Page 14

Chapter 13

Aruan

M y mate’s rejection stings. We were a heartbeat away from fucking, from sealing our physical bond. One more breath, and she would’ve taken what can only be hers for eternity. I was a whisper away from impaling her on my cock and filling her with my seed, my mark. And then she changed her mind like the capricious western wind. That I can forgive her for. That I can understand. But not the shame that painted her face red. Anything but the horror that transformed her doll-like features.

Vitai says nothing, but the smirk remains plastered on his face while he heals me. I don’t need Kian’s power to know my youngest brother’s thoughts. He thinks I’ve finally met my match, and it amuses him.

Well, he can go jump off the bridge. This situation isn’t funny in the least.

When he’s done, he leaves without a word, knowing it’s dangerous to provoke me when I’m in a dark mood. That mood is also the reason I don’t approach Elsie where she stands in front of the window with her back turned to me, pretending she hasn’t heard me enter the bedroom. The stiffening of her narrow shoulders tells me she’s aware of my footsteps on the floor.

She’s changed into a pale-pink dress and clean slippers. The ones she wore this morning must be muddy. They’re not very practical for walking outside. Boots are for men, but she would’ve been better equipped for our stroll with a pair.

In the afternoon light that streams through the window, her hair shines like ruddy moonbeams. Her smell drifts to me on the breeze, the faint womanly scent of her arousal still teasing my nostrils. They flare as I inhale deeply.

Dragons.

It’s best that I don’t hang around her when her body is ripe but her mind and heart are unwilling. Especially not when the killing rage in my veins hasn’t completely abated. I’d never harm my mate, but I’m too explosive to face her, too close to ripping that dress off her body and finishing what we started.

Choosing wisdom in lieu of desire, I only linger long enough to grab a clean set of clothes from the trunk. I don’t look at Elsie as I shove my legs into the pants, pull the tunic over my head, and fasten my boots.

As I walk from the room, an uncomfortable ache settles in my chest, almost like a persistent hiccup under my breastbone. I rub a fist over the spot in a futile attempt to ease the pain.

My father waits in my mother’s quarters. He hovers next to the daybed on which she’s reclined, poised like a big, brooding shadow over her. Suno is there, pressing a cool cloth to her forehead.

Concern eradicates most of the volatile anger and bitter disappointment that, together with frustration, war inside me. My mother isn’t faking her weakness. She’s truly ill, and despite what she may have done, what I know she did, I hate to see her like this.

“How is she?” I ask my father, taking in her half-mast eyelids and laborious breathing.

“Exhausted,” he replies tightly. “She should’ve been focusing on healing, not on waging a war.”

“Without the queen, it would’ve been a hopeless situation,” Suno says.

“Never hopeless.” I take my mother’s limp, clammy hand. “I had it under control.”

My father’s voice is grim. “Tarix told me what happened.” He dips his head and holds my gaze. “You know what that means.”

My jaw tightens. “We have a traitor in our midst.”

“The attack was too well timed.” My father lifts a cup of water from the side table. “The Phaelix knew when our guards would be away and our defenses weakened, which means someone told them.” He dips a finger in the water and drags it over my mother’s cracked lips. “I personally sealed the window archways giving access to the exterior, yet one was open, and it just so happened to be in the kitchen, well away from where we were occupied in the fight.”

My father looks between Suno and me, leaving the rest unsaid, namely that someone opened the archway deliberately.

Someone on the inside of the palace is working with the Phaelix, but why the dragon would anyone do that? The only thing I can think of is that they must be power hungry, enough so to risk everything in order to overthrow our reign.

“Let’s hope Kian finds the traitor,” Suno says with a sigh, pushing to his feet. His smile is condescending. “I’d like to know what reward the Phaelix offered for such an act of treachery. It must’ve been of very high value. Why else would anyone betray their own people?”

“You’d be surprised what motivations and ambitions drive some individuals,” my father says, his face twisted into a wry expression.

I study my mother’s washed-out features. “Will she be all right?”

“Vitai thinks so,” my father replies.

I carefully lay her hand back on the covers. “How long does he think her recovery will take?”

“It’s difficult to tell.” My father inhales deeply. “Depleting what little energy she had left in the battle didn’t help.”

“What matters is that she rests,” Suno says, fixing us with a pointed look.

My father puts the cup aside and tells Suno, “Stay with her and don’t let anyone in the room. I’m going to see if Kian has managed to track down any information that will lead us to the traitor.”

