Page 14 of Survivor (A Space Pearl’s Treat #2)

"The queen wanted our people feared," Vysar said with a sad sigh, tossing the root he held into the basket and digging for another.

"She knew I stood against her beliefs and had been slowly gaining support to have me removed from power.

" He sighed again, and his broad shoulders slumped slightly, the faint shift of his scales making the blue darker.

"My greatest regret is that she used the idea that Vraxxan, our son, was somehow less because he could not shift.

When Vreses proved excellent at forcing the shift, she wanted to make him heir instead.

I opposed it, of course. As king, I would never allow Vreses to rule, so she had me taken in the night.

Zarpazian law would not allow her to kill me and retain power, so she dumped me here. "

"What about Vraxxan? Wouldn't she have to get rid of him for Vreses to become king?

" From what Vraxxan told me, his life at the castle consisted of numerous tasks one would expect for an up-and-coming king.

Education not just in Zarpazian law but in Alliance law as well.

Training with the armies, learning not only to command them but to fight alongside them as a warrior king.

And inclusion in enough political meetings to make my skin crawl.

His entire life seemed to revolve about being groomed to be king. But his mother was a sneaky bitch.

"Our laws prevented her from outright harming him," Vysar said, gratitude rolling off him in waves. "But we are a warrior people. When it became time for Vraxxan to ascend the throne, she would have had Vreses challenge him for the crown."

"And Vreses could shift," I added, shuddering at the icy finger traveling along my spine.

"Yes." The word was flat and devoid of emotion. Yet his entire demeanor radiated the fury of a father who witnessed his son being wronged. His eyes narrowed on the plant in his hand, and his fingers tightened, much like they'd like to tighten around the queen's throat, I imagined.

"You must be proud of Vraxxan. He will make a great king.

" I observed the subtle shift in Vysar's demeanor, his shoulders easing from their tense posture, indicating that my words had struck a chord.

The relief, however, was fleeting. A deep, rumbling growl of frustration shattered the momentary calm.

"Yes, he would indeed, but the queen will never allow it," Vysar replied, his voice heavy with regret. "And now, I fear, she has the perfect excuse to eliminate him once and for all." His eyes, deeply blue and flickering with concern, met mine.

"You mean she would kill him for helping me?" I gulped, feeling like the hot, humid jungle air had just suffered an arctic blast.

Vysar sighed, rising to his feet, the root between his fingers smushed to a pulp.

"On Zarpazia, disobeying the queen's word is high treason, punishable by death.

" Vysar tossed the squashed root in the basket where it landed atop the others with a loud splat.

"By rescuing you, even though he did the right thing.

..." Vysar was quick to add, "it allows the possibility for an accusation of treason. "

I blanched, both stunned and horrified by his words.

"You mean by rescuing me, Vraxxan gave the queen an excuse to kill him?

" My voice trembled with disbelief. The slick, purple leaves I clutched slipped from my grasp, fluttering silently to the ground.

A tumult of emotions surged within me—horror, fury, and a fierce determination.

I didn't know how I would stop it, but I vowed, with every fiber of my being, that I would never let the queen harm Vraxxan because of me. Never.

"Yes." Vysar's gaze softened on me as though he suspected my inner turmoil.

"Did he know?" Perhaps Vraxxan was oblivious to the full weight of his actions.

The gravity of the situation might have eluded him.

Maybe he didn't truly believe his mother would execute him simply for protecting me.

Yet, based on everything he'd said about her.

.. he knew her cruelty, her bloodthirstiness, and her hatred of what she perceived as his failings. He had to know how she would react.

"I suspect my son is well-schooled in Zarpazian law," Vysar said softly, echoing my sentiments.

"Why would he do that?" I asked stubbornly. He'd already gotten injured by Seibring for helping me. I couldn't stand anything else happening to him.

Understanding that Vraxxan essentially signed his own death warrant by rescuing me... by continuing to protect me stirred an unusual sensation in my belly. It wasn't fear that gripped me but rather a comforting warmth. A tender and enveloping feeling that made my insides feel soft and squishy.

"I believe you know," Vysar said softly, a faint smile curling his lips.

Did I?

I knew what I hoped, the wishful thoughts swirling in my mind like a whirlwind, just out of reach.

Yet, why else would he stay by my side? He could have easily left me here with his father, returning to mend the rift with his mother and save his own life.

Yet, he chose me, prioritizing my safety over his own.

And I chose him too. Against his mother.

Against the belief that he was anything less because of the stupid color of his scales.

Against anyone who would try and hurt him.

The complexity of my feelings was something I couldn't quite untangle, yet there was one certainty—I chose him, whatever that entailed.

"I need to talk to Vraxxan." I jumped to my feet, determined.

"He is not back from the hunt," Vysar settled beside a clump of alien sweet potatoes, his hands absently wrapping around the dark purple stalks.

I felt a surge of frustration rising within me, a desperate urge to argue that it didn't matter.

That seeing Vraxxan now was of the utmost importance.

But then, reason washed over me like a cold wave.

Neither Vysar nor I had any clue which route Vraxxan chose to take.

We could enlist the Peecha's assistance to track his whereabouts, but doing so might interfere with his hunt.

I managed to dampen the urgency, but the overwhelming need to see him churned inside me like a wildfire, its flames licking at my insides, intense and relentless.

"Settle qizim ," Vysar said softly, reaching up to wrap his hand around my wrist and pull me down beside him, indicating the wealth of alien sweet potatoes that lay buried at our feet. He tapped his ear with a grin. "I will know of his approach."

Qizim? The word didn't translate, but I had no room for curiosity in my brain. Only the need to talk to Vraxxan.

"You'll tell me when you hear him returning?" I fixed Vysar with a gaze that dared him to refuse.

"Of course." Vysar pulled the blade from the sheath at his waist. "Here, qizim,” he said, holding the flat blade out to me by the hilt. "This will help you uncover things that are buried."

I had the strangest feeling he wasn't talking about alien potatoes.