Jiran’s argument seemed too well thought out to be made up. He hadn’t known he was going to meet her. Sarai couldn’t imagine that he thought up an elaborate system designed to pretend her life was a lie, just on the off chance that he would pick up one of the Krakian guests while fetching his sister.
Sarai glanced at Deseer. “Would they really have hurt us?”
Deseer looked at her sadly. “Worse than you could possibly imagine.”
She didn’t know what to believe, but Sarai’s thoughts were shifting from flat disbelief to a mindset more open to possibilities.
Jiran handed her the pants she’d chosen and a top in a similar color—a bright pink. Excited to wear her new clothes, Sarai started stripping down. As she looked up, she was surprised to find Deseer and Jiran looking pointedly away from her.
“What’s wrong?” Sarai glanced down at herself. She knew she was beautiful—she wouldn’t have been the prize she was otherwise. “Is there something wrong with my body?”
Jiran turned his back to her, his cheeks reddening oddly, but Deseer looked into her eyes to answer.
“There’s nothing wrong,” she said. “It’s just that people don’t usually get dressed in front of each other unless they’re quite close. At least, that’s the custom on Zarata. It may be different on Earth.”
“I don’t know about Earth, but no one made a fuss about that on Krakia. It’s just a body, after all. No one gets shy looking at jewels or this currency you speak of, do they?”
“No, they don’t.” Deseer gave her a sad smile. “Bodies aren’t just objects like jewels or currency. Your body isn’t an object, and neither are you. It’s different.”
That seemed a strange way to think about it, but it was hardly any stranger than some of the other things Deseer and Jiran had told her.
Sarai finished getting changed, smoothing the fabric down. It was less scratchy than what she was used to wearing, which was nice. She hadn’t realized the inside would feel as good as the outside looked: soft, fluffy, and warm.
“You can turn around, Jiran. I’m dressed.”
Jiran didn’t turn around, and Deseer chuckled, shaking her head as she left the room.
“You should go to sleep, Sarai,” Jiran said, his voice rough. “We’ll be getting an early start tomorrow.”
Sarai looked sadly after Jiran as he marched out of the room without another word. She hoped she hadn’t offended him. Why wouldn’t he look at her?
She knew that the best way to calm Jiran’s temper would be to follow orders without question—at least, that was what she’d been taught. Jiran seemed to react differently from how she had expected, and she wasn’t sure how to act.
Now wasn’t the time to experiment, though. Sarai went straight to the bed that had been designated as hers, lay down, and went to sleep.
8
Jiran
Jiran watched Sarai from the open doorway connecting the two hotel rooms.
By the time Sarai’s breathing had become calm and even, his boner had almost gone down. Deseer was still giggling at him, and he did his best to ignore her. He hoped Sarai didn’t take it the wrong way. He had no intention of taking advantage of her, but he couldn’t help his body’s reactions.
Jiran knew he should get some sleep, but he found himself entranced by the soft rise and fall of Sarai’s chest. He should have thought to get her some proper nightclothes, but the pants and top looked comfortable enough.
“What are you going to do with her?” Deseer was also watching Sarai, though her gaze was worried rather than tender.
“That’s not for me to decide. It’s up to her. Until then, I’ll take care of her.”
Deseer shook her head. “You always did burden yourself with the problems of others,” she said. “No one else would have come after me when I was taken. It was a suicide mission.”
Jiran cocked an eyebrow at her. “Clearly not, as here we are. You’re my sister. Your problems are my problems.”
“That doesn’t apply to Sarai.”
Jiran looked at the sleeping form of the dark-haired human. “I couldn’t leave her there.”
“I understand, Jiran, I do. But that doesn’t leave us in a very good position. The galactic authorities will agree that my kidnapping was illegal, but Sarai’s? They’ve had her for her entire life. She’s more a citizen of Krakia than Earth. Worse, she’s not going to back us up. If a judge asks her where she wants to go, she’s going to request to be sent back to Krakia.”
