by Marie Dry
“Yes,” he said, as if he didn’t just pull the foundation of her new life from under her.
The world around her tilted, everything shattered into a million pieces, and for one strange moment, hovered around her in pieces. She heard his casual affirmation as if from a distance. The room around her abruptly crashed back into place. “You didn’t think to tell me that you’d been married before?” It should’ve occurred to her. Now she realized why she’d always felt vaguely uncomfortable here. This room was furnished for another woman.
“I wasn’t married, I had a breeder.”
The jewel-encrusted armrest was hard and cold beneath her fingers. Only her tight hold kept her sitting upright. Dazed, she looked around her. At the opulent room not furnished for her. “Now I understand this room,” she said out loud.
He looked around, as if trying to figure out what she saw. “What do you understand?”
“I always felt as if this room wasn’t for me.” She’d assumed it was because she felt so alien and out of place on this planet. Instead, this was her room? The woman he’d chosen, not the one foisted on him by a prophecy. Hurt sliced her through to her bones.
“It is the room of the Zyrgin’s breeder,” he said with such calm unconcern, she really wanted to hit him.
“You lied to me.” Betrayal tasted like bitter Zyrgin meat on her tongue.
“I did not.”
“How could you not tell me you’d been married before?” she accused.
“Why should I tell you?”
Sarah wanted to punch his arrogant face. “So, you think I should just cowboy up and merrily continue? As if you lying to me is no big deal?”
He tilted his head. “What is this cowboy up?”
She closed her eyes. “It’s just a saying. How did she kill herself? Why did she commit suicide?” Was the other woman that unhappy? Or did she end her own life because of reasons that will eventually drive Sarah to the same fate. Already she felt like a bird in a gilded cage.
“She wanted to go back to her planet,” he said as if it was the most unreasonable request. “She wanted real babies,” he added after a while.
Real babies? “Why did you never mention her?” Did he love the other woman? Did he still mourn her?
“She is dead.”
She went to rake her hands through her hair again and clenched her fists when she touched the hard point of a jeweled comb. “That’s not the point. You should’ve told me about her. No woman wants to be lied to by her…warrior.” Second best. That was what she was to him. She couldn’t bear it.
“I do not have to tell you anything.” He cocked his head. “But I will allow you to ask me questions,” he said with a magnanimous air that made her palms itch.
Thoughts raced through her head. But there was only one thing she wanted to know. Only one thing that was important. “Did you love her?”
“No.”
She thought that was what she wanted to hear, but it only made her worry that he was incapable of loving anyone. “Then why did you choose her?”
“I saw her beauty and thought she’d be a good breeder.” Chills crept down her spine, like ice splinters. He’d called her beautiful too. Was that all he wanted out of relationship: a pretty face and a desirable body? Sarah stared up at him. What if she’d come millions of miles to another planet to start a new life with a male who wasn’t capable of having the kind of partnership with a woman she wanted? The kind of relationship she’d wanted badly enough to trust an alien more frightening than the cruelest raider.
Then one thought chased everything else out of her mind. “You said she wanted real babies—did she have your children?” Sarah’s tongue tasted bitter and she wanted to get back to Earth even if she had to steal a spaceship.
“I have eleven, what you would call, sons.”
Sarah staggered back. Eleven! Some insane part of her wanted to know why he had eleven sons with his first wife and wanted only one with Sarah.
She rubbed her hands over her face. “It didn’t occur to you to tell me about your sons when you came to me on Earth?”
“No,” he said so arrogantly her palm itched.
11
Sarah didn’t know what to say to him. She looked around to gain time. “I hate this room.” Eleven sons?
She thought he flashed a fang, but it happened so fast she could be mistaken. “You want more things?” Obviously, wife number one demanded things. Sarah wanted to flash a fang, as well. She wouldn’t call her that. Number one sounded too much like someone beloved and irreplaceable. More important than a camp survivor could ever be.
