by Abella Ward
“I’m sure you must be famished by now,” he said in that low voice of his. “Eat. You will need your strength.” He picked up his drink and took a swig. Rydel laughed. “Don’t look so scared. You want to try this?” he gestured toward the dark chunk of a block sitting on his platter. It smelled weird. And Tara gagged. “I guess not,” he said making a face.
He realized she looked miserable. “I got you human food, Tara,” he said in a serious tone. “I was just teasing. I know you are not ready to eat Klai meat yet.”
“I . . . I would never eat that,” she said softly. And he saw how forlorn she looked.
“Okay, I hope you like the sandwich. It won’t be that good but it’s better than nothing. Eat, Tara,” he said matter-of-factly. He took another swig and dug in.
Tara averted her eyes and timidly picked up her sandwich. Slowly, she took a bite and found it was okay. Not that bad after all. She took a sip of wine.
“So, here’s the thing. We will be landing on Planet Ranus in another two weeks or so. I have to pick up the stone there which, according to the Scroll, is hidden in the Dark Woods. Then we will hopefully head back to Scyok,” He took another swig and finished off the remaining food. He was fast. She still had eaten only half the sandwich.
“But I still have to figure out what that symbol means,” he gestured toward her wrist, his intense eyes, cool as ice, gazed at her. She squirmed and looked away. “How did you get it?”
“Why is this symbol so important to you?” she asked him. “What does it mean?”
“You tell me,” he said, draining his glass. Then he leaned sideways and picked up the Scroll from the heap. “What do you make of this?” he asked, gazing intently at her as he showed her the symbol on the Scroll.
Tara stared at the similarity. The symbol was the same. Her stomach knotted terribly. “I . . . I don’t know,” she whispered. He saw fear in her eyes. “This mark has been here as long as I can remember. I don’t know how it got there.”
He figured she was telling the truth.
“You, you keep looking at that parchment . . . The symbol . . . What does it mean?” she asked, a worried look in her eyes.
“That’s what I have been trying to figure out. I had hoped you would know something that would lead us to find the Svix,” he said, sighing.
“I . . . I don’t understand.”
“Of course you don’t. Now listen carefully,” he said as she finished her food. “Back home, my people are dying. A virus has spread like a plague and we are looking for a cure. This Scroll is magical. It has guided our ancestors for thousands of years. The leader of our tribe, Hyrak – or this Scroll, more accurately – has chosen me to find the Svix. The essence of life. It is our only hope.”
Tara watched him, hardly understanding his story. “I still don’t get it. What all of this has got to do with me?”
He refilled his glass and took another swig. “Honestly, I don’t know. Look, I have never been much of a believer, but this Scroll reveals clues, riddles, which I have to figure out. They will lead to the Svix. I’m guessing this symbol here shows that the Svix might look like this or something. And it is somehow linked to you. And . . . ” He unrolled the parchment to show her something. “It has given us a map.”
Tara looked at the age-old scroll. It seemed confusing. She glanced at him then. He had pointy ears, she noticed. And then her eyes roved over his sharp features. He had the straight, chiseled nose and carefully carved lips . . . It was the same mouth that had claimed hers that day in the most passionate kiss ever. She gasped at the memory and looked away.
No, no, no . . . What was wrong with her? She couldn’t go down that lane. It was too dangerous. She was stupid to even think that he would ever love her. He wanted her as his mate. But she could not imagine spending the rest of her life with a Klai. He was the enemy. Had always been the enemy. No, this wasn’t happening.
“When we land on Ranus, I will follow this and get the stone,” Rydel said, showing her the map. Tara snapped out of her thoughts. She took another bite, finishing the sandwich as she focused on the discussion at hand.
“Are you sure you will find it there?” she asked cautiously, remembering he was telling her something about the stone.
“Of course. The Scroll is the best guide.”
Right . . . He could do whatever he wanted with his wild plan. But she was not being part of it. She was getting out. She took another sip and stared at her plate. “And what about this planet? Is it habitable?” she asked.