I still want my answers as to how Elsie ended up on Earth, and I’ll get them, but now I also have other questions. Too many questions.

After what Elsie told me about her illnesses, I want to know how and why that happened to her. I want to know everything she’s been through and everything she’s felt. I want to understand all of it, not only because she’s my mate and it’s natural that I want to live every beat of her life as if it were my own, but also because I want to prevent it from ever happening again.

Yet for now, I follow my father into the hallway, accepting that getting my answers will have to wait.

“First the poison and then an attack,” the king says, walking briskly down the hallway and taking the stairs that lead to the inner court.

I easily keep up with his quick, urgent stride. “Do you think they’re related?”

“I doubt it.” His expression darkens. “But I won’t eliminate the possibility, not yet.”

“What a treacherous place Lona has become,” I say with loathing.

“No more treacherous than it’s always been,” he replies. “The only thing that changes are the enemies.”

We exit on the inner courtyard level where Kian as well as my uncles and aunts are gathered. They’re sitting on stone benches arranged in a circle in the middle of the lush garden. Blue bell flower creepers twist around the trunks of old yellow bark trees, their sweet, subtle perfume faint in the air.

My father stops a distance away from the others and nods at my shoulder. “How’s your mobility?”

“Fine.” I swing my arm to loosen the muscles. “It was only a flesh wound.”

“The Phaelix had a good shot at chopping off your head.” His eyes narrow with calculation. “That has never happened before.”

“He crept up on me.”

He watches me with a perceptive gaze. “You were distracted.”

By my mate. As always, the unsaid rings much louder than what’s been said.

I gnash my teeth. “I felt him the minute he moved. Him ending up in a puddle on the floor is proof of that.”

“You were lucky.”

I take a wide stance. “What are you saying, Father?”

“You’ve never been wounded before.”

“There’s always a first time.”

“Yes,” he drawls. “And every time teaches us a lesson. I think it’s safe to assume the presence of your mate diminished your vigilance in the attack.”

“On the contrary, it heightened it.”

“But it changed your priorities.”

I don’t reply because that may be true. Every one of my senses was tuned into the fight. I smelled that filthy Phaelix just as strongly as I felt him when he jumped through the air. But with Elsie there, I could only think about getting her to safety. The notion of anything happening to her made me volatile, triggering a protectiveness unrivaled by any other battle-hardened instinct.

As if to prove the point, a tremor shakes the floor at my recollection of that dangerous situation.

My father glances at the gathering of royals, who all have their eyes trained on us, and says in a lowered voice, “Don’t let word of it get out. There’s no point in broadcasting a weakness. Just be careful with your mate. Next time, lock her up in a safe place so she can’t distract you in a fight.”

I curl my fingers into a fist. “It’s not Elsie’s fault.”

“In a way, it is,” he declares with a truthful solemness I rarely see on his face. “If you’re not careful, she’ll be your downfall.”

“Don’t start with that too,” I bite out.

“I’m only telling the truth as a man who can speak with experience.”

I take a moment to digest that. My father has lived almost a century of moon cycles with his mate, enough to have learned the advantages as well as the pitfalls of that union. He’s had the benefit of time to master the art of successfully navigating said pitfalls. For Elsie and me, it’s only just starting. Because she was stolen from me and condemned to a cruel fate.

“Elsie almost died on Earth.” My words are measured. “The person who did that to her—to us— will pay.”

My father watches me with an unfaltering gaze. “The issue at hand is the immediate threat. Your mate is clouding your thinking. Our duty is to protect our people.”

My smile is cold. “Our duty is always first to our mates. That’s the rule of our kind. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t protect Mother with your life.”

The smile he offers in return is challenging. “I’ll protect both your mother and our people.”

“But you’ll protect her first. Isn’t that what you’re trying to tell me?”

He doesn’t answer, but he knows what I mean. He knows I believe the queen sent my mate to Earth. My own mother. Who else was powerful enough at that time to create a portal that could bridge the parallel worlds? Yes, that’s what he’s thinking too. I can see it in his eyes. He can’t hide it from me.

It’s also true that, since then, somebody has been very busy practicing the art of creating portals. How else would the humans have ended up here? Which brings me to a matter I wanted to discuss once I’d claimed and secured my mate. As it looks now, the claiming isn’t going to be easy or quick, seeing how hard-headed Elsie is.

