Bowing her head, Aura stared down at the gold and cream dress that marked her as part of the harem, bitterness infusing her voice. “Will you tell them that I asked you to help me escape?”
“I understand why you feel this way. But if you see the real Pandora, the one outside the walls of the palace, then you wouldn’t be so eager to get away.”
That was easy for her to say, Aura thought to herself, resisting the urge to voice the caustic words. This woman seemed to be allowed to move freely with no locked doors keeping her as a captive. She couldn’t know what it was like.
“Have you ever been locked away?” Aura asked, assuming she already knew the answer to that question. “Forced into a cage like an animal?”
“Once, yes.”
“Oh,” Aura responded, her anger deflating slightly at the revelation. “Was it your Alpha?”
“They all have a tendency toward heavy-handedness,” Ianthe acknowledged, lips thinning slightly as if acknowledging that fact didn’t trigger a pleasant memory. “But you have to think of the alternative.”
“You say it as if I don’t have any choice but to pick the lesser of two evils.”
“Then I’m not explaining it right. I’d never felt safe for even a moment in my life until Legion claimed me. It took time for me to settle into the idea, but I am truly happy now. The freedom you want is an illusion. None of us is truly free, whether our bonds are mental or physical. And the escape that you’re asking for will only bring you pain.”
For a moment, Aura wished that she had not been given the translation unit, almost preferring the barrier of ignorance that would have prevented this conversation. Ianthe’s words made her question herself and her own assumptions, but she found it difficult to accept that the situation she found herself in was the best available to her. The feelings that had arose when she watched Castor greet the woman whom he apparently intended to marry weren’t ones that she could withstand. Already, visions of him mounting the other woman as he had done to her so many times in the Forbidden Zone assaulted her thoughts.
She didn’t want to acknowledge that primary among her thoughts was a deep-welled jealousy and a sense of betrayal so profound that she practically choked on it. Castor didn’t belong to her, he’d made that abundantly clear. But she couldn’t remain here, suffering the attentions of other Alphas, while he joined himself to another. It didn’t matter how sumptuous the surroundings or decadent the food that was available for her.
Aura would rather starve then be here for another moment.
“Does that mean you won’t ask Legion if he’ll help me?” Aura finally asked, voice resigned.
Ianthe stared down at her for a long moment, the depths of her eyes swirling with whatever thoughts she hadn’t yet voiced. Finally, she sighed and gave a slight shrug. “Perhaps you need to see the truth for yourself. I can’t promise you anything, but I’ll try.”
A surge of triumph ran through Aura as the first genuine smile since she’d arrived at the palace shone on her face. “Thank you.”
“I only hope you don’t regret it.”
Chapter Six
Several days passed in the harem, almost entirely spent lounging around the pool, eating or futile attempts to sleep the hours away. The only difference no were the guards who remained stationed at the entrance who had not been there before. Aura couldn’t tell if they had been tasked with keeping others out or the women in, but she understood their new assignment was Castor’s doing. Ianthe must have spoken to him, after all.
Her life on the Citadel had been one of industry, scavenging for items to trade, gathering water from the cooling ponds that would then have to be fed through reprocesses to make it drinkable, teaching the twins how to navigate the labyrinthine tunnels running through the station so they memorized the safest routes. Despite the austere surroundings, life had not felt like this dull stretch of nothingness into infinity.
Aura was not used to having no purpose.
Her belly now protruded slightly from the rich food that was laid out in a buffet on the side tables and refreshed every few hours. The heaviness of a full stomach made her feel slow and fogged her mind until the passage of time seemed strange and incalculable. She would nap during the day and wander the pavilion at night until any perspective of the hours of the day was lost.
There’d been no word from Castor either, although that came as no surprise.
She hated herself for still wanting him.
Occasionally, she would pass the lattice wall that overlooked the reception hall below and stop to look. But there had been no other interactions for her to spy upon. Perhaps the princess had returned to where she came from. In her sadder moments, Aura convinced herself that Castor and his fiancée had absconded together, laughing over how she had been left here to rot.
The mark throbbed painfully on her shoulder, reminding her that she had been claimed but forgotten.
When Dharia swept into her room, Aura was not asleep but did not bother to look away from her inspection of the engraved ceiling as she lay back on the bed.
“Why aren’t you dressed for dinner yet?” Dharia asked, pretending not to notice the morose look on the younger woman’s face. “I thought you of all people would be eager for a night out of the pavilion.”
Aura’s head snapped up, attention caught, as she regarded Dharia with confusion. “What dinner? We’re fed here.”
“Not tonight, didn’t you hear the bells ringing as an announcement?”
She’d heard the sound but hadn’t recognized what it meant, or cared enough to ask any of the other women. “I guess, what’s going on?”
“The harem is King Rolan’s greatest pride. Whenever there are important visitors in the palace, we’re dressed and trotted out so that he can show off. It’s mostly an annoyance, but at least we get a change of scenery for a bit.”
