Page 9

Despite my numerous protests, I’m massaged with nice-smelling oils and lathered with creams. Gaia shows me a primitive kind of toilet in the corner of the room with the pool, which she calls the cleansing room. The toilet is basically just a hole in a stone seat, but she explains that it magically empties itself once it’s been used. When I ask her how that works, she tells me it’s due to the properties of the stones.

The vague explanation only makes me more curious. Do the stones absorb the waste? Are there some microorganisms living in that hole that feed on the waste and thus dissolve it? When I ask, Gaia doesn’t seem to know. Instead, she shows me how to clean up afterward using a small water fountain that seems to be perpetually running inside another stone seat—a bidet of sorts that they apparently use in lieu of toilet paper.

After the tour, she gives me privacy. Once I’ve taken care of my needs, I wash my hands in a bowl filled with water from a jug. The soap is a gel capsule that dissolves on my palm and smells like heaven. The minute I’ve dried my hands on a cloth from a stack on the shelf, two women enter with brushes and start to scrub everything clean. Then the pampering continues.

With so many women buzzing around me, I’m dressed in a long, flowing gown with my hair and make-up done in no time at all.

Gaia positions me in front of the mirror.

“You look beautiful,” she exclaims in a breathless whisper, clasping her hands together.

The woman staring back at me in the shadowy reflection of the mirror is a far cry from the old me back on Earth. The permanent dark circles around my eyes are gone. My skin has a healthy glow, and my short hair shines with a brilliance that accentuates the natural platinum highlights in my strawberry-blond strands. Even my eyes, which I’ve always considered to be a dull blue-green, sparkle with a new luminosity.

It’s so bizarre. I don’t understand why I look so healthy and why my heart is beating so strongly. Did Vitai heal all my autoimmune issues? But no. Even back in the jungle with the Phaelix, I looked and felt different.

Not sick.

Not weak.

Not dying for once in my life.

What is this place? How do these people have these powers?

And why the fuck did they decide I’m Aruan’s mate?

“What do you think?” Gaia asks, sounding pleased with herself.

I push aside my speculations for now and refocus on my appearance. The dress is made of a soft material with a pearly glimmer. It fastens at my nape and drapes with soft folds over my breasts and hips before flaring out from my thighs. The hem stops just above my ankles. The back is open, not allowing for any sort of bra—if they even wear them here. Fortunately, with my small breasts, I don’t need one. The skirt is embroidered with shiny white stones, which may or may not be diamonds. Begrudgingly, I have to admit that the gown is gorgeous. I’ve never looked prettier.

“Shoes,” Gaia announces with a clap of her hands.

One of the women rushes forward with a pair of satiny slippers. The crystal beads decorating them match the stones on the dress. She kneels in front of me while another woman takes my arm to steady me and a third carefully lifts my skirt.

I shove my feet into the flat-heeled, pointy shoes. To my surprise, they’re very comfortable, not pinching my toes as I expected.

Gaia takes a small flacon from the dresser and sprays a fine mist of perfume over my hair. It smells powdery soft, almost like roses, with something exotic like ylang-ylang in the mix.

“It’s a very precious and rare perfume made from the petals of dragon flower blossoms,” Gaia says as she points the atomizer at my barely-there cleavage. “They only bloom once a century under a full moon.”

Puff.

“A drop is worth a hundred opal stones.”

Puff, puff.

She winks before giving my neck the same treatment. “Aruan loves the smell.”

I suppress a protest. Objecting to the dollying-up isn’t going to help. I argued until my throat was hoarse, and it got me nowhere.

To them, it may seem as if I’ve accepted my fate, which is to take vows I don’t mean and consummate some bizarre mating.

Ha.

That’s not going to happen.

I’m just biding my time. My docility is all for show. Sooner rather than later, an opportunity to escape will present itself. If I’m going to a banquet, they have to take me out of this room. I’ll grab my chance then. I have no idea where I’m going to go in this strange place, but I’ll escape first and figure it out later.

Someone around here has to know how to open a portal back to Earth, right?

The flurry of activity comes to an abrupt halt. The women freeze.

I lift my head to see what’s going on, and then an uninvited and very unwelcome shiver runs through me.