Keeping my voice down, I say, “There was a barge with human slaves on it when I rescued Elsie from the Phaelix.”

My father grows still. “The rumors are true then.”

“I’m afraid so.”

He exhales, suddenly looking older than his age. “So someone is bringing humans in from Earth. That makes for a lot of puzzles to solve—the poison, the traitor amongst us, and now the irrefutable proof that someone other than your mother can create portals to Earth.”

“Correct,” I say grimly.

By implication, it’s an Alit, one of our own. We’re the only race that possesses powers. The royals have the strongest powers, and I don’t know any royals as skilled as my mother in creating portals—not in any of the five kingdoms. But there must be someone.

The question is, who?

My father drops his head, hiding his face from the people watching us with scrutinizing attention, and rubs his brow. “Keep this to yourself for now. We don’t need a national pandemonium. Once we’ve solved our own problems on the inside, we’ll return to the portal mystery.”

He leaves me with that order and heads over to the group who waits in pregnant silence.

“Lorak,” my uncle Incus—Suno’s father—exclaims. “What in Zerra’s name? Who dared to let the Phaelix in?”

My father turns to Kian, who gives an imperceptible shake of his head. He hasn’t been able to find the guilty party, which may mean the culprit isn’t inside the palace walls.

Only, everyone is accounted for. Everyone who lives in the palace has been screened by Kian. It had to have been someone on our side. Someone opened that archway from the inside. Then why isn’t Kian picking up anything? It doesn’t make sense.

Frustration mounts inside me.

My aunts shift to the far ends of their benches when I enter their circle. My uncles clear their throats.

Yes, they’re still petrified of me, even more so now.

Giving them a sardonic grin that makes them cower, I sit down.

My father listens to everyone’s complaints about the rising unrest in the kingdom. The people feel unsafe. The villagers don’t want to make the journey to the borders to trade their grain and other harvested crops for precious opals and metals from the mines in the south. It’s grown too dangerous. Too frequently, they’re intercepted by Phaelix who steal their goods. It’s impossible to go unarmed. We need to reestablish order.

Vitai arrives while the griping is in session. We move to the border of the courtyard where we can have a private conversation. I tell him about Elsie’s sicknesses, everything she suffered on Earth. When I’m done, he looks at me curiously.

“Well?” I say, impatient. “Do you have any theories?”

He scratches his jaw. “I’ll have to think about it.”

“What about now?” My heart goes into a gallop with the speed of a rabid dragon on the loose. “She’s not dying, is she?”

He replies calmly, “If she were, you’d know.”

Yes, I’d feel it.

I probe the connection carefully, already feeling the sharp sting of her resistant withdrawal at my unwelcome intrusion. As before, there’s only vitality.

Vitai pats my back sympathetically. “I’ll do some research and see what I can come up with.”

I clench my jaw. “We need to speak to Mother.”

Vitai knows why. If she sent Elsie to Earth, she may be the only one who knows why Elsie’s body ended up malfunctioning so badly. The Alit are notoriously healthy and strong. We don’t suffer from diseases. And Elsie is an Alit. Of that, there’s no doubt.

Healthy or sick, she’s my mate. She will be until the end of time, and nothing can change that. The knowledge is simultaneously soothing and frightening. To lose her a second time would kill me. She’s the only cure against the lethal numbness that was slowly swallowing me whole. Now that she’s here, I can be who I was born to be—a ruler. And when my father passes on the title, a king.

The fruitless discussion between the royals takes another hour to dwindle down to murmured complaints. Every person has said what they wanted to and repeated it to their hearts’ content, until they’ve worn it out like a threadbare rug. They carry on expressing their fears and injustices, not looking for solutions but for a soundboard for their grievances. What matters is action.

At long last, it’s agreed that we’ll send the Phaelix a message. No more plundering. No more stealing. No more harassing. No more attacking.

My father shares a private look with me.

No more slave trading either. They will put an end to bringing in humans, however they’re doing so.

Negotiators will deliver our ultimatums, everything but the embargo on the slaves. That part will be my responsibility. The situation is far too sensitive to let it leak out. Contact between Zerra and Earth is not only forbidden but also punishable. I understand my father’s unspoken message only too well. I’m to stop the slave trade at all costs, which means finding the person or persons responsible for creating the portals and executing those who won’t be swayed to give up their lucrative talents.

When the drinks that normally mark the end of a meeting are served, I excuse myself at last. I’m not tired, but I’m weary. The friction with Elsie is weighing on me.