The first thought that crossed her mind was of escape, that perhaps she could traverse the multiple corridors and halls quickly enough to reach an exit. But that thought was abandoned nearly as soon as it formed. She had no plan and no knowledge of what existed outside of the palace walls. Castor had brought her here via a vehicle that flew through the air, so high that the ground below disappeared into dense clouds of smog. There was little hope of escaping without help.
But perhaps this would be an opportunity to better assess her situation. Getting out of the harem, even if it was just for the night, was certainly a step in the right direction.
Suddenly eager, as if a single spot of light had appeared in the darkness, Aura rose quickly from the bed and came to her feet. “How much time do we have?”
“Less than an hour. You’ll find something to wear in that closet behind you.”
Aura had seen the collection of dresses, all in the distinctive gold and cream color of the daily gown she wore, but in various styles. She didn’t know enough about the customs of this place to be able to tell which was appropriate for captivity, so she’d worn the same thing every day.
“And perhaps you should leave time to bathe,” Dharia advised, wrinkling her nose. “I mean no offense. But from the look of you, it’s been a few days.”
It was true that Aura had put little effort into anything beyond eating and sleeping, including hygiene. She hadn’t much seen the point to expended so much effort. That, and the women bathed in the open pool at the center of the pavilion. The claiming scar on her shoulder would be immediately visible to anyone there and Aura did not want to be confronted with questions about who had placed in on her skin.
“I suppose.”
Dharia cast her a significant glance. “You don’t want the Prince to see you looking anything but your best.”
There had been a fair bit of gossip surrounding her arrival, although no one had been brave enough to bring their questions directly to Aura. Castor had made no secret of arriving with her, which she understood was highly unusual.
And the last thing she wanted to do was provide any answers to the question
s burning in the other women. Curious gazes rested on her whenever she left her bedroom. But Dharia was the only one who’d attempted to actually speak with her and Aura wondered if the woman had been elected their spokeswoman.
“I don’t care about the Prince.” Aura stated firmly, even as the emotional part of her protested. “Who else will be there?”
“The King, of course, and members of his council. Along with whatever foreign dignitaries are invited as his guests.”
Aura crossed the room and idly flipped through the shimmering clothing hanging in the closet. “What will we be expected to do?”
“Sit there and look pretty.” Dharia gave a careless shrug. “It’s always interesting to listen in on the conversation and the food is better than what we get here. You’ll enjoy yourself.”
The thought of the food was enough to make the idea tolerable. If she had to see Castor again, and be ignored by him, at least she could keep her face stuffed while she did it. “I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”
Before leaving, Dharia came to her side and pulled a garment off of the rack. “Wear this one. It’ll be perfect with your figure. The Prince won’t be able to keep his eyes off of you.”
A tide of anger rose over her and Aura had to resist the urge to snatch the garment from the other woman and tear it apart with her bare hands. “Then I should choose something else.”
“You get this sort of faraway look, you know, whenever Prince Castor is mentioned.” Dharia couldn’t hide the spark of curiosity in her eyes, gossip was one of the few diversions they had here. “I know he brought you to the pavilion, but is there more to it than that?”
“There’s nothing more.” Taking the dress, Aura gestured towards the door. “Give me a few minutes to change.”
Dharia walked backwards out of the room, reluctance written on the lines of her face. “Hurry, so we can stand next to each other in the procession and be seated together.”
Aura uncharitably wondered if Dharia was so interested in being together so that she would have a front-row seat for any interactions with Castor. The woman would end up disappointed. Aura had every intention of ignoring the high-handed Prince, and was sure he intended to do the same.
But the mark on her skin burned, reminding her of the fire that was his touch. Seeing him would certainly bring all of those terrible feelings back in a rush. She fought to remember the anger and the sense of betrayal, but it all paled in comparison to the longing that overwhelmed her and clenched the muscles of her belly.
A rush of fluid gushed from inside of her, coating her thighs and filling the room with the heady aroma of her arousal. She couldn’t face him like this, coated in dried slick and sweat, like she’d been spending all of this time running through the jungle like a savage and not lounging in a steam-filled pavilion.
Aura rushed out of her room, the door swinging back so hard that the sound reverberate off of the walls. Ignoring the shocked gasps of the surrounding women, Aura plunged headfirst into the pool, still fully clothed. The water was uncomfortably hot on her overheated skin, but it was enough to wash away the stain of her shameful arousal.
The robes weighed her down as she floated face down, sinking lower and lower with each passing moment. Briefly, Aura considered letting her body sink all the way to the bottom of the pool where oblivion beckoned her like a siren song. It would be so easy to float away, all the pain and certainty left behind in this terrible world.
Aura finally surfaced with a harsh gasp when her lungs could no longer take another moment without oxygen. She didn’t meet any of the wide-eyed gazes surrounding her as she sloshed back to her room, leaving a trail of water across the tiled floor.
This place was taking her sanity, bit by excruciating bit.
“Your hair is soaking into the back of your gown.”