“Yes. The Great City there is actually a tourist spot,” Rydel explained.
Tara thought that was a relief. She could go out and find a place to settle down. It would be the first time she would ever set foot on a real planet.
“Tara?” Rydel said in a low voice as Tara grew quiet. “He beat you up, didn’t he?”
She shuddered and closed her eyes.
“It’s okay. Don’t get upset.” His voice was oddly gentle. “He’s gone now.”
Her hands clenched into fists. “It wasn’t just the beatings . . . He raped me, too . . . And, and the first time . . . I resisted, h . . . he did this to my face,” she said, gesturing toward the damaged side of her face. “He said I was no longer pretty . . . and that I would know my place . . . ” She sobbed, tears streaming down her face.
“Here.” He poured her more wine. His chest constricted as he saw the sadness in her eyes. “Drink.”
She took a sip and let out a shuddering breath. And wiped the tears away, trying hard to look strong. “I . . . I’m sorry.”
He quietly gazed at her. How could he say it was okay when it was not? He had no words to comfort her, and the ache in his heart grew.
They sat in silence for a while. She stared at her hands, lost in thought while he stared at the Scroll.
“Let me go,” Tara whispered looking up at him.
“What . . . ?” Rydel began, surprised by her sudden reaction.
“Let me go!” she said a bit louder. “I don’t care what your plan is. I want you to let me go.”
“I can’t. You are staying with me, Tara. You are my mate,” he said, frowning.
Tara closed her fingers around the dagger’s hilt beneath her cloak and stood up, pulling out the dagger, pointing at his chest. She held the dagger with both hands as they shook.
“I am not your mate!” she said through clenched teeth. “I will never be your mate, your sex slave, or anything you want me to be!” Her voice had grown shrill.
He gazed at her quietly for a while, calmly, analyzing her, his ice blue eyes blazing, betraying him. “Where would you go, Tara?” he asked, raising a perfectly arched dark brow. The chill in his voice had returned.
“Anywhere away from you,” she said, seething. There was a fire in her eyes that surprised him. “Let me go!”
He stood up and she stepped back, blinking.
Her hands shook terribly as she tried hard to keep them stable while she held the dagger. Her breathing was labored. “Let me go . . . please,” she whispered, pleading now, the rage dampened.
He was quick. Moving toward her, he reached out and grabbed her wrist holding the dagger. She shrieked as it slipped from her delicate fingers, dropping to the floor with a clang. His face close to hers, he slid one arm around her waist and pulled her close, his hard body crushing against hers. With his other hand, he cupped her chin and gazed hard into her eyes.
“You are free, but you are my mate. I will follow you wherever you go as I am bound to protect you,” he said through clenched teeth, with such finality in his tone that it sent a chill down her spine.
“You can hate me all you want, but I will make sure you will accept this bond. You won’t be able to eat or breathe unless you have me inside you,” he said in a low, calm voice, his piercing gaze searing her very soul.
She slapped him hard across his face. “Bastard,” she said. He didn’t even flinch. But the icy fire in his eyes blazed.
“I’d rather die,�
�� she said as tears filled her eyes . . . “I despise your kind . . . All of you are the same – lying, treacherous beasts!”
Something shifted in his eyes as they darkened.
“Hmm, really? And yet the man who raped you, disfigured you, and treated you like a whore was human, wasn’t he?” he said in a low, calm voice so cold it chilled her to the bone.
Shocked, she looked away, unable to look into his eyes as his words cut through her heart. But he had seen the sadness seep in followed by despair.
He let her go and she hugged herself, unable to say anything else. He was right.
Rydel regretted what he said immediately. “I . . . I didn’t . . . ” Silent tears now streamed down her cheeks. His words had humiliated her. She turned away from him, head lowered, and walked toward the door. “Gyree, show me the way to my quarters, please.”
“Tara . . . wait!” Rydel began, but she was already outside. The door slid closed.
