The Melier: Prodigal Son

by Poppy Rhys

  “You are? You are a prince?”

  “Yes,” he agreed. “I am a Melierun prince.”

  The room swam, and Dania pressed a hand to one of the lockers, leaning against it.

  A prince?

  Clues clicked into place one at a time, painting a clearer picture. His expensive robes at the club, his bodyguards, his ridiculous gift, and this whole fucked up abduction and forced enslavement situation they found themselves in.

  Granted, a rich businessman—as she thought he’d been—could still explain all that, but alien royalty fit. His polished way of speaking and posture, when they’d been introduced, screamed supremacy. She distinctly had the impression not many—if any—ever told him no.

  “Is it money he wants from you? Why don’t you pay him?”

  “It is not money,” Val’Koy grunted.

  Vu’Mal’Su had tricked him. Used her and the illusion of a youngling to get Val’Koy here. How else would someone get a fucking prince to do what they wanted?

  But why?

  “Then what?” she asked.

  “He is psychotic, Dania. He wants revenge.”

  “What did you do to him?”

  “I did nothing.” He scowled.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” he hissed out, and exhaled when she stood there expectantly.

  He couldn’t just do that—say it had nothing to do with him and then not explain. She glared at him to elaborate.

  “My brother was captured during the war by one of Emperor Vu’Mal’Su’s closest commanders, Ta’Ra’Enn, whom my brothers killed to save their mate.”

  Vu’Mal’Su was a fucking emperor?

  Dania buried her face into her hands and groaned. She’d been roped into some political bullshit and all she’d done was sleep with—unknowingly—an alien prince!

  “All I wanted was a one-night stand,” she mumbled into her palms.

  “For what it is worth,” Val’Koy rumbled, “I am sorry you were dragged into this.”

  Shit.

  He struck a chord, was—probably unintentionally—playing on her sympathies, because she couldn’t just think of herself. Maybe at the beginning, but now she actually cared about Val’Koy and Jruviin.

  Dania peeked at Jruviin from between her splayed fingers. “Are you a prince too?”

  “No.” He half smiled. “I am no prince.”

  Yes, you are.

  She closed her fingers and hid her face again, wondering what the little voice in her head hinted at.

  Jruviin may not be titled a prince, but he’d been charming from the very beginning.

  The alarm blared, and Dania jumped, dropping her hands. That dreaded signal which screamed it was their turn to fight.

  The walk through the hall felt like moving through sludge. River’s howl percolated in his chest the entire time, the sound deep and harrowing.

  “I don’t know why he’s doing that,” she whispered, stroking his arm, then pushed, “Are you okay?”

  She glimpsed Val’Koy and Jruviin sharing a silent conversation through locked eyes, and it made her skin pucker with goosebumps.

  “He senses something.”

  “Danger. Danger. Danger,” River pushed into her brain, like he was stuck on repeat. He stopped walking on his hind legs, as he normally did, and moved to all fours, prowling beside her, lips curled back, nose sniffing the sand, the air; tall ears flicking back and forth.

  “Wh-what is it?” her voice tremored.

  “Unsure.” Val’Koy appeared alert.

  “We sense it too.”

  It figured. They were all predators. She felt severely lacking. Her prey senses only started pinging when the aliens around her grew cagey.

  “Something is coming,” the Melier muttered under his breath. She barely heard him but wished she hadn’t.

  The ominous premonition that had stung her skin in the locker room and it did so again now. Her arm hair stood, and her shoulders hunched as she hugged herself, eyes wide.

  They’d reached the end, and Jruviin drew his line in the sand. He didn’t have to tell her not to move from it. She knew the drill.

  Her fingers sank into the thick scruff of River’s back when he angled his body in front of her, his side pressing against her chest while he remained on all fours.

  The arena remained barren. Her fighters stood there, weapons bared, tracking the doors around the big pit, waiting to see which one would open and bring forth their opponents.

  The crowd hummed, curious what was taking so long. Like her.

  “It’ll be okay,” she inwardly cooed, stroking River’s hair, attempting to soothe him—or maybe she was soothing herself.