“No, I want a room where she didn’t sleep. A space she never shared with you.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “And just so you know, I don’t want things. What I want is to see the sun come up and set. I want to experience the heat of the sun on my face. Feel the cold, stand in the rain.” She gestured to the door. “I know that there are seasons out there and I want to experience them.” She took a shuddering breath. “I can’t stand being shut away like this anymore. If this is going to be how I spend the rest of my life, you might as well kill me.”
His eyes narrowed and she braced herself, but she’d meant what she said. This was no way to live.
“You are not allowed to end yourself.” Something in his voice—a fierce rejection.
“I said you could kill me, not that I’d kill myself.” She threw up her hands. “If I didn’t kill myself in the camps, why would I do it now?” There had been moments, dark moments, but hope that her friends would find her had kept her going. Though eleven step sons, that might just do it.
He stared at her, until she had to concentrate not to fidget. “You will move to my room.”
“What would be the difference? I’d still be trapped in a cage. No sunshine, no wind, no freedom.” And she’d probably have to share a bed with him. Don’t lie to yourself, Sarah, she raged silently. She’d wondered what it would be like.
“You will pack your belongings and we will take it to my dwelling now. We will be like an Earth warrior and his breeder.” He cocked his head. “Except I am superior to any Zyrgin warrior on Earth.”
“Of course you are,” she muttered.
He inclined his head, accepting his due, deaf to her sarcasm. How wonderful it must be to be that arrogant and oblivious.
“If you’re going to keep me trapped inside and continue to refuse to let me speak to my friends, it’s no use.”
“I will consider breaking our rules to let you go outside if you move to my room.”
“Did she share your room with you?” If she did, she wouldn’t live there. It might be unreasonable, but she would have something that was hers alone. He’d have to take her there kicking and screaming.
“No.”
Sarah relaxed slightly. Maybe she could do this.
He picked up and handled the things going into the crate as if they weighed nothing. He made several trips and the last trip he picked up her case with toiletries and other fripperies. He also carried the three pelts out. The third one he’d given her a few days ago. “You are the emperor of how many planets and you don’t call servants to carry stuff for you.”
“I am properly called the parenadorz and I rule sixty-two planets. It would show a lack of strength and honor if I cannot carry these myself.”
She followed him to big, elaborate double doors opposite the room she’d been staying in. “What do you call the wife of the parenadorz?”
“Breeder.”
Sarah was about to tell him what she thought of that sexist name, but she stopped and stared. The room was enormous with glinting silver walls. But it was almost empty. The only furniture she could see was a slab coming out of the wall that seemed to function as a desk. On the other end, lay a bedroll with a long, rolled cushion. That was it. She turned to face him. “You rule literally the whole universe and you have no furniture and sleep on the floor?” It just didn’t add up. He was an emperor, for heaven’s sake.
/> “You wish to have an unpleasantly soft bed?” he asked.
Sarah shrugged. “Don’t bother on my account.” He knew she’d been sleeping on the floor. She’d slept on worse.
She looked around her at the enormous room. He’d stacked her things in the corner close to his bedroll. “Do you have closets in the walls like in my…in the other room?” She could never consider that opulent room hers, not now that she knew who had lived there before her.
“Yes.” He walked to the farthest wall. “If you touch here, it will open.” The wall slid away and she saw empty space before it closed again.
“What happened to the eduki pelts you got for, for your first wife?” She didn’t know why this was such an issue for her. Maybe because she knew the other woman would’ve been clean and sensual and able to be a wife to him.
“I only hunted one eduki for her and she rejected the pelt. She burned it to show her disgust with our primitive customs.” He said it in a monotone voice, as if it didn’t touch him, but she suspected it had a much bigger impact on him than even he suspected.
His first marriage sounded like a nightmare. She looked around at the personal quarters of the most powerful male in the known universe. Laughter burst out of her.
“Why do you laugh?”
She stood bent over, bracing her hands on her knees and laughed harder at the suspicion in his voice. “This is so funny. You rule practically the whole universe, and we’re sleeping on the floor on bear skins.”