“Fuck!” he cursed under his breath. What had come over him? Why did she hate the Klai so much? He did know they had a bad reputation as space pirates, but her hatred seemed to be on a personal level.
He sat down on the couch and ran a hand through his dark hair. Her sad, sad eyes haunted him. He couldn’t take the image out of his head. He picked up the wine bottle and took a swig.
Claiming her would be difficult, he could see that now. He could have easily proved to her that she was his mate and that avoiding him would only devastate her and make her sick. But his pride wouldn’t let him. He wanted her to trust him and accept him.
She was human, so he knew she would feel the repercussions of the unclaimed mating sooner or later. But winning her heart seemed impossible. The pain in his heart grew as he thought about it.
Chapter 5
As the weeks slipped by, Tara tried her best to avoid Rydel as much as possible. But he strictly made it a point that she joined him for dinner. He would mostly talk about the Scroll and the pieces of the puzzle that he was trying to figure out. She, on the other hand, quietly listened, avoiding him in every way she could. She wouldn’t even look at him, as she was scared her heart would falter . . . She stayed cooped up in her quarters all day, busying herself with reading charts and maps and the history of planet Ranus.
The only thing that unnerved her was the fact that staying away from Rydel didn’t make her feel any better. In fact, she had become more depressed. Every night she would dream of him . . . Dreams that haunted her made her restless with red-hot desire. She couldn’t sleep well at all and as the days went by, she became more confused, wondering what was happening to her. She had lost her appetite almost completely and there were dark circles under her eyes. She felt as though she had lost something precious, or someone she loved . . .
She even visited the sick bay to see if she was falling sick, but her vitals were fine and she was in pretty good health. Gyree told her it was mere lack of sleep and suggested a sleeping pill. Tara took the pill the night before they landed on Ranus. She was totally unaware of the side effects. She woke up the next day with a terrible hangover. Tea didn’t help much, but it did enough to make her feel less groggy. She remembered what Rydel had said about this alien medicine. It was too strong for humans.
Rydel’s voice nearly made her jump as he entered the common room. She had just finished her breakfast and was about to leave when the Commander entered. She would usually schedule a time with Gyree so that she wouldn’t have to run into Rydel. She was still mad at him.
“Hey, Tara. I’m glad you are here,” he said, coming up to her. She stepped away from him, surprised that he acted as if nothing had happened. “We will be landing in a few hours. I will go out and look for the stone, and I might be gone a day or more. Stay in your quarters.”
“Can I come with you?” she asked him cautiously.
“No. It’s too dangerous. This is an alien planet, unknown to humans, and I don’t want to risk anything at this moment. Stay on the ship, Tara.” His voice sounded harsher than he had wanted to.
She nodded reluctantly.
He could see the effect of the unclaimed mating on her. She was torturing herself. Rydel gazed at her for a long time. His heart ached for her . . . To touch her again, to feel her soft lips on his, to hold her close . . .
Tara felt her cheeks grow hot under his intense gaze. She turned around and walked out before he could stop her.
The weight on his chest grew heavier with the dull pain that was always present. His appetite gone, he walked back to his chambers and packed his bag, shoving the Scroll and the final map he had drawn inside. He checked to see that his dagger was in place and left the control room.
***
“Okay, Gyree, tell me the coordinates one more time. And give me a print on paper, please,” Tara said, looking over the holographic image on the screen in the Control room.
Ms. Dawson, the Commander needs to know where you are going.
“No, Gyree. Do me a favor. Do not tell Rydel where I am going. Okay? I want to surprise him,” she lied as she folded the printed map and put it in her bag.
Surprise? I do not understand.
“You won’t. I told you I am going to join him,” she lied again. “Just don’t tell him.”
They had safely landed two hours back and, according to Gyree, Rydel had left immediately. Now the coast was clear and Tara could escape to the Great City. Her stomach twisted again. She hoped to reach the city before nightfall and find a place to stay the night. All the info Gyree had given her told her it would take her four to six hours to reach the city by foot. And she would have to pass through the Dark woods to get there. If only Rydel had landed on the other side of the planet. She wouldn’t have to cross the forest. Rage washed over her.
