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And it worked sometimes because Korzien only laughed. "I'll bet that wasn't very nice," he said. "Give her to Azil. He will have a good time keeping her quiet."

"Fine." Zyr looked to Jamie with a frown similar to his father's. "I guess I'll take this one. Maybe it will be out of tears by First Night and I won't have to look at its whimpering face."

After that, Aly was subjected much more to Korzien's presence. And, even then, she was mostly ignored, sitting beside him where he didn't so much as look at her as he talked with the others. But when he did look, he gave her a hard, thoughtful stare that lasted until someone got his attention.

Aly did not cower before him. Sometimes she even met his gaze with a hard stare of her own. She did not shout profanities or physically fight them, but she didn't cry or beg either. All she did was wait. For that was all she could do. Because the only chance they had was in Ryziel. And she knew he was coming for them. For her. He had to be.

***

On one particular sundown, Korzien once again commanded her to him. She was prepared for another dinner party where she would sit in obedient silence and be ignored. Maybe he would look at her again, and maybe she would look back at him and there would be nothing there but hate (except maybe a brief stab of pain as she gazed on a man who looked too much like her Ryziel). Then she would return to her room as if nothing happened, take out her sketchbook that she had secreted under her bed, and flip through the pages, maybe even draw a sketch or two if she wasn't feeling a lot worse than usual. Yes, she expected the same routine.

But Korzien always had a way of shattering her expectations.

"You know, girl," he said after a moment of staring. He never actually cared to call her by her name even, though he knew what it was. "There isn't much to be proud of in having you as my chosen one. You humans are so plain and small and, well, simple really." He said this in front of his nillium brethren, even in the middle of another's conversation, cutting off their story about a pair of grex they met in one of the cities to the south. "There's really not much there that one would say is especially fascinating or impressive, wouldn't you agree, Azil?"

The nillium sitting across the table from them looked over at her then nodded his head in agreement.

"And yet. There is something. Maybe it’s just the Drega stirring. That instinctual need to mate, you know? It's such an odd feeling, though, to feel it for you."

Aly said nothing. She dared not even move as he settled himself closer to her.

"It's actually kind of...what's the word? Aggravating."

Aly remained still and didn't turn her head to look away from him. She licked her lips, knowing she shouldn't say a word but doing so anyway. "If I irritate you so much, perhaps you can dismiss me from your presence."

Korzien waved his hand and sighed. "I'm afraid that won't be any good. But it does make me wonder something. There are only five of you and a whole lot more nillium. Many sons that need to be made. I hate to think what kind of trouble that could entail. And I really don't want to have to kill you if it comes to it."

Aly kept herself from flinching, just barely, her eyes never leaving his. His hand stroked down her arm then took her hand. "It’s like a need to keep you from others. Which is a problem because I will be expected to share you." His thumb grazed over her palm while he thought. "And the other girls can't take on all the burden. They will break so easily." He sighed again and dropped her hand. "Something will have to be done."

Aly didn't want to wonder what he might be thinking. She also didn't care for the idea of getting killed because he didn't want to share her. Not that she wanted to be shared either. He rubbed at his temples and his receptors before looking at her again. "Nihl works in mysterious ways. Why he would force his firstborn to mate with a low breed is worrying enough. But to have us feel for them is just as disturbing. Tell me, do you agree?"

The other nillium men nodded. Their eyes all drew toward her in a way that made Aly's stomach squirm.

He tapped a finger on her shoulder. "It is a fault which we nillium cannot have. Do you know why, girl?"

Aly swallowed hard. "No."

"Did they not teach you anything at that refugee facility? Tell me you know, then, what nillium means?"

"I don't know."

"It means perfect. As Nihl is perfect. But this union feels far from it. And, though I pray to Nihl for understanding, I cannot grasp the reason."

Aly said nothing, but in her mind, she saw an image of herself smiling wickedly at him. 'On my world,' her thought-self said, 'On my world, Nihl means nothing. Literally nothing at all, you son of a bitch. You are nothing. You mean nothing.'

She didn't voice it, but she hoped he saw the thought in her eyes.

He sat back and regarded her, a frown twisting his perfect features as if he had heard her after all. "Yes," he whispered. "Something will have to be done."

***

A couple more days passed. The women continued to talk, to try and form a plan, but that was all. And when they weren't talking, they were sitting around or walking and occasionally crying. Kate, now leader of the remaining crew, did her best to keep things together, to organize their gatherings, to be there to listen or be their shoulder to cry on, but Aly could see her self-control slipping day by day. Many times, Aly found her sitting alone, weeping quietly, calling out Julian's name.

The others were still trying to cope in the only ways they could. Jamie had resorted to mute silence, barely saying a word save for a few mumbles, and Cilia talked the loudest, the angriest, but had little to say that was worth saying.

Sarah surprisingly, was much more calm, much more cheerful. It was nice to see her optimism at first, until they realized it wasn't because she expected them to escape but that she had already given up entirely on the idea that they ever would, accepting that this was their new life. Many times, they watched with dread as she smiled and hummed to the child in her arms, watching their inevitable future before their very eyes.

Aly helped in any way she could, but she too found herself slipping away, sometimes for hours, just to stare out at nothing. An awful paranoia had begun to seep into her mind, one thought being that she could not even whisper Ryziel's name inside the house in fear that someone would hear and know he was coming. That they would find him, and he would be stopped before he could save them. It was why she hadn't brought herself to speak a word of what she knew to the others, even though it could bring them hope (regardless of whether they actually believed her). And when that thought didn't drive her mad, the second thought surely did: that Ryziel would come, but he wouldn't try to save them.