“I am sure we will be fine, Grandmother,” Arie returned, wanting more than anything for the conversation to end. Madelin was positively wilting into the rug before her. Their grandmother opened her mouth as if to say more but then clamped it shut, her jaw tightening as she gave Arie’s reflection a cool nod.
“Very well. I will leave you to finish your preparations. As you know, I haven’t been well today so I will not be able to attend the party, but the guards will accompany you and will be reporting back to me, so do not think that either of you will get away with any shenanigans in my absence.”
“Yes, Grandmother,” Arie and Madelin replied obediently.
Their grandmother walked serenely out the door, followed by the maid who smiled at them before hastening through the door before the guards closed it. Madelin took a deep breath and sank down onto the cushioned couch off to the side. Arie turned away from the mirror and met her cousin’s eyes. A tiny smile tugged at the corners of Madelin’s mouth.
“You do look very lovely,” she whispered. “Only during the most special occasions are we allowed a bit more…color. The engagement party and joining ceremony of are always important events that allow us to vary our wardrobe a bit.”
“It is… pretty. But I confess it is far more uncomfortable than I am used to.”
Madelin scooted closer conspiringly, her smile widening. “I heard that when you arrived, you were wearing nothing more than a deerskin dress without a stitch of underclothing. Is that true?”
“Well, yes. I didn’t have much to begin with and my sole set became ruined during the course of the winter when Warol—uh, one of my mates, handled them a bit too roughly.”
Her cousin’s eyes widened. “So it is true,” she trilled. “You were mated to Ragoru? What was that like?”
“Madelin…” she began.
Her cousin waved her hand with a grimace. “Maddi, please. I hate the name Madelin. That was the name of Grandmother Vera’s mother, and she was just as cold and horrible as she is.”
“Maddi, then. This doesn’t bother you?”
Her question was greeted with soft laughter from her cousin. “Oh, gracious, no. I am quite jealous, truth be told. To have someone to love you… not many women can find that, not when women outnumber men five to one. Yet you have three who love you.”
“Two,” she amended sadly. “I have two. My Kyx,” she choked back a sob. “He was killed by the huntsmen when they captured me. I watched them do it.” Arie sank down onto the couch beside her cousin, her eyes filling with tears. “I was so happy. For all of the winter before they came. My mates are everything good in my life,” she said, tears streaming freely down her face. “Not only do they love me more than I ever could have imagined, but with them, I never felt afraid. I love them so much. Rager, Warol, Kyx. They are all so unique and special to me. They are my family. I didn’t want to come back to the Citadel.”
Maddi’s eyes filled with tears and she wrapped her fingers around Arie’s hand. “It was wrong for them to bring you back here. More so that it resulted in the death of your mate. If you had love and a family, to drag you here is terribly cruel. Especially only to be joined with Edwar.”
Arie clutched Maddi’s hand. “Will you help me escape?”
“I… I will. What they are doing violates your wishes… it is wrong.”
“What do you know of Edwar, Maddi?”
“Not much, I admit,” she said, dropping her voice to a whisper. “Enough to know that I am very glad he overlooked me. I hear rumors of his cruelty. He collects Ragoru pelts, and from what I hear, he once kept one of their young for three years torturing it until it finally died of terrible wounds. A fisherman found the little one and said it was so badly mangled that he wasn’t sure if it had been a child or a dog.”
“Oh, my blessed gods,” Arie whispered in horror. Her cousin nodded in commiseration. A guard cleared his throat making them both look up guiltily toward the door. The young man dared a small smile and bowed.
“My apologies for interrupting, but your conveyance has arrived for you.”
“Of course,” Maddi said, returning his smile. Arie was not fooled by the way her cousin’s hand tightened over her own. “Just give us a minute. I’m afraid I smudged Arie a bit. We will be down presently.” The guard stepped out with a bow, and with a careful hand Maddi touched up Arie’s make up until she was satisfied that she once again looked untouched by her grief.
