Red: A Dystopian World Alien Romance

by S. J. Sanders

  Arie leaned forward to get a better look but immediately recoiled at the cruel appearance of the various metal instruments and pinchers. Next to them, he placed a metal brazier on the table and filled it with coals. These he immediately set fire to and watched the flames with a certain solemn satisfaction, never once saying a word to her. When nothing but hot coals remained in the brazier, he threw on a number of pungent herbs and resins as he chanted under his breath. A plume of smoke coiled up from the coals, filling the room.

  Arie coughed, her lungs stinging. The smoke was so thick she could no longer see more than a few inches in front of her. The priest and the guards were concealed, so it was little wonder that she recoiled in surprise when the priest, still half-obscured, stepped forward out of the smoke. In his hands, he held a long, thick needle, the tip slightly hooked. A cruel smile twisted his lips as he approached her.

  “Be at rest, child. The Mother demands that the taint be pulled from your blood amid the sacramental smoke. I shall release your blood from the holy centers that you be cleansed.”

  “Like hell you will!” Arie barked, backpedaling wildly over the mattress until she touched down on the floor on the other side of the bed. The priest frowned at her and reached out a hand to grip her by the arm.

  “There is no need to fear. You are in the presence of the most holy,” he murmured. The priest licked his lips with his thick, wet tongue as his eyes raked over her. Arie felt her skin crawl and yanked on her arm. “The Mother desires all her children to surrender to her selected prefects who serve her in their duties.”

  Arie whipped her arm around. “I will not surrender to the likes of you,” she hissed. “There is nothing holy about what you are doing here. I demand that you leave!”

  He blinked at her in confusion, his eyes watering badly from the smoke. “I do not think you understand.”

  “I understand more than enough. I do not recognize your authority or any of those aligned with the Order.”

  He pursed his lips. “You are clearly possessed by the influence of the taint. I must begin my work immediately. The evil planted within you is growing.” He lifted the needle but as he brought it down Arie shifted out of the way. As the needle slid harmlessly through the air, she brought her knee up into his gut. The priest collapsed on his knees and Arie didn’t hesitate to bring her fist down into his temple. He squealed in pain.

  “Guards! I beg you now—assist me!” he shrieked.

  Arie brought her foot up to kick him in the face when she was lifted off her feet by the burly, green-clad guards. As one they pulled her back until she fell flat against the bed. She struggled against their vice-like grip without success. The priest approached, a small smile still on his lips despite the blood that he caught with a small fabric of cloth pressed against his nose. Arie twisted from side to side as he approached with the needle.

  “Very good. Hold her still now, gentlemen, and the Mother who is most merciful will reward you richly for your service.”

  “As long as that payment comes in coin,” one of the guards muttered under his breath so low that Arie almost didn’t catch it. The other guard covered his laugh beneath a cough. Although they clearly didn’t believe in the zealous ramblings of the priest, Arie knew she would have no help from that quarter. The loyalty of the guards was already bought and paid for by her grandmother.

  With a smile that progressively widened as he drew closer, the priest drew up her nightgown, his cock tenting his robes noticeably as he placed the tip of the three-inch hook against her pubic bone. There he bore down. It wasn’t deep enough to do any significant damage, but it hurt, nonetheless. Arie felt blood dribbling down over her mons and between her thighs. He repeated the process again at her navel, then in the soft tissue just beneath her breasts. She twisted, attempting to break free from the grip of the guards, but their hands were like metal bands on her. The chanting became a meaningless drone, adding to the torture inflicted on her.

  Once he was content that she’d bled enough while exposed to the sacramental smoke, the priest rose above her, metal tongs clenching a hot coal. Arie’s eyes widened and she renewed her struggles as it drew closer. The first contact with her wound almost brought her up off the bed, a scream tearing from her throat. Twice more she endured the same treatment as he “sealed” her wounds. Sweat broke out over her body as she shuddered in agony.