  “Danger. Danger. Danger,” he whispered, and she held back a cringe.

  Directly across the arena, a set of large wooden doors swung open and a mob spilled out.

  Jruviin turned and roared, “Get her out of here!”

  Chaos erupted.

  Dania croaked, her throat squeezing off the pitiful sound as she crossed the line, a hand outstretched for him, before River yanked her back.

  She turned to the locker room to see two guards blocked their way, beam lashes ready to strike. They couldn’t retreat.

  River snarled so viciously that saliva dripped from his jagged teeth.

  “River, they’re coming!” She frantically pointed to a part of the mob that split off and headed their direction. They’d be trapped.

  He roughly pulled her onto his back and his feelers wrapped around her middle, anchoring her. Dania fisted her hands into his shoulder fur, her knees clenched tight at his sides while she angled low against his back as if she were on a speeding hoverbike, when he took off on all fours.

  She’d never ridden a live creature before.

  River leapt from the tunnel and into the arena, biting the meaty leg of the first alien that reached them. It screeched and hit the sand, and River dodged sharply to the side, paws and claws digging into the sand as he raced along the edge of the arena away from those that gave chase.

  The crowd boomed so loudly it hurt her ears. She smelled sweat and blood and sand and felt sweltering heat. It rose from the ground and emanated from the wolvenk in waves, adding to her own oppressive body temperature.

  Dania tried to catch a glimpse of her fighters. Where were they?

  The mob had swallowed them up and screams of all kinds pierced the air. Everyone battled on the sands.

  Tears sprang in her eyes. Why were they fighting each other?

  Did that mean her aliens were dead?

  “River, I can’t see them!” she cried at the wolvenk. “I can’t see them!”

  Please be alive, Dania chanted, please, please be alive.

  More fighters came at them from ahead, the others closing in from behind. River halted, sand and dust flying at the sudden stop.

  This is how we die.

  She knew it was coming. Inevitable. Fighters and their pets only lived for so long. They’d all been on borrowed time.

  Dania just wished she’d used that time better.

  If her death would be at the hands of this depraved mob, she didn’t want to see it coming. Her eyelids slid closed.

  River jolted. Dania’s eyes popped open.

  The crowd above shrieked with terror and glee as River climbed the high arena wall. His claws scraped, and he grappled, while Dania squeezed to him and held on.

  “You can do this, River,” she encouraged. “You can make it!”

  His breathing ran ragged, but he persevered, snarling and clawing at stone. The sound of weapons hitting the wall below shot her nerves. She hoped no one had the nerve, or good aim, to throw something sharp at their backs.

  She didn’t think they wanted her dead. Not yet, anyway. Not before they got to play.

  Dania flinched.

  River’s right paw curled over the ledge, then his left, and soon he hauled them over the wall and jumped into the stands.

  Patrons screamed and scattered away from the
threatening wolvenk. Dania immediately sat up, head turning and eyes searching, searching, searching.

  “There!” she yelled, pointing. Her fighters lived!

  Bodies stacked around them as they fought back to back, covering each other and battling for their lives.

  “You can do it baby,” Dania chorused under her breath, gaze darting back and forth over her aliens she now barely recognized.

  Val’Koy flung the curly bowels of his last victim from his lower arm, and Jruviin decapitated an insectoid with his bare hands.

  Her breath caught.

  For a split moment, they weren’t at each other’s backs, the mob—too strong—divided them.

  The jagged, splintered tip of a broken spear burst through Jru’s side. He hadn’t dodged fast enough.

  Dania screamed, and her fingers curled tighter into River’s pelt as tears blurred her vision and she yelled his name.

  “Jruviin!” she cried, watching her alien stagger to the side and grasp the protruding spear to rip it out.

  Val’Koy’s roar reached her even as River tore through the stadium, leaping over the tiered seating and knocking spectators out of the way when they didn’t move speedily enough.

  Those nearby screamed in terror at the sight of River and the sound of his feral snarls. It mixed with the thunderous jeering of the crowd on the other side of the arena, appetites wetted by the unexpected carnage.