Jiran’s hands clenched into fists. “What they did to her… I’d do anything to be able to go back and tear that entire planet apart. It’s almost worse than if they’d tortured her. Who knows if she’ll ever be able to throw off the brainwashing they subjected her to? It runs so deep…”
“She’s doing remarkably well, given that it’s only been a few days. If we can keep her away from Krakia, I think we’ll be able to show her how to live her own life,” Deseer said. “She’ll need help—I doubt she has any skills other than obeying orders, but she seems to learn fast. We may be able to convince her that going back isn’t something she wants to do in time for her to make her own case to the galactic authorities.”
That seemed overly optimistic to Jiran, but he supposed it was possible. Regardless of what the authorities decided, Jiran would never let her go back. She’d been so close to joining a Krakian harem—to being catapulted from her life of relative ease to a nightmare of rape and torture by men who loved nothing more than to bring pain and humiliation.
“I can see what you’re thinking,” Deseer warned, her tone hard. “Don’t go bringing Zarata into a war over this, brother.”
She was right, of course. As a high ranking noble, Jiran had the authority to start a war. It was something he’d already been tempted to do since getting to know Sarai—nothing would be so satisfying as to wipe every slave owner on Krakia out of existence.
But he couldn’t.
Such a war wouldn’t remain restricted to Krakia alone. Alliances would be called in. Oaths would be made. And once the fighting started, the vengeance feuds would follow.
No, Jiran couldn’t in good conscience do that. “I know. Don’t worry. If things don’t go our way legally, I’ll take Sarai away. We’ll go into hiding.”
“Jiran!” Deseer snapped, her eyes widening. “You’d be throwing your entire life away. Everyone you know, you’d have to leave behind, and contact would be scarce as long as you were on the run, which could be years. You barely know this girl.”
“It feels like I’ve known her forever,” Jiran murmured, still staring at Sarai. “I don’t know how to describe it. It’s like we were meant to be together.”
Deseer paused. “When was the last time you touched her?”
Jiran scratched his hands, ignoring the question. He knew what Deseer was thinking and he’d considered it too. He’d been avoiding touching Sarai recently for that very reason.
In case she was his true mate.
“Jiran?” Deseer asked, warning in her voice.
“I haven’t touched her recently,” Jiran answered truthfully.
Deseer looked at his hands. He knew there were no golden circles on them. He wasn’t mated. He also knew that all that could change the next time he touched Sarai.
For the moment, Deseer seemed placated though. She shook her head.
“You sound like a lovesick fool.”
Jiran’s lip twitched in a smirk. “And you sound like a grump who needs some sleep,” he shot back.
Deseer huffed at him but got into bed all the same. Jiran set an alarm and lay down on his own bed, facing Sarai. He wondered how they’d trained her to fall asleep on command on Krakia. He had to remember that she took casual comments as iron-clad orders. The last thing he wanted was to be her master.
No, he was starting to think he wanted to be something entirely different for her…
He fell asleep watching her, a smile on his face.
9
Braol
Braol had no idea why the fools had stopped before reaching their home planet, but it was a stroke of good luck for him. It would be a lot easier to apprehend his property on Fregin than on Zarata, where he would have to fight against the full power of the noble houses.
He’d asked about ten people so far, but no one had seen the girl. Braol had a holo picture of her that he was showing to various store owners in the market, and he was getting impatient. When Braol got impatient, heads tended to roll, but he knew that he needed to at least try to keep his temper here, away from his father’s protection.
“Have you seen this girl?” He wasn’t paying much attention, already looking for another merchant to ask, but the man’s response surprised him.
“The human girl? I saw her just yesterday! I don’t see many of my kind around here, so it was a nice taste of home. Though I got the impression she grew up away from Earth.”
Braol snapped toward the merchant. The male had his full attention now. Only now did Braol notice that the merchant was a human, just like Sarai.
“Where did she go?” he asked.