Back in my quarters, Elsie sits in a chair facing the window, her elbow on her knee and her chin resting in her hand, staring unhappily—no, longingly—at the blue sky beyond.

She jumps when I touch her shoulder. This time, she genuinely didn’t hear me enter.

“Are you hungry?” I ask by way of a peace offering.

It seems she doesn’t like me or what I have to offer much, but food is the one thing I can give without getting it wrong.

“No.” She shakes her head without moving her gaze away from the sky. “I ate a lot at breakfast. I’m not hungry.”

I bend down to peer through the window. “What are you searching for out there with such utter concentration?”

“I’m trying to spot a dinosaur again,” she replies in a listless tone.

“A dinosaur? What’s that?”

She sighs. “A dragon.”

I think I get it. “Are you bored?”

“Terribly,” she says, perking up a little as she faces me. “With the very few exceptions when you took me out of my cage, you’ve been keeping me locked up in here since you brought me to this palace.”

“It’s for your safety,” I say in my most reasonable tone.

She scoffs and looks out the window again.

I pull up a chair and sit down where I have a clear view of her lovely face. “You could engage in plenty of pleasant activities to keep you occupied.”

“Such as?” she asks in a monotonous tone.

“Painting and tapestry. You could play games.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’d rather die of boredom, thank you very much.”

“Mastering the art of leisure is as important as perfecting the art of war.”

“Speak for yourself. And I don’t do leisure, which is just a synonym for boredom.”

“All right.” I choose my words carefully, asking good-naturedly, “Have you never been bored before?”

“Ha.” She turns her face back to me. “Not even for a second.”

“No?” Intrigued, I smile. “What kept you so busy?”

“For starters, trying not to die.” Shrugging, she continues, “I’ve always had a full life. Mom and Dad tried to make up for all the things I missed out on while I was in the hospital by taking me on trips and arranging enough fun activities to crowd every minute of my agenda.” She shrugs again. “They meant well.”

“Tell me about them, your parents.”

Her face lights up. “I couldn’t ask for a better mom or dad. Like all parents, they can be a bit overbearing, but that’s understandable.”

“They’re not your biological parents,” I state carefully.

Who knows what they told her? Maybe she doesn’t know that. In that case, it will be even harder for her to come to terms with the truth.

“Like I told Gaia, that doesn’t mean anything.”

So she does know. Her parents didn’t keep that information from her. “How did you end up with them?”

She looks away. “They adopted me.” Shading her face with one hand, she points with the other at the window. “What’s that point in the distance? Could that be a dragon?”

I see through her attempt to change the subject. She doesn’t want to draw attention to the facts that so clearly argue in favor of her being an Alit, but she won’t throw me off track so easily. “What do you know about the circumstances surrounding your adoption?”

She turns her face back to me, watching me with a wary light in her turquoise eyes. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I’m interested,” I admit. “I’d really like to know.”

She drops her hands in her lap and sighs. “Someone found an abandoned baby in a park. That baby was me. I was brought to a hospital and entered the foster care system, where I was swiftly put up for adoption. My parents couldn’t have children, so there you have it.”

Abandoned in a park .

I want to draw blood. To kill someone. Suppressing the explosive rage, I keep my voice level. “Did anyone try to locate your biological parents?”

“Of course. The authorities put out notices and checked hospital records for deliveries that had taken place during my estimated birth year.”

I’m trying hard to follow, the concepts she’s mentioning being strange to me.

“However—” She cuts herself off, clearly not wanting to say that they always came up empty-handed because it’s another point in favor of the fact she’s still denying.

“I did wonder about that often,” she finally admits. “But I figured it must’ve been a home birth or some such. Either way, if my biological parents didn’t want me, I didn’t want to find them.” She continues with a wry laugh, “Not that I had the energy to search for them.”

Everything she’s saying is proving me right and her wrong about her true identity. Her biological parents didn’t abandon her. She was stolen from them. Yet that fact doesn’t help to soothe her. On the contrary, talking about it upsets her.

Wanting to calm her, I point out the positive parts of the history she shared with me. “From what you told me, your adoptive parents were good to you. They did everything in their power to make you happy.”

Her expression brightens a little. “That’s true.”

Since talking about her origins upsets her, I change the subject. “When your parents didn’t keep you busy, what did you do with your time?”

She sits up straighter. “There were my studies.”