  He grinned down at her with obvious delight. “You are now purified, daughter of the House of Avernel. May you now find favor in the eyes of the Mother as you prepare to receive your upcoming joining with your lord and master of the First Elite of the Order.”

  Tears gathered beneath her eyelashes, her body wracked with pain. In her heart, something solidified: an iron determination to get far away from the Citadel, her grandmother and his lordship. No one would be her master. She yielded to none but the authority and protection of her mates. One way or another, the First Elite Edwar was going to be very disappointed.

  27

  Even with the accelerated healing of a Ragoru, it took Kyx three days to recover enough for their triad to move from the cave and begin the search for signs of their mate. Warol had been out every day hunting the surrounding perimeter and found signs of the encampment late on the second day. He’d not investigated, but rather came back to the cave to report his findings. Kyx had wanted to investigate the camp right away and had been crawling to his feet with his determination to leave. It was only by Rager’s insistence that he give his body another night to heal that he’d been convinced to lay back down.

  Kyx resented his mending body that prevented them from searching for their mate. It was bad enough that he wrestled with his shame for his inability to protect Arie, regardless of how many times his brothers attempted to reassure him he had fought admirably. But that he was powerless to leap to his feet and track the men who stole their mate frustrated him every minute that he’d been confined to rest.

  Being able to finally get on the trail early the third morning was nothing short of a relief.

  The smell of the camp was the first thing that hit him, long before he saw it. Although it had been of sufficient distance to prevent them from scenting it in their regular patrols around the cave, it was easy to identify once they came near. Whatever substance the humans had used to cover their scents they had not used within the confines of their own camp. The entire area reeked of no fewer than fifteen individual stale scent signatures. The scent of the huntsmen made Kyx’s stomach turn. The smell of sour sweat and male musk blended with a noxious smell of burnt plant material. He gagged and Warol grinned at him mockingly from nearby.

  Warol’s smile slipped as they neared a cloth structure that smelled of their mate and death. It was one of very few half-collapsed structures in the dirt clearing. Saplings were bent at odd angles from where they’d been lashed or trampled, and the grass was flattened. The flap of the structure fluttered from one side. Kyx’s stomach roiled as fear rose rapidly through him.

  Were they too late?

  His steps slowed with dread, but Rager pushed ahead of them with a deep growl. Although he did not wish to see what lay within the human shelter, he refused to linger outside while the others investigated. He owed their mate better than that. Swallowing his nausea, Kyx followed behind Warol as they slipped inside behind Rager.

  The scent of rot was particularly strong inside, overwhelmingly so. Kyx slowed with reluctance at the sight of a bloodied body, every part of him rebelling at the idea of seeing his mate’s tortured remains. His ear twitched as Rager drew a shaky breath and made a choked sound in the back of his throat that sounded much like relief to Kyx’s ears.

  “It is not her,” Rager whispered.

  Kyx pushed forward, his heart hammering. His eyes widened at the sad remains as he drew near. Rager was correct; it was not Arie. The body was bigger, and beneath the blood had a fine coat of fur and what was left of three mangled breasts were clearly visible. Kyx exchanged a look with Warol. Why would anyone have savag
ed that female so brutally?

  “Is that…?”

  Warol sighed, his face etched with sympathy, and nodded. “The ehurmu female. They must have discovered that Arie was with us from her and used her to track us.”

  “I wonder what they could have possibly offered her that was worth her complicity. Seems it didn’t work out so well for her,” Kyx said.

  Rager stepped past the body of the female, pacing around the space, his nostrils flaring as he searched for the scent trail of their mate. He circled twice, his fur standing on end, before dropping back out the doorway. Kyx followed close on the heels of his lead, taking in trace smells muddled together as they appeared to eventually depart from the camp. It became clear to him that whoever took Arie had left the area together, heading north through the forest toward the mountains and the Citadel.

  Kneeling in the dirt, he traced his fingers over the marks of horses and the ruts of wagon wheels, all of them heading in the same direction. Warol arrived at his side, his muzzle wrinkling as he also looked down at the marks. An odor of death clung to the male that stung Kyx’s nose. Warol’s yellow eyes slid over to him, and he grimaced.