The merchant shrugged. “I don’t know. There are many hotels around here.”
Braol nodded, already scanning the area with his eyes. It didn’t matter. Now that Braol knew they were close, he would find them. The slave girl would be his. He would own her, and he would deal with the thieves—the hard way.
10
Sarai
Sarai woke to the sound of something smashing. Her eyes flew open, but she didn’t move. Jiran and Deseer leaped up from their beds and Jiran ran to her room, putting himself between her bed and the door. She peered around him and gasped.
In the shattered doorway of the hotel room, stood Braol. He was as large and intimidating as Sarai remembered, and his red face was contorted in anger. His eyes were stormy pits of darkness—and they were fixed right on her.
“Sarai.” His voice boomed in the silence that had fallen. “I am your rightful owner, and I have come to take you home, where you belong. Come.” He held out a hand.
Sarai knew that she should go to him. Everything she had ever been taught told Sarai that she had to obey, and obey at once.
For some reason, though, her legs didn’t want to move.
If she went with Braol, she would never see Jiran again. Jiran didn’t scare her like Braol did. He would protect her. She liked spending time with him. She had the feeling that the only time she’d be spending with Braol would be in his bed. With Jiran, she had been able to see the world. He had given her a gift, a possession of her own.
Before she could make a decision, Jiran unholstered a gun. “You won’t take her.”
This answer seemed to amuse Braol, and he beckoned. “Take me down, then, if you think you can.”
Jiran fired, but Braol moved so fast that he blurred in Sarai’s vision. Before she knew what was happening, the gun clattered to the ground. Braol hit Jiran so hard that he went flying across the room, and Sarai gasped, her heart leaping in her chest.
Deseer grabbed a chair and tried to hit Braol with it, but he easily dodged and threw her against the wall. She hit it with a horrible thud and slid down, unmoving.
Jiran roared and threw himself at Braol. The fight was brutal, but it was clear that Braol was going to win. He was a gladiator, and Jiran was not. Jiran had explained that he was a noble on his planet. He did little fighting, and always with a weapon.
Sarai stayed frozen, her body shaking ever so slightly. What should she do?
If she did nothing, Braol would kill Jiran and take her. Her training told her to wait quietly for her master to claim her.
But that meant Jiran would die.
She didn’t want to wait quietly. She didn’t want Jiran to die.
Of course, even if she wanted to do something, Sarai didn’t know what. The gun was lying several feet away on the floor, but she had no idea how to use it and would just as likely shoot herself as Braol. She looked frantically around the room for something that could help her, but there was nothing, just her and her wits.
With no time to form a proper plan, Sarai leaped up from the bed.
“Master! Take me!”
She threw herself into Braol’s arms, stunning both him and Jiran so much that they stopped fighting for a moment. Braol looked down at her, reaching for her. His fingers gripped around her, pinching her thighs so hard it hurt.
In his moment of triumph, before he could turn his mind back to Jiran, Sarai hooked her leg around his ankle and pulled with all her strength. It wasn’t enough to upend him, as she’d intended, but he stumbled, taking a second to get his balance back.
That second was enough.
Jiran lunged for the gun, pointing it at Braol.
“Sarai, get down!”
This time, Sarai followed the order just like she’d been trained to do. She hit the floor hard and flattened herself. A bang and a spray of blood followed. Sarai winced as she felt hot, wet blood cover her.
The body fell heavily next to her. The next moment, Jiran’s arms were around her.
“Sarai! Are you alright?”
“I—I think so.”
She let him pull her to her feet. She was shaking, but Jiran let her lean on him. From the corner of her eye, she could see the splatters of blood, and Braol lying on the floor.
This was the violence the masters on Krakia had tried to spare them from. And as she faced it, she wondered if they had been right. Bile rose in her throat, and she quickly turned away from Braol’s lifeless body.
“Why did you do it?” Jiran asked quietly, cradling her against himself.