  Jruviin flipped the broken spear and shoved it straight through the offender’s throat. It burst from the back of its neck before Jru yanked it out. He faltered to the side as the hemorrhaging alien dropped to its knees and face planted into the sand.

  And still the horde just kept coming.

  “River!” Dania shouted above the screams. “We can’t leave them!”

  “Protect Mine!” The push was forceful, as if driving his point home.

  Tears soaked her neck and dampened the rough collar of her dress. She held on, jostled as River continued to dodge guards that tried to apprehend them.

  The guards loosed the horde, and with a roar of screaming flesh, the mob spilled from the stadium entrance ahead, bleeding into the stands, weaving around screeching patrons. They made a beeline for them. Who knew what reward had been offered for her return?

  Dania shrieked, “Val’Koy!”

  If possible, the Melier turned more savage. He ripped off body parts with his jaws, and nearly decapitated two opponents at the same time with only his talons.

  His four bloodstained arms worked on their separate tasks, out of sync, killing anything, tearing down anything, that surrounded him.

  Fear laced her body at this vision of him in a blind rage. It intimidated her to see Jruviin so devoid of emotion as he—while favoring his side—violently, efficiently ribboned every limb that came at him.

  And still, she cried their names.

  ****

  VAL’KOY

  The piercing sound of Dania’s scream sliced his nerves and drove him to fight harder. His lengthened claws slashed and hacked and stabbed anything that fucking tried to reach him. Blood coated his mouth and stained his body. He drooled with the gore of those that threatened what was his.

  He’d abandoned weapons ten kills ago.

  Their faces blurred in his line of vision that hazed with the need to eviscerate.

  He had to get to her. She wasn’t safe.

  “Talk to me!” he roared, calling for his wounded partner. He needed to know the Drae lived.

  “Keep pushing!” Jruviin yelled over the noise.

  It fueled Val’Koy on. His teammate and Dania were alive. It needed to stay that way just as he needed to get to them.

  ****

  DANIA

  Dania braced for impact as the first of the horde reached them.

  She felt the air ripple with the force of the blow against River. Hard bodies collided, two walls of muscle, heavy bones, and sinew fighting for dominance.

  Her pores pinched and puckered with goosebumps at the harrowing sound of River’s jaws cracking through shell and bones in between spine-stiffening gnarrs. Her legs cemented around him, her fingers gripping his pelt so tightly, she thought she might rip out clumps of it.

  Something changed.

  River vaulted over a throng of escaping patrons as a faction of the horde split off and attacked the guards.

  Absolute anarchy flared.

  No longer did the crowd on the other side bellow their amusement—they howled with fear, tripping over themselves and others to get to the exits and away from the ungoverned fighters.

  Her eyes darted to the sponsor section. The pompous assholes no longer watched with bloodthirsty grins but attempted to scatter.

  No one planned this.

  Vu’Mal’Su pushed people out of his way as he headed for the exit, his entertained guttural calls had silenced.

  “What’s happening?”

  “They attack masters,” River pushed back. “Must get Mine away.”

  “Val’Koy! Jruviin!” she yelled again, eyes searching the arena. It was scattered with guests that fell over the sides and into the pit. They ran wildly in all directions, fighters hot on their heels.

  “Dania!” Val’Koy bellowed, hefting himself over the wall at the bottom row of seating. River halted.

  “I’m here!” she cried, tears of relief pricking her eyes. He leaned over, pulling Jruviin up, and all her relief plummeted to the pit of her stomach.

  Jru clutched his wounded side and leaned heavily on Val who carried most of his weight. Dark blood stained his feathers, but the glistening fluid seeping from between his fingers—she knew it belonged to him.

  She reached out when they got closer and River’s feelers unlatched from her so she could slide off his back.

  “You’re both alive!” She rushed them, sliding her hands up their chests, feeling them. They were real, this was real, and they were with her again.

  “We have to go,” Jruviin rasped, hissing a breath and curling over his side.