“I will conquer the unknown galaxies and then I will be parenadorz of the entire universe,” he said.
At that, Sarah laughed harder. Sinking to her knees she laughed and laughed.
“You will stop that ugly sound, breeder,” he commanded.
She forced the laughter back and got to her feet. “Does my laughter really sound ugly to you?” she asked curiously. She should be insulted, but she thought he looked hideous when he bared his teeth in what she suspected was his version of a smile.
“Yes, it sounds like the chirping of the tunnel spiders.”
That sounded horrible. Different culture, different species—don’t be insulted, she reminded herself. But she was a little insulted. “Well, no one can accuse you of lying to spare my feelings,” she mumbled.
He moved his bedroll closer to hers. “Do you wish me to bathe again?”
She frowned up at him. “What? Why?”
“Females have delicate noses,” he said, matter-of-fact.
“Mine isn’t that delicate anymore. And I like the way you smell.” She’d gotten used to his arrogance and it hurt to see him so careful.
Sarah wrapped her arms around herself. “I want to do your first knowing, Zaar, but I don’t know if I’m capable.” She looked down at her feet that wouldn’t stay still.
“I will fix you and we will do the first knowing, and afterward, I will claim many hours in the sleeping place.”
It hurt—even knowing it was the truth, it hurt to be called broken by him. She shuddered. “You keep saying you’ll fix me. But how do you plan to do that?” If she was going to be intimate with any male, it would be him. She’d had this inexplicable fascination for him from the very first moment they met, when she’d kicked him in the nuts. But she couldn’t be that way with him. Just the thought of him doing all those things to her. She mourned the young woman she used to be, the one who’d been shyly curious with Charl.
That woman had died in the camps. In her place was a person who knew too much about what men did to women. No, that wasn’t true. She knew about monsters. Making love would be new to her. Zaar was not one of the monsters. She had to remember that. She turned back to Zaar, determined to at least try.
“I will consult my expert and return.” He disappeared.
She sank down on the pellets. “Or you could just talk to me?” she whispered.
Several days passed. He took all his meals with her and she had the strong sense that he mostly wanted to make sure she ate enough. She didn’t see Srinisisa again and she suffered with a severe case of cabin fever. Even the history lessons that reminded her of bedtime stories didn’t help to relieve the feeling of being trapped.
Sarah looked around her at the enormous room that would be her new home. “Let’s marry an emperor, go to another galaxy where you’re the only human around,” she muttered while she studied the weapons on the wall. “Where you’re never allowed outside and have only alien food to eat.” What looked like thousands of swords and knives and weird axe-like weapons were stuck to the wall. She couldn’t figure out how they were mounted. They seemed to just be stuck on the wall as if someone had glued them there. Some looked vaguely like laser pistols. With a sigh she got up and unpacked her clothes into the mostly empty closet. Like with the door, a wall slid open and there was her dream closet. Space-wise anyway. She stored her belongings in the closet and hid her stash of food as best she could. She sat down in the corner where she’d made a nest for herself. No windows in this room either. She rested her chin on her knees and looked around this new chapter in her life. The room was so big it would be possible to add a wall to seal off the bedroom area. She didn’t relish being asleep and having his warriors come in to discuss business. It was one of the horrific aspects of the camps: not having any privacy, being stripped of every shred of dignity.
“I brought you an appropriate teddy bear,” he said, right in front of her.
Sarah screamed and dived under the bear pelt. It took several moments for her heart to stop thundering and her blood to slow enough in her veins so that she could think. Feeling foolish, her face warm, she came out from under the pelt. “Remember we agreed you would knock and make some noise when you walk?”
He crouched in front of her, looking male and sexy and so dangerous she wanted to dive under the bear pelt again. He pressed his forehead against hers. “We did not agree, but I will do this,” he said.
“Why do you do press your forehead to mine every time you see me?” she asked. She actually liked it, but it was a strangely affectionate action for such a stern warrior.
“In ancient times, the planet was dangerous. Every time a warrior left might be the last time he saw his breeder.” He held something silver in his claw. “This is your bedtime Zyrgin.”