  “I couldn’t just leave her lying there,” he said.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone that you are a compassionate soul,” Kyx whispered. Warol flattened his ears in mock irritation, his eyes flashing.

  “Good of you to do so,” Warol replied, a grin flashing over his face. He gestured to the tracks with one of his free hands. “It appears they took her with them and are heading directly for the Citadel.”

  Kyx nodded. “Yes, so it seems. It is strange though; I would have expected trouble to come from the village. No one in the Citadel would have known anything of Arie.”

  Warol hummed low in his throat. “What purpose would they have taking her there?”

  “Maybe it has nothing to do with the village. It is possible that the village instigated an investigation, but the Order is operating for its own purposes now.” Kyx started at the deep growl of Rager’s voice as he joined them. The lead made sense, but it still left the question of why unanswered. Arie never spoke of the Order at all. Her sole interest in journeying to the Citadel was to be reunited with her grandmother.

  They departed from the camp without further conversation and followed the trail. They ran at a steady pace through the forest, their tails extended past their haunches for added balance as they whipped through the trees. By the end of the day the forest opened up on the steep incline of the Harrowed Mountains.

  The cool gray rocks were a grim sight. Not only was the pale stone atmosphere dreary, but the air was cold, and snow resiliently clung in many places as they moved into higher elevations. At the end of the day, they made camp with a quick meal of a kid goat they found separated from its dam and settled in with weary reluctance.

  As always when they bedded down over the last few days, Kyx missed the warm pressure of Arie between them. He’d become so accustomed to her scent that his anxiety spiked with its absence. He could barely detect the traces of her perfume in their fur any longer. He knew from looking at his brothers it was something that they were all finding particularly distressful. In the end, none spoke a word as they curled around each other for added warmth against the chill of the wind.

  It was high in those mountains that they caught a familiar scent. This one was burdened with the overlapping scents of many others. It was clear in Kyx’s senses, burned into his memory. He had floated between consciousness and death but remembered the scent of the huntsman who’d come close to him and the chilling sentence he issued. The other huntsmen were no less vile, but this male was the lead among them.

  Hatred burning in his gut, Kyx caught Rager’s eye and gestured for the male to draw closer. Rager drew up to his flank, his eyes burning with curiosity. Warol took notice and dropped down the rocks at his other side.

  “Do you smell the huntsman nearby?”

  His brothers jerked their heads to confirm, their pupils dilating with interest. All of them had been looking forward to confronting the huntsmen since Arie was stolen from their family.

  “That is the male who was leading the huntsmen who attacked us.”

  Warol’s lips peeled back from his teeth. “You are certain, brother?”

  “Without a doubt. He stood close enough that I was able to catch scent of him, and even as addled as I was at that moment, I cannot forget the cruel sound of his voice any more than I can the vile smell of him.”

  Rager inclined his head. “Then we will pay this huntsman a visit. We will hunt him as he has hunted us. We will get our answers, and then it will be him that is left alone and dying in the midst of the woods with no hope of comfort.”

  Kyx and Warol snarled their agreement as one. Every member of their triad was eager for the insult and harm done to their family to be satisfied. They slipped among the rocks with the sort of silence that only Ragoru could achieve. It was ridiculously easy to track the huntsman. His trail was so blatant; a rog could have tracked him. When they came across his camp, they watched from the shelter of the rocks as the human leaned over a fire, a metal pan held over the stove, not unlike some of those used by his mother.

  The huntsman stilled. If he had been Ragoru, Kyx would have imagined the male’s ear and peripheral eye turning toward their position. Although they’d made little noise, the human sensed the hand of his death looming near. Perhaps it was the chill breath of his own ancestors or gods warning him? A hand moved down the human’s side, reaching for the projectile weapon on his belt.