“We had best get on our way then, Arie. Grandmother will be displeased if we are late.” She drew Arie to the door, her face morphing as it swung open. “It wouldn’t do for the lady of the hour to be late to her own party,” Maddi trilled, her face lighting with a certain silliness that Arie understood was a mask.
The guard bowed again and shut the door behind them. As they walked down the corridor, Maddi leaned forward and whispered, “We need to go before they begin to wonder what is taking us so long. Don’t leave my side even for a moment. You can’t trust any of the huntsmen.”
“Aren’t your brothers and our cousins all huntsmen? Are you saying there is not one among them we can trust?”
Maddi clenched her jaw and met her eye. “No, not one. Those men are not the boys I grew up with. They are just as cruel and warped as Edwar. All the huntsmen are. I have watched my own brothers do horrible things that I would rather not remember.”
Arie clutched her cousin’s fingers tight, their clasped hands hidden between their voluminous gowns as they walked together down the stairs to the main foyer. The guards preceding them opened the doors and helped them into the carriage. Arie swallowed as it jolted forward, rattling down the road heading to Edwar’s mansion adjoining the property of the Order.
The sun was sinking below the horizon as the carriage pulled up to a mansion that came close to rivaling that of her grandmother’s. Arie stepped out, barely paying the guard assisting her any mind as she stared up at the monstrosity of a building that lacked in taste and gentler lines. With Maddi by her side, Arie was able to summon enough courage to step through the door. A butler took their furred cloaks and directed them to follow a maid to the ballroom.
Her nerves nearly failed upon entering the ballroom. The walls of the room were nothing but mirrors reflecting the crush of bodies and the numerous sconces on the walls. The room itself was garish with gold inlay and tile upon the floor. It was entirely unexpected in a society that put emphasis on dark, subdued colors. Inexplicably, Arie felt overheated. Every eye turned to her, and Edwar gave her a predatory smile from where he stood at the center of the ballroom. He turned to speak to the men and ladies around him, all who gave her knowing looks, before he stepped forward to greet her.
He drew her free hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of her glove, his eyes smoldering with his intentions. “Arie, welcome to my home… soon to be your home as well,” he said with a chuckle. Arie ducked her head so he didn’t see her lips twist with distaste. She wanted nothing to do with him or the pile of masonry he called his house. “Come,” he invited. “Let me introduce you and show you around. Ah, Madelin, a pleasure to see you as always. Please do accompany us.”
Maddi tittered beside her and they made their way through the ballroom. Before long, one face began to blend into another as Edwar introduced her to everyone. There were distinguished lords and ladies, as well as high ranking huntsmen who leered at the serving women who attempted to serve drinks without being molested. Voices constantly seemed to whisper preceding and following their path around the ballroom, ladies talking behind their fans and gentleman leaning in close. Eyes focused on her with a sort of ruthless knowing that she found unnerving no matter where she went, so much that Arie was relieved when the evening finally wound down to its conclusion.
Edwar pulled her under his arm as he raised his champagne flute and addressed the crowd. “I want to thank everyone who came to meet my intended. As you are likely now aware, our joining celebration is in five days and will be held at Lady Vera’s ancestr
al estate. Please join me in raising your glass to Arie, the Lady Anwar.”
Flutes raised and Arie gripped the stem of her own glass, her entire body numb as Edwar turned her in his arms, hauled her up against his body and crushed her mouth beneath his own. She gagged as he forced his tongue between her lips, but she managed to remain docile until he pulled back, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
When Maddi finally left her to the peace of her bedroom sometime later that night, Arie vomited the contents of her stomach as her body desperately tried to rid itself of the memory of his touch and taste. After she cleansed herself the best she could, she retired to her bed where she curled up on the mattress, desperately wondering if her mates would find her in time.
She was expected to join in only five days and then Edwar would own her body by law, and she’d be forced to submit to him. Despite the warmth of the bedding, a coldness crept inside her, insidious and chilling.