Sarah blinked. “Excuse me?” Life with him would never be boring.
He wiggled it in front of her face. “It is inappropriate for you to have an eduki cuddly toy, but a very handsome Zyrgin bedtime bear is acceptable.”
Sarah felt like rubbing her eyes and saying, “huh?”
He pushed the toy into her hand and she closed her hand around the soft and almost squishy doll. She studied it and bit her lip to keep the laughter in. About the size of a small teddy bear, it looked exactly like Zaar, the ridges on his head meticulously copied. It was soft and cuddly, but also covered in strange, little nobs. She touched one of the little pimply protrusions and looked up at him. It was just too adorable. How on Earth did he get such an exact replica of himself in such a short time? “What are these?”
“A companion for sleeping is supposed to be fuzzy.” His eyes narrowed. “As your cuddly toy, I am a superior sleep companion.”
“I see.” She looked down at the toy to hide her smile and rubbed her forefinger over the doll’s ridge. It changed from green and gold to a full gold.
“You can change your toy to be your favorite Zaar,” he said arrogantly.
The smile that tugged at her lips broadened and she couldn’t suppress a giggle. He pounced on it.
“You are cured and would be prepared to do the first knowing?”
Sarah stared at him, thought about it. He could’ve hurt her by now. She had no power here; he could do with her what he wanted. Instead he brought her his version of a teddy bear. He’d also given her chocolates. She wanted to be healed enough to do his first knowing, but the mere idea of being that helpless again made her break out in a cold sweat. “I wish I could do it, that I’m normal enough to trust you. But I’m
afraid that you won’t stop if I can’t do it anymore.”
“I have omgraz’ra—I do not force my breeder.”
This was different. He wasn’t dragging her around, throwing her to the ground, promising his friends a turn. Beating her with his fists simply because he could. Sarah straightened. For her own sake she wanted to try, wanted to be able to do this, to take her sexuality back. To be totally free of the memories from the camp. The Zyrgin treatment while she was in stasis had done a lot, but the last step to healing was up to her.
She clutched the toy so hard, her fingers ached. “Do I have your word of honor as a Zyrgin warrior that you’ll stop when I say?”
He straightened even more. “Yes. But if I stop, we will try again tomorrow.”
Of course he’d want to try every day. She touched her ribs, where her heart beat overtime. Maybe that was the solution. Maybe if she tried and tried, night after night, eventually she’d be so comfortable with him that she’d be able to go through with it. She squared her shoulders. “What do I do?” She tried to sound self-assured, like a woman who owned her own sexuality.
“First you will go to lie on my pelt.”
He motioned to the lone pelt and oblong, hard-looking cushion.
“Maybe you can lie down first. If I’m on top—”
He didn’t let her finish. “No.” He snarled it at her, growing larger.
“Why?” She’d feel a lot safer. Even as she asked the question, she walked to his pelt on shaky feet. If he didn’t stop, if he hurt her, at least she could crawl to her own pelts afterward. Sweat beaded on her forehead. Her stomach churned. For once she didn’t think she’d be able to eat, even if someone put Earth food in front of her. Not even an apple. Run, Sarah, you can’t trust him, shouldn’t trust anyone on this planet, that voice in her head shouted.
“It is the proper way of doing the first knowing. I am doing it with you, not you with me,” he explained. “Never again insult me with such a suggestion.”
Too soon she reached the pallet that didn’t look like that of an emperor’s. She sank down on the large, brown pelt, shaking so much she nearly tumbled off. His explanation barely registered. Every fiber of her being screamed at her that she shouldn’t be here, that she wasn’t safe. And yet she couldn’t escape into her head like she used to do in the camps. Something deep inside her, a desperate kind of hope, was keeping her consciousness here. Pulling up her knees, she wrapped her arms around her legs and sat staring up at the alien that was scarier than a camp full of raiders. Something banged against her knees and she realized that she still held the ‘teddy bear’. She clenched her fingers into it.