Aruan stands in the doorway, his large frame blocking out the light that reflects from the walls in the hallway. With all those muscles packed onto his body, he looks imposing and lethal. He’s changed into a black jacket with silver and red embroidery around the collar and cuffs. Knee-high boots polished to a shine are fitted over his pants. His long dark hair is tied back, exposing his angular face and drawing attention to the masculine lines of his square jaw, aristocratic nose, and broad forehead. There’s no arguing that he’s strikingly handsome. He stands there like a king, rendering people silent with his mere presence.

Our gazes lock in the reflection of the mirror. His piercing stare is too intense for my liking.

My heartbeat picks up, and heat rushes through my veins. It’s like stepping from a snowy winter’s day into a cozy sauna. I can’t control it.

Gaia says something, but her words are white noise in my ears. I’m vaguely aware of the guards and women leaving the room. The air is trapped in my lungs as Aruan and I continue our stare off, yet it’s impossible to look away from his foreboding gaze.

Gaia slips a tiara with sparkling stones into my hair. “Everything will be all right. You’ll see.” She mouths, “Good luck,” and then she’s gone.

Silence stretches as Aruan and I are locked in an invisible vise. What I read in his eyes frightens me. They’re filled with the carnal hunger of a starving predator—and the determination to satiate that hunger.

It’s more than a little unsettling that I can read his intentions so well. Even more concerning are the responding zaps of awareness that sizzle under my skin, which I do my best to ignore. Although it’s difficult to do so when, under the dress, my naked lady parts are wet, and my nipples are so hard they poke through the thin fabric. It really doesn’t help that underwear was apparently never invented here.

A knowing smile plucks at Aruan’s lips as he studies me. I swear he knows exactly what’s going through my mind. He can’t be blind to the effect he has on me. We have a weird capacity to communicate without words.

Finally, he breaks the spell by stepping deeper into the room. The archway closes behind him.

I gulp.

I don’t like being locked in here with him alone.

My breathing grows shallow. He’s like a huge, all-consuming vacuum that sucks up all the oxygen in the room.

He advances slowly and stops so close to me that the buttons of his jacket sweep my lower back. I resist the urge to step away. I hate being a coward.

“You look beautiful, Elsie,” he says in a voice so deep that goosebumps ripple over my skin.

However light the contact, it’s disturbing as hell.

Forget about acting brave and saving face. I turn around, creating a measure of distance between us, and crane my neck to look up at him. “Gaia said something about vows. Please tell me it’s a joke.”

“Alas,” he says with a sharp, disapproving smile. “Saying one’s vows is never a joke.”

“What does that even mean?” The proverbial noose around my neck tightens. “Is it like marriage or something?”

“Marriage?” He tilts his head, his eyes narrowing with perceptive curiosity. “I’m not familiar with that custom.”

“It’s when two people decide to live together and have a family. They give each other rings and promise to be faithful. They sign a contract that’s legally binding. Often, things go wrong, and then they divorce.” When he frowns, I elaborate, “They leave each other. In fact, it happens to one out of two couples, and it can get really messy. If that’s what you’re planning with this whole saying-our-vows-thing, I can assure you that we’ll end up as the one-out-of-two statistic. Surely, that’s not what you want.” I add uncertainly, “Right?”

He watches me solemnly. “On Zerra, each person has one mate only. When we mate, it’s for life.”

“For life?” I shriek. “Like penguins and seahorses?”

“I don’t know your seahorses and penguins, but here, even our dragons mate for life.”

Okay, I admit a world with failproof relationships sounds kind of amazing, but not if the relationship is unwanted or forced. He can’t mean that’s what he wants. For life. With me. Can he?

He only continues to stare at me with an unfaltering silver gaze.

Shit.

He does mean it.

I break out in a cold sweat. Through dry lips, I ask, “Are you for real?”

“Claiming one’s mate is an occasion of great joy. Without a mate, a person is incomplete.”

If that’s what he believes, I’m truly fucked.

Literally. Maybe.

“What does this whole consummation ritual entail?” I ask with my heart beating in my throat.

The color of his eyes darkens to quicksilver. I swear he could melt metal with that flaming-hot stare.

“We’ll bond physically,” he announces in an even tone.

“We have to sleep together?” I croak out.

“Eventually, yes.” No longer limiting his exploration to my face, he takes full advantage of sizing up my body. “After we’ve fucked.”

Oh, crap.

I sway a little, suddenly dizzy.

I think I may swoon—in a bad way.

Double crap.

In a good way too.

The swooning has a distinct note of anticipation.