Gyree had warned her that the woods were known to be unpredictable and she should stick to the path charted out for her. The climate was tropical and humid, and Gyree said the suit she wore on the ship would do as it was light and airy, though she suggested that Tara wear boots. Tara packed a small bag, stashing some snacks and bottled water inside. She then put on the boots. She found the ring she had stolen before leaving her master’s quarters. It was forged from a rare and precious metal and she could sell it and rent a decent lodging. She turned it over in her hand and put it in the bag. Then, she pulled her hood over her head. Slinging the bag across her shoulders, she checked the map Gyree had given her. She entered the decompression chamber.
“Gyree, please unlock the main hatch,” Tara instructed the computer ten minutes later as she adjusted her breathing clip on her nose.
Ms. Dawson, you are ready to go out into Ranus's atmosphere.
The main ship’s doorway opened with a hiss. She walked down the walkway and stepped onto the ground. A whiff of warm, humid air hit her face. She staggered and took a deep breath. The air was really thick, and her legs felt like heavy iron rods. She walked a few steps further and the glare of the two suns blinded her momentarily. She lowered her head and looked down. The ground was bone white sand and rocks. She took out the map and looked for the woods. From east to west was a bare stretch of white land. And far toward north-west, she could see trees not very far off in the distance. That had to be the woods. The map indicated as much. Gyree had said that the ship was facing north and that when she stepped outside, she should walk twenty steps toward the right and then go straight. Then, once she reached the woods, the map would guide her.
Tara walked toward the right, counting her steps. Then she made her way toward the thicket. She was already panting, and each step seemed tedious. But she had to move on. So she trudged forward. An hour later, she reached the opening to the woods. She was breathing hard. She stopped and sipped water from the bottle she carried. Sweat had made her suit stick to her body in an annoying way.
As her breathing regulated, Tara looked at the trees. Gyree had called them the Dark Woods, and she had once wondered why. Now she could see for herself. The trees were all in hues of black, gray, or dull brown
. Their barks were gnarled and twisted, and their leaves were no better. They were black – as if burnt – and some of them were dark blue or dark red – as if stained with blood.
Tara checked the time on her old watch. Gyree had helped her set it to Ranus’s time. She had taken off the band she wore while she was on the ship. She knew it was a COMM device and didn’t want Rydel to know she had escaped.
Her journey had only begun and her bones had already started aching. But she couldn’t stop and rest. She had to reach the city before nightfall. She had eight hours before sundown and she didn’t want to spend the night out there. The woods looked creepy enough in broad daylight. Consulting her map, she entered the path that ran through the trees.
The path wasn’t clear. It was lined with strange-looking gnarled roots, dead leaves, and other decaying plants. The worst thing was the smell. The moment she entered the forest, the air had become rancid. The stench was bad enough to make her gag. She covered her nose and mouth with her scarf and pulled the hood lower over her head. Sunlight barely reached the ground as the tall, thick trees blocked it out. Half an hour into the woods, a bout of coughing hit her hard. She unscrewed a bottle of water and took a few sips. The bout stopped a few minutes later, but her cough did not entirely go away. She started walking again, following the winding path.
A throbbing headache began to hammer at her temples. Great, she thought. She looked at the watch. Only two hours into the forest and she was ready to give up. What was she thinking? This was a bad idea. Not good at all . . .
Rydel’s face flashed through her mind and sadness washed over her. She should have listened to him and stayed on the ship. She could never make it out of these woods. She would die inside the forest. But why was she thinking about him now? There was no going back. She hated him, and she had to get away from him before he took advantage of her, raped her . . .
Tara, get a grip! He was not going to rape you or sell you as his sex slave. If he wanted, he could have done that the day he brought you onto his ship, the angry voice snapped in her head.