Dharia’s loud whisper carried on the air to Aura’s burning ears. She was well aware of the fact that she looked like a drowned rat in a dress. None of the women had asked for an explanation after Aura’s impromptu bath, but she felt their attention like a physical weight. The other Omegas in the harem had no idea what to make of her.
But Aura fought off the surge of embarrassment and kept her eyes trained forward as they walked in a long procession down the gilded hallways. She couldn’t remember if this was the same route that Castor had walked with her to get to the harem because everything they passed looked exactly the same.
Now that all of them were lined up, Aura noted with some surprise that the women of the harem varied significantly in looks. Some were so fair and blonde that she wondered if they’d ever seen sunlight, while others were complected with skin the color of burnished bronze or darker, like the rich earth of the forest floor in the Forbidden Zone. The King appeared to have few physical preferences.
Assuming he even chose the women who made up his harem. Dharia’s words, of other men making use of the women here, moved through her mind. Perhaps the King could be made to see that she didn’t belong here and be convinced to release her.
“Have you ever spoken to the King?” Aura asked, pitching her voice low.
“Once, although it was many years ago. These sorts of functions are attended by dozens, even hundreds of people, so few of us get close to him. Occasionally, he’ll have one of us brought to him for the night.”
“And then what happens?”
“Nothing as bad as what you’re imagining. From what I hear, he enjoys having an Omega warming his bed for him but he isn’t capable of much more than sleep.”
Before Aura could think of a response, they entered the long dining room that had been outfitted to seat more people than seemed possible. Dozens of chairs lined the long wooden table, each place setting gleaming and gold in the bright light from the chandelier hanging above their heads.
Many of the seats were empty, Aura thankfully noted. But the chairs on both ends of the table were filled with empty ones in the middle. She followed behind Dharia, hoping that she would end up in a place as isolated as possible.
But as always, luck wasn’t on her side.
A guard came to her elbow and commanded her to follow him. “Come with me.”
Aura shared a stricken expression with Dharia before she was pulled away and taken to the opposite end of the table. An old man in an oversized chair sat at the head, with a handful of others surrounding him.
She heard his voice before she saw him, the rumbling baritone immediately surging through her in a way that left her breathless. When she looked up, her gaze immediately landed on Castor’s expressive face.
He had not yet noticed her standing there, the guard lingering at her side to pull the chair out from the table. She had little choice but to take a seat and that movement finally caught the Prince’s attention.
His eyes rose to meet hers. An electric shock passed between them that crackled through the air in a way that could have been felt by anyone paying the slightest attention. Aura practically fell into the chair as her knees collapsed underneath her. She forced herself to take a deep steadying breath, fighting the urge to pass out.
Castor looked away, appearing unhappy to see her there, and continued his conversation with the woman beside him. Aura realized with a start that the woman was Princess Sirena, who was even more beautiful up close.
And all Aura wanted to do was disappear into thin air and immediately cease to exist.
If the Prince seemed discomfited to have her here and so close. But Aura quickly realized that she had caught the attention of someone else.
King Rolan had to be the oldest living person who Aura had ever seen. His deeply lined face spread in a jovial smile below a head of hair that had gone shockingly white with age. Watery eyes, filmy with cataracts, regarded her over a glass of what she could only assume was wine.
“Well hello there, and who do we have here?” King Rolan leaned closer, squinting his eyes as he appeared to study her face. He thanked the guard, who’d apparently been under his orders to bring her to the hea
d of the table, and waved him away. “I don’t remember seeing you before.”
Castor spoke before she could, tone brooking little argument. “Your memory fails you, father. This one has been with you for some time.”
“My mind is like a steel trap, my boy. And I’ll not hear another word otherwise.” From the smirks on the faces of the nearby guards, it was obvious this statement wasn’t entirely true, but King Rolan appeared not to notice. “What’s your name, sweet mint?”
“Aura.”
“Castor, introduce Aura to our guests.” Rolan gestured at the others seated with them at this end of the table. He picked up a piece of buttered roll and bit into it, sending a cascade of breadcrumbs onto the front of his jacket and on the tablecloth in front of him. “They must get to know the highlight of my harem.”
With an exasperated sigh, Castor nodded to the woman beside him who Aura couldn’t help but note again was achingly beautiful. “This is Princess Sirena of Vigil and her advisor, Faseer. This is their first visit to our sector.”
Aura nodded politely, resisting the urge to stare down at the hands that were clenched in her lap. Sirena gave her a small smile before turning back to Castor, and Aura couldn’t help but wonder if the princess knew the truth about what had occurred between them in the Forbidden Zone. But the expression on Sirena’s face was pleasant, if distant, as if Aura had already been assessed and forgotten.
It was only with the aid of the translation unit that Aura could comprehend the concept of royalty, an understanding of it appearing in her mind as if by magic. The technology that allowed her to understand their language clearly did more than simply translate the words.
Aura couldn’t help but get the impression that Sirena was more of a piece on the game board to be used, rather than the player making true decisions. It made it more difficult to dislike her, even when the Princess reacted to something Castor said with a tinkling laugh and placed a familiar hand on his shoulder.
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