I’ve always wanted to know what sex was like, but a roll between the sheets wasn’t in the cards for me. My medical conditions required every bit of my energy just to survive. I hardly had an appetite for food, let alone for sexcapades.

In my wildest fantasies, I dreamed about doing it backstage with the bad boy drummer of a rock band. He had a floppy fringe that fell over blue, tormented eyes and a self-assured smile with a slight hint of a smirk that said he could kiss— really kiss—and he knew it.

Losing my V-card to a dangerous man with superpowers who claims to be my mate has never entered my sex fantasies.

Now that is scary.

And annoyingly hot.

But no.

Getting jumped against a wall in the smoky shadows of a stage with no strings attached is one thing. Being bound to a man who demands vows on the first date is a whole different ballgame.

“And then?” I ask in my best bartering voice. “If I agree to fuck you, will you let me go?”

Ferocious anger flashes across his features. It doesn’t replace the scorching hunger of earlier but rather adds to it, making a dangerous cocktail of simmering emotions.

With a gruff edge to his voice, he delivers the verdict. “Never.”

Oookay. See? That’s what I was worried about.

I retreat, forgetting about the mirror behind me until my back collides with the smooth, cool surface. “I’m flattered that you believe that’s what you want, but that’s not what I want.”

“What we want is inconsequential. The physical call of a mate’s bond is impossible to resist.”

“Then it’s lucky for me that we’re not mates.”

“The longer we wait, the harder it’ll be on both of us.”

“I don’t even know how I got here or what I’m doing here,” I say in exasperation. “One minute, I saw a circle of lights, and the next, I was in a jungle with the lizard dudes—I mean, the Phaelix.”

At the mention of the Phaelix, Aruan’s eyes gleam with undisguised violence. “They brought you here via a portal and then tried to hurt you. They got what they deserved.”

Being melted alive? Yeah, okay. I guess empathy and remorse aren’t high on my so-called mate’s list of traits. Though I don’t exactly disagree with him after what those monsters almost did to me by the river.

“Why did they bring me here?” I ask, shaking off the awful memory. “Was it really to sell me as a slave?”

It seems so primitive and unnecessary for beings that can open portals between worlds. Then again, the Phaelix seem to live in the jungle amid giant caterpillars, so they don’t come across as all that advanced. Neither do my current humanoid captors, come to think of it. I’m getting distinct Middle Ages vibes here… crazy powers excluded.

The brutality in Aruan’s gaze grows to epic proportions. “Probably. There’ve been rumors of Earth slaves among the Phaelix.”

How lovely. “The people on the barge… What’s going to happen to them?”

“I told them they were free to go.”

“Go where? If they’re from Earth…” I trail off, staring at him expectantly.

Maybe there’s a station or something where a portal to Earth is always open. Or where someone is available to open one.

If so, that’s where I’m hoofing it as soon as I get out of here.

He shrugs, like he doesn’t know or care.

I grit my teeth. “Could you have sent them back?” Does he have the technology?

He shakes his head. “Not just anyone can create a portal to Earth. It requires a particular, very strong power.”

A power, not a technology then. “And that’s not your power,” I say, making a calculated guess.

“No,” he says, looking grim for some reason.

“Do you know someone with that power?” I persist. “So those people can be sent back to Earth?”

And so I can go with them, far away from all this craziness.

He shrugs again, infuriatingly. “Once we’re mated, we can talk more. Now, let’s go.” He takes my hand. “We have a banquet to attend.”

A banquet where we’ll be tied together for life? No, thanks. Hanging back, I say, “Gaia said my biological parents were from a different kingdom in Zerra. You have to admit it sounds farfetched. There’s no way I’m an Alit and your mate. I mean?—”

“Gaia is right,” he says without missing a beat. “I was told you died in an accident.” His expression darkens. He doesn’t even try to hide the savage anger that burns in his gaze. “As it turns out, someone sent you to Earth when you were just a baby, so you’re indeed an Alit and my mate. It’s all very logical, my sweet.” His voice drops an octave. “When I have proof of who sent you there, the guilty party will pay.”

Uh-huh. I picture the Phaelix melting away and suppress a shudder. Also, his so-called logic has zero evidence behind it. Either way… “Let’s say what you say is true and I was sent to Earth as a baby. We still don’t know each other. This isn’t my world. Don’t you see? I don’t belong here.”

“Your place is at my side, Laliss,” he says in a measured tone, gripping my hand in a firm hold. “And in my bed.”

