on his arms won't heal for a while. And even when they do, there will always be reminders on his skin, and especially on his soul.
There's a light knock on the door, and he knows who it is even before it opens. He lets her knock until she's finished.
"Yes, Lenora?"
Her big eyes peek over the door. "How'd you know it was me?"
He sighs. "Most people don't knock on a door to the rhythm of 'Mary had a little lamb'."
She beams. "It's the first song I learned in English!" She closes the door behind her. The other Saguinox think they're mating, and he knows it hurts her when the other warriors stare at her with a smirk. She accepts this, though. It's safer if they think she belongs to him.
He sees her eyes go to the bloody gash on his arm. She bites her lips in worry. "Maybe you shouldn't communicate with her so much, Rhys," she advises softly. "The crystal's going to kill you."
He can't tell her he doesn't really have a choice. Kenna calls to him. "I'm fine," he answers, sounding more tired than he wants to.
He doesn't want to admit it, but Lenora's right. He shouldn't be communicating with Kenna. She'd said he was "hot and cold". She was right. Everytime he felt a pull pushing them closer, reality would seep in, and he'd be reminded of what he was, what he'd done, and what he needed to do still. He should've never gotten close. He didn't have to talk to Kenna to kidnap her. That hadn't been the plan. It had always been Lenora who was supposed to get close; Lenora who had such a fascination with all things human. Somehow he'd ended up with a locker near hers, and the rest as they say, is history.
Rhys's eyes are closed, but he knows Lenora's looking at him. She has a soft heart, and is the biggest humanist he's ever met. She loves everything about humans. She would even risk her life for what she believes in. That's why she's one of the few he trusts.
"Maybe we shouldn't have left her in there," Lenora begins again, worried.
"It's the only way to keep her safe. You know what's happening right now."