Sarai felt numb. Even her thoughts had frozen, and she didn’t know what to say. Why had she done it? It all seemed so distant now. But as she turned back to Jiran, looking at his kind, golden eyes, she remembered why.
“I like you,” she admitted. “I don’t want Braol as a master. You gave me a gift in honor of a human holiday. I also want to give you a gift: myself.”
Jiran looked at her, with kindness and care in his eyes. He gently caressed her face, as though she was the most precious thing in the world. He kissed her on the forehead before putting himself an arm’s length away from her.
“Thank you, Sarai. I could not receive a more wondrous gift… but I can’t accept it. You need to figure out what you want for yourself.”
Sarai frowned. “But what if I want to stay with you?”
Jiran’s lip turned in a sad smile. “Then I’ll be here. But you’ve only just escaped that life. You don’t know what’s out there yet. Once you know your options, if you still want to remain with me… I’ll be here.”
Sarai had never been rejected before, and it stung a little, but not as much as she would have expected. From the way he refused, it was clear that Jiran wanted her. He wasn’t saying no. He was saying he wanted to wait, not for his own sake, but for hers.
No one had ever done anything like that for her before. It went beyond giving her gifts. He was denying himself something he clearly wanted, for her. Her throat became tight and tears threatened to form in her eyes.
Sarai threw her arms around Jiran, and he squeezed her tightly, his breath warm in her hair.
It was the first time Sarai had ever been hugged.
Yes, she had made the right decision.
After a few moments, Jiran broke away. “I need to check on Deseer. I think she’s just knocked out, but if it’s more serious…”
“Of course. Is there anything I can do?”
“Hopefully not. If she’s just unconscious, she’ll wake up on her own.”
Sarai crouched next to him as Jiran checked Deseer. He lifted her eyelids to look into her eyes, checked her pulse, and examined her body for injuries. Sarai wanted to question him about what he was doing—this seemed like a useful skill—but she didn’t want to break his concentration.
Finally, Jiran sighed in relief. “She’ll be fine. We should probably try to wake her up, though. She’ll want some pai
n medication. Deseer.” He nudged her gently, then a bit harder. “Deseer, wake up.”
Deseer’s eyelids flickered a moment later, and she groaned.
“You’re alright,” Jiran told her. “You were knocked out, but you’ll be fine.”
Deseer sat up and looked around the room. Her eyes landed on Braol, and she groaned again. “No, I won’t be fine. None of us will.” She looked at Jiran, her eyes wide and filled with sadness. “What have you done, Jiran?”
“I defended myself,” Jiran said simply.
Deseer shook her head. “You think his father is going to care who attacked who first? We’ll be hunted for the rest of our lives!”
“Zarata will protect us.”
“If they do, they’ll invite war with Krakia!”
Jiran sighed, suddenly seeming tired as he rubbed his forehead with his hand.
“You’re right,” he said. “We’ll have to go into hiding. Don’t worry, I’ll make a plan for you. Put out a video or something saying that I killed him, that you had nothing to do with it. You can go home. You can keep living your life.”
Deseer snorted. “Like I’m going to let you and Sarai go into hiding alone! I’ll take running with my brother over staying on Zarata without him any day.”
Jiran hesitated. “Are… are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
The two of them smiled and fell into an embrace. When they broke apart, Jiran turned to Sarai.
“What about you? You have a choice too, Sarai. I believe going into hiding is the wisest option, but if you’d like, you can fight your case in the galactic courts. If that’s what you want, I’ll support you.”
“I don’t want to fight.” Sarai cast a nervous look at Braol’s body. “I think one fight was enough for me. Let’s just get somewhere far away from here.”
Jiran smiled. “You have my agreement there.”
He turned back to Braol, his expression turning serious once more.
“I’ll take care of the body,” he said. “You two should get ready to leave. We can fetch the ship in a few hours. And then… then I guess we’ve got a course to plot.”
Stars, Snow and Mistletoe: A Holiday Naughty List Collection Page 15