  “You need a doctor!” Dania’s hands froze, hovering above his wound. “We have to find you a doctor.”

  She couldn’t lose him!

  “We will,” Val’Koy ground out, adjusting Jru’s arm slung over his shoulders. “We need to leave this place. Now!”

  Dania shakily nodded and hurried to River, mounting his back once again.

  THIRTY-ONE

  DANIA

  The whole dome was pandemonium. Sector five had imploded. Fighters ran down other fighters and patrons and guards—no one was off limits. Vendors were ransacked, buildings were on fire, and the ground menacingly shook with every explosion.

  “We have to get to the port,” Val’Koy instructed her. She understood. This was their chance at freedom.

  The only problem? Everyone else seemed to have the same idea.

  The large port teemed with those trying to flee. Transports and small crafts fired up, leaving the dome’s open exit high above. Someone had left it open and the perpetual storm raging on the surface sent sand and dirt flying in, contaminating the air while it littered the port the longer the bay was open.

  They had to find a craft.

  Dania’s eyes scanned, darting back and forth, this way and that, attempting to find any transport they had a chance of commandeering.

  So many of these were high tech, shiny, and new. Practically thief proof. She couldn’t trick biometrics or genetic encryptions—not without time or tools, and she had neither.

  “Dania!” Val’Koy hollered, pointing at a craft.

  “No!” she shook her head. It was too new. “Not that one.” She caught sight of a small dinged up b’oto craft that screamed ancient. “This one!”

  “Dania—”

  “Just trust me, okay?” she yelled over the rumbling engines and shrieking. “Hurry!”

  No one gunned for that outdated craft, probably thinking it wouldn’t survive atmospheric breach—and it might not—but she’d bet her life it was tougher than it appeared. Sh
e had flown on ships that looked worse.

  She just hoped no one else figured that out.

  Jruviin had let go of Val’Koy, keeping up on his own as they raced across the port, dodging scrambling people.

  A red blaster beam shot across her vision and nicked Val’Koy’s upper bicep.

  Dania screamed as Val lurched to the side, bashing into a trio of runners. They spilled to the floor and Val roared, clutching his smoking arm. The scent of cooked flesh tinged the air.

  River didn’t stop. He ran, galloping through the throng of people. “We’re losing them!” she pulled at River’s pelt. “Stop!”

  “They catch up,” he grunted, leaping over a trampled body. Dania’s stomach quivered, her head cranked on her neck to watch as Jruviin ran toward them after helping Val up, but Val’Koy didn’t follow.

  He glowered at something. Dania followed his gaze.

  Vu’Mal’Su.

  The Trep raised his blaster, walking with a purpose toward her alien.

  “Val’Koy!” she shrieked.

  No, no, no, this couldn’t be happening. One good shot and she could lose him forever. He’d be gone. Dead. There’d be no coming back from it.

  Jruviin tossed a look over his shoulder, nearly tripping when he realized Val’Koy rushed toward Vu’Mal’Su.

  “Do not stop!” Jru commanded River, face grim.

  River didn’t.

  How could he? Her vision blurred. How could Jruviin just leave Val’Koy?

  She screamed his name again, begging him to look her way.

  Their bodies clashed and Val’Koy ripped the blaster from Vu’Mal’Su’s hands.

  Vu’Mal’Su and Val’Koy collided with the force of two mountains, blaster kicked away, fists and claws and teeth snapping, scraping, stabbing.

  A sudden, well placed bite to the Trep’s arm left it hanging at an unnatural angle. Then a powerful blow to the snout so fierce, Vu’Mal’Su flew back a few yards, and right into the waiting arms of his entourage.

  ****

  VAL’KOY

  “Val’Koy!” Dania shrieked his name again, each time from farther and farther away.

  Val’Koy had Vu’Mal’Su where he wanted him—vulnerable and without aid. The scales along the emperor's arm, where Val’Koy had bitten, were ripped and oozing blood. His chest swelled with every gust of air he inhaled, foul fluid drooling from his teeth when Dania yelled his name again.