Her hand smoothed over her belly as she tried to find her center and calm her nerves. Stress wouldn’t be good for her baby, nor would it help her situation. She needed to think clearly and plan her escape. She was no longer alone. Still, some part of her cried out for her mates, afraid of the danger she faced.
Please find me, she silently begged her mates. I don’t know if I can find my way without you.
31
For three days, the Master of the Guild kept Rager and his triad brothers hidden within the Court of the Thieves while he sent runners out to investigate the matter. For three days, terrible unknown yawned before them like a great chasm. Rager knew that it was for the protection of everyone involved. While they’d managed to go unnoticed that first night, it would’ve been only a matter of time before someone struck up the alarm alerting the huntsmen of the presence of Ragoru in the Citadel.
Cyrus sat lopsided in his chair drinking from a cup of fermented fruit that burned Rager’s nose whenever he went near. He didn’t understand how humans could drink the stuff. The human’s fingers stroked through his beard, his expression thoughtful despite the slight glaze over his eyes. He suddenly raised his cup and salted the triad, his smile cocky.
“Ragoru and a human woman… it is really quite titillating. Tell me, if you mate in triads, do you all join in all at once or just one at a time?”
Rager rolled his eyes and endeavored to ignore the over-jovial human. Warol was less forgiving of the thief-master and growled low in his throat.
“What business is it of yours?” he growled, his fur noticeably bristling.
Rather than be offended by Warol’s belligerence, the male laughed heartily. “I am merely curious. Human women can be such timid creatures, unadventurous to try something so completely alien to what they are accustomed. I am just curious how three of you managed to talk a woman into accepting you.”
Kyx looked up from where he’d been studiously examining a map of the city. Tim had spent an hour teaching him how to read it the day before, and now Kyx was utterly fascinated as he examined the various buildings marked out. He frowned at Cyrus.
“You speak of mating as if it involves some sort of trickery.”
“Dear Kyx, mating is all trickery. It is putting forth one’s gambit and hoping that it pays off and lures just the right woman into your den.”
Rager shook his head, dragged unwillingly into the conversation despite himself. “Ragoru do not mate in such a fashion. The female chooses. We show you what we may offer, the best of us, and hope for a mate.”
“Ah, but your kind suffers from a lack of females. Our people are blessed with overabundance. Not one of these fine young women walking around would hesitate to drop to her knees and suck my cock if I so willed it. They are eager for attention,” he said as he winked flirtatiously at a young woman passing, his lips puckering into the human kiss gesture.
Rager made a disgusted noise and turned away. The human seemed to have a never-ending stream of willing females. Cyrus chuckled and leaned back in his chair.
“Aww, don’t look so disapproving, Rager. It is a sweet life; you should try it.”
Rager’s muscles tensed with suppressed anger at the suggestion. “I would never betray my mate in such a way.”
“Oh, you mean you’re incapable of enjoying the pleasure of another woman… physically, that is?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Rager snapped. “The Ragoru are not so different. However, my brothers and I choose to honor our mate and maintain our self-respect.”
Cyrus turned in his chair until he was on his belly, his eyes narrowed with fascination. “It is probable that your mate will not be returned before another has defiled her. What then?”
“If a male did such a thing to my mate, I would be forced to rip off his member and shove it down his throat,” Rager returned calmly.
The sound of the cup clattering against the floor made him look up at the shocked face of the thief-master. Cyrus sputtered and coughed before swallowing noticeably, his face ashen. “That will make quite the statement,” he wheezed.
Rager’s mouth quirked. It was better for the human not to get any ideas when it came to their mate. Not that his questions or observations were strange to Rager by this time. Over the last few days, they’d settled into a routine, where Cyrus insulted them or asked inappropriate questions. If it weren’t for the fact that he had seen glimpses of the genuinely good heart the male possessed, he would be less inclined to remain as his “guest.”