I yank my hand from his. “You’re not listening to me. I’m Elsie, not Laliss, and I’m not sleeping with you, tonight or ever.”

The line of his jaw hardens. “It’s going to happen. It’s inevitable.”

“Don’t you get it?” I glare at him. “I’m sure you’re used to having women at your feet with a flick of your fingers, but I don’t want you .”

As I speak, a deep unease twists inside me, just like when I lie to deceive my parents into thinking that I’m fine.

An unfriendly smile curves his lips. “Careful. My patience has limits, even with my mate.” Something that seems a lot like retribution gleams with a dark promise in his eyes. “When the time comes, your body will overrule your mind. You will succumb to my advances whether you want to or not.” His look is calculated. “But don’t worry, my sweet, I’ll make sure you enjoy every moment.”

I feel like hitting him over the head with one of the heavy boxes the women left behind. My dark fantasy hasn’t reached its conclusion yet—where he lies unconscious on the floor—before he encircles my arm with his strong fingers and gently but firmly pulls me toward the exit.

“Come,” he says. “Our guests are already gathered in the banquet hall, and I’ve waited a very long time for this.”

I stumble next to him, struggling to keep up with his long strides as he guides me through a broad hallway and down a spiral staircase. At the bottom, we walk through a narrower hallway lit by those strange lights that seem to come from within the stones. The light flares up around us and dies down again as we advance, not only effectively lighting our way but also making it seem as if the walls are pulsing with an inner life.

At a double wooden door, we stop. Aruan pushes it open with one hand while grasping my arm securely in the other.

The thick doors swing outward to reveal a large, vaulted hall brimming with people. Long tables and benches run along the length of the room. There’s not an empty place at the tables. Women in long, gorgeous gowns and men in tunics are squeezed in so tightly that their elbows are touching.

The chatter dies down. All eyes turn toward us.

In the silence that follows, Aruan leads me into the room. The men who guarded me in his quarters are stationed on either side of the steps leading down into the hall. A few more filter in behind us while four men line up in front us. We’re surrounded by guards on all sides. Aruan must be a prominent figure if he takes security this seriously.

I swallow hard as he ushers me down the stairs. The people in the hall follow our every move with their gazes.

At the end of the hall, a table set with silver and crystalware stands on a raised platform.

The man at the head of the table watches us with hawk-like scrutiny as we make our way down the aisle that separates the crammed benches.

Like Kian, Vitai, and Gaia, he has hair the color of molasses and eyes like the silver water of a frosty lake.

The resemblance between him and Aruan is uncanny, but his face is rougher and more angular.

The harsh lines of his features are carved deeply on his face.

His expression is mostly neutral but not enough to hide the hint of hostility shining through the stern intensity of the stare he directs at me.

His black coat is embroidered in red and silver like Aruan’s.

Judging by the silver wreath in the shape of a dragon with polished black stones for eyes that rests like a crown on his head, he’s the leader of this clan.

On the other end of the table sits a beautiful woman with hair so black it shines blue in the light of the myriad stones glowing on the tables.

Her eyes are a light shade of gray, a striking contrast to her dark hair.

Unlike the rest of the party at the table, who all sport deep golden skin tones, hers is pale.

She wears a white dress with lace cuffs.

The crown on her head is almost an exact replica of the man’s, except that hers is more delicate.

Gaia, Kian, and Vitai are seated between them. They’re twisted in their seats, watching our slow march across the hall. Two men, one blond and the other with mousy brown hair, sit opposite them.

If Vitai is a kind of a healer, maybe he knows what was done to my body that makes me no longer feel like I’m dying. I’ll ask him as soon as I get a chance.

A murmur breaks out in the crowd. Whispers run like a spark catching fire through the people. Their words don’t reach my ears, but shock and anguish are clear in the low hiss of voices.

Ignoring the attention, Aruan brings me to the platform and guides me up the steps. We round the table under the curious stares of the spectators and stop behind two empty chairs facing the masses. Like the chairs in his room, these are circular stones too, resembling hollow nests padded with soft, silver cushions.

“Praise to the King of Lona,” Aruan says. “Peace to the Queen of the Nation.”

The people at the long tables stomp their feet once, making me jump.

“Loyal royals and citizens of Lona,” Aruan continues, “I present to you…” Turning to me, he says with fierceness and pride burning in his eyes, “My mate.”

A roar rises from below.