  Without warning, Warol snarled at his side and leaped from the rocks into the path of the huntsman. The human cried out and shifted backward, stumbling over a log sticking out of the fire, his pan dropped forgotten into the flames. He attempted to draw his weapon upright, but Warol seized the human’s arm in one hand while another wrenched the weapon away. Warol didn’t even glance at it before he tossed it over the side of the mountain, his sole focus on the human held tightly within his grip.

  The huntsman grazed Warol with the tip of the knife he pulled out with his opposite hand, an ugly laugh bursting out of him as he watched them with a certain wild madness. The male was not weak. His muscles strained with his effort as he fought against Warol’s hold, and several cuts seeped blood down the silver male’s chest, arms, and sides. Alone, his strength was no match for a healthy, mature Ragoru. Warol’s face twisted into a ferocious grin as Rager stepped forward, his massive size casting a shadow over the human. Kyx tried to imagine how his brother appeared to the human male. Did he imagine Warol was the very personification of his own death, like the black-shrouded figure his mother liked to regale him with when he was a rog?

  The human began to shake, and the tremors became more noticeable as Rager drew closer. Yet, despite his signs of fear, a wild smile stretched across his face and he panted with a strange mixture of excitement and fear.

  “Magnificent,” the huntsman said with a laugh. “I knew if I were patient, you would come and look for your whore, that you would track me despite the concealing fragrance of distilled night-dew flowers, but never had I imagined such a specimen.”

  Rager’s eyes narrowed to slits at him, with utter malevolence, and even Kyx felt a ripple of fear skitter up his back at the expression leveled at the human. He leaned down so his muzzle was level with the male’s face, his breath stirring the huntsman’s mane. Very slowly his lips pulled back from his teeth, showing his long fangs.

  “You have only one opportunity to answer me truthfully. I will know if you lie, and any you utter will be met with harsh punishment. Now tell me—where is our mate?”

  The huntsman giggled, the sound at odds with the bulk of a male in his prime. Although much smaller than a Ragoru, Kyx recalled that this male had rivaled the others beneath him in size. This was not the sort of reaction Kyx would have suspected.

  “Surely you must know by now. You are headed toward the Citadel, after all.” The huntsman laughed again
.

  “Why take her there?”

  “Ahhh, now that is the mystery, isn’t it? Were it up to me, I would have killed her there in that little cave we found her holed up in with your brethren. Or taken her back to the village to answer for her crimes and then killed her. But it seems the powers that be in the Citadel want her alive.”

  Rager’s ears flattened and his lips dropped over his teeth as he regarded the human with confusion. Warol hissed from where he stood, still clenching the human from behind, and shook the male with a few careless snaps of his wrists.

  “Who wants our Arie?” Warol snarled, his limited patience finally showing signs of cracking. Really, he’d lasted longer than Kyx would have given him credit for. The huntsman didn’t answer, but just let loose more of his shrill laughter as Warol shook him. The dull crack of bone as his head flopped forward finally silenced the horrible laughter as the light died out of the male’s eyes. Warol dropped him with a grunt of disgust.

  Rager toed the corpse and sighed. “That wasn’t quite as we discussed, Warol.”

  Warol lifted all four of his arms in an unrepentant shrug. “He was annoying me. Besides, we weren’t going to get anything more from him.”

  “Did you have to kill him so quickly though?” Kyx complained as he joined his brothers, his muzzle wrinkling in disdain as he glared down at the man who’d brought terror into their family. At that, a smile peeked out on his brother’s face and he rubbed the back of his ear with one hand.

  “Ah, yes. I do admit that was a bit… anticlimactic.”

  With one foot, Kyx kicked with enough force to shove the body off the edge of a cliff just beyond the campsite. He was comforted that, wherever the male landed, his remains would never be found. He would sustain the living things of the forest as was fit. His eyes landed on a sturdy leather bag sitting beside the fire. Kyx’s ears perked toward it and he lifted it up. The bag smelled of Arie, and he immediately pressed his face into its soft side. Hands shaking, he lowered the bag and pulled it open. Tucked inside were her medicines and treasured belongings. He sighed with relief when he noticed that nothing was missing.