A group of young ones—children, he corrected himself—came rushing in with excitement, their arms laden with various foods that they’d swiped from a place of trade. Rager was fuzzy on the details since Ragoru did not have such systems, but he still appreciated their direct actions against human laws of governance.
The first time he’d witnessed it, he questioned Cyrus at length about it. During that discussion, all frivolity had dropped away from the human’s face as he told him of how the nobles and huntsmen starve the rest of the population. People labored extensively for bits of metal they called coin, which could be traded for food. Rager had found the entire discussion baffling until he was told that regulations and extensive fees prohibit people from hunting beyond the Citadel for fresh meat. So, they took what they needed from the Citadel that would be happy to let them die from hunger.
A pair of older children held up a rooter, small than the wild ones that he and his triad hunted. It was still sufficient meat. Six slaughtered rooters were smuggled into the tunnel by the resourceful young ones. Spits were immediately set over open fires, and the atmosphere turned festive as the thieves gathered with what little they had to share among themselves. He felt honored to be included.
People who’d initially been shy and hesitant now shared with his triad as if they were one of them, passing food and drink to them as they would their own. Although his stomach pinched with pain, and no doubt for his brothers’ as well, his triad by mutual agreement took little of the offered food. Despite the bounty spread before them, it was clear that such meals were far between. If anyone deserved a full belly, it was the children.
Rager was taken with the little ones. Of all humans, they’d shown little fear of the triad, and more than once he and his brothers woke to find children curled up with them where they slept. Even now a small female chewed on the crisped tail of a rooter, her dark eyes shining up at him. They were so similar to rogs, despite their flatter faces and furless bodies. The shape and expressions before a rog grew into their adult features were quite similar. Even their ceaseless chatter and carefree play was common between their species. He doubted anyone among the humans or Ragoru had the opportunity to observe similarities held with the other species in such a way before.
A woman’s voice cut through his observations, her laughter shrill. It grated on his nerves, but his curiosity was piqued as she spoke.
“Can you imagine,” she laughed with the other women at her side, “all the huntsmen and nobles in the Citadel are in a tizzy over this girl. Lady Anwar, they are calling her
. A direct descendant of the first Lady Anwar. She just appeared out of nowhere and was claimed by the First Elite.”
“Bah, must be a rumor started by the First Elite,” another muttered with a shake of her head.
“No, I saw her myself. Regal looking, she is,” a third whispered eagerly. “Looks the spitting image of the portraits in the great museum.”
“Really, Rita, and how would you know what those look like?” the second asked.
“Because, Polly, unlike some, my looks are still good enough to attract the finer gentlemen who visit the museums,” Rita retorted with a snicker. Polly’s face flushed with anger and Rager half-expected her to strike the younger female, but the first intervened in time
“Cool it, girls,” she snapped. “We don’t need to be pecking at each other. The gracious gods know that the higher-ups tear us down plenty all by themselves.”
Polly and Rita nodded their heads, both wearing weary expressions. Polly nudged Rita after a long moment, her eyes crinkling with amusement.
“I heard from the stable boy that she appeared in the dead of night with a whole mass of hunters. I wonder where they might have gotten her from to have such a large escort?”
Rager felt his heart pound; he could almost hear it in his ears. He crouched among them, ignoring the flutter of their skirts as they backed from him and regarded him cautiously. He nearly winced for alarming them with his sudden movement.
“My apologies,” he rasped. “I did not intend to startle you. This female you saw… did she have red hair?”
“No, sir,” Rita murmured, glancing away with signs of discomfort. “I didn’t get a terribly clear look at her, but her hair was black as night.”
Polly chortled. “Rita, you know that don’t mean anything. The higher-ups wear wigs if they are born unfortunate as Peg was. Remember, she had to shave her hair down to the scalp and cover it with a sash every day under threat of punishment from the guard.”
Rita hummed in agreement and looked to the first among them. “What do you think, Lara? You got a look too. Do you think it could be a wig?”
Red: A Dystopian World Alien Romance Page 24