I’m intrigued. “Studies?”

“I’m in college.”

That tells me nothing. I know a little about Earth’s history, thanks to my mother’s lessons. Everything else, including the facets of modern-day life on that planet, is never discussed.

Still, I try to follow along. “And you do your studies in this college?”

“I take all kinds of classes, like Greek Lit and anthropology .”

She’s speaking her language instead of mine.

At my confused frown, she explains, “You know, to learn about ancient civilizations.”

That’s a bit clearer. “For what purpose?”

“It’s always been my dream to become an archeologist or a paleontologist.” Her smile is meant to be nonchalant, but it doesn’t fool me. “Oh, don’t get me wrong. I had no illusions about actually working in the field. I knew that would be impossible with all my health problems, but I wanted to get my degree at least.”

I don’t know what degree she’s talking about, but I’m guessing it’s important. And not easy to obtain. “What does an archeologist do?”

“They dig up the remains of bygone eras.”

Odd. “For what reason?”

“To have an idea of how life was back then.”

“Why?”

She makes an impatient sound. “Because it’s interesting. Exciting. Because it teaches us how the world used to be, that it’s so much older and bigger than just our self-centered little selves.”

“I see.” I’m charmed. My smile stretches. “What’s your favorite Earth era?”

“Definitely the dinosaur periods,” she says with enthusiasm. “Which is why I was hoping you could show me more, um, dragons.”

“The dragons are dangerous. Going anywhere near them is strictly off-limits.” I keep my tone amiable but make sure there’s no doubt about how serious I am. “If I catch you anywhere near one, I’ll lock you in here indefinitely.”

Like a curtain falling, her eyes lose their spark and become shuttered.

A sudden rush of tenderness makes my question coaxing. “What’s the matter?”

She looks away. “Here, I’m nothing but a prisoner.”

I lean forward and take her hand. “No, Elsie. You’re not my prisoner. You’re not locked up in a cell in the dungeons. If you’re in my quarters, it’s because, one, I want to ensure your safety, and two, you’re my mate.”

She looks back at me, her eyes painfully bright. “Back home, I had dreams and a life. Yes, it might have been a short and mostly painful life, at least physically, but…” She bites her lip, unwilling to continue.

I stroke her knuckles with my thumb, enjoying the softness of her skin and the delicate bones of her tiny hand. Coaxing again. Willing her to continue, to open up to me like she did a heartbeat ago. “But what, my sweet?”

“But now that I’m no longer dying—which, by the way, I’m still trying to figure out—why can’t you send me back to Earth?”

I stiffen. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes! More than anything. You have no idea how much I miss my parents. Oh, you’d make me so happy if you sent me back.”

The sound of that is an acrid poison to swallow. Elsie doesn’t feel the pull like I do. Our bond is nothing to her. Her happiness lies not in our connection but in our separation. Indeed, our bond is so insignificant to her she’d rather run away from it, back to the life of horrors and pain she led.

It’s like a slap in the face. To be rejected by one’s own mate is the worst humiliation a man can suffer.

The sweet softness she instilled in me mere moments ago grows hard and bitter. At the prospect of losing her, a tide of possessiveness surges inside me. It turns me into a monster, a beast that will slay anything standing between him and his mate.

The polished reflection stone explodes, twinkling stars of silver flying through the air.

Elsie jerks and gasps, but she sits as still as a good little house pet, no longer tempting the beast.

I let her hand go and pull mine away, feeling the frosty loss of that contact all the way to the solid wall coating my heart. My voice reflects that cold hardness, the steely resolve and sharp rejection that beats in my chest. “Your place is here, Elsie. This is where you’ll stay. You’ve experienced the bond between us every time our clothes have come off. Lie to me about it if you’re such a coward, but at least be woman enough to admit it to yourself.” I stand, towering over her, over my mate who doesn’t want me. “We’ve said our vows. I drank to the toast. You will drink too. Only one thing remains, and that’s my possession of your body. I’ll give you until the end of this moon cycle to get used to the idea.” My hands curl involuntarily into fists. “But know this…When the moon is full, I will take you as my mate, with or without your consent.”

She stares up at me with shock, her cheeks pale and her pink lips parted.

Unable to stand the clear message of revulsion that’s written all over her face, I leave her with that promise.

In ten and four nights, I’ll pin her beneath me, and before I’m done with her, she’ll beg on her knees for me to fuck her like an animal in heat.