Zyen: Science Fiction Romance (Enigma Series Book 10)

by Ditter Kellen

  Zyen didn’t blame Oz for taking the lives of Maria’s father and brother. If it became necessary, Zyen would kill Carmen’s father and brother as well.

  Why must he compare every situation to Carmen? he wondered, clenching his teeth in annoyance. It wasn’t as if she belonged to him. And she never would if he had anything to say about it. That didn’t mean he wasn’t curious about her deep-rooted fears. And she did have them; he’d sensed them more than once, witnessed them in the form of a panic attack.

  The object of his curiosity stepped into his field of vision. She traipsed across the sand holding a bag in her arms.

  Zyen held completely still, watching as she marched barefoot to the cabin next to his and knocked.

  Moving to the other side of the window to get a better look, Zyen noticed the door open and a smiling Brant filling the opening.

  A growl rose in Zyen’s throat the longer Carmen stood there smiling back.

  And then she stepped over the threshold.

  Zyen didn’t think before he reacted. He snatched his own door open, stormed across the sand to Brant’s cabin, and burst inside.

  Five pair of surprised gazes stared back at him without blinking.

  Gryke and Fiona sat on a sofa alongside Brant. Syrina lounged in a chair across from them, while Carmen stood next to a small glass table in the center of the room.

  Syrina spoke first. “Is something amiss?”

  Zyen would have given anything in that moment for a hole to appear in the floor and swallow him up.

  Opening his mouth to respond, Zyen found himself at a loss for words. How was he supposed to explain his sudden entry into Brant’s dwelling? He’d never entered another’s domain without permission.

  A knock on the open door behind him, saving Zyen from having to answer. He stepped to the side, giving Oz enough room to enter.

  “Good news,” Oz announced with relief in his voice. “The Cuban President received the large shipment of Incola vaccines and will begin vaccinations as early as Monday.”

  Cheers went up around the room, with everyone laughing and congratulating one another. But Zyen’s gaze stayed glued to Carmen. He’d never seen her smile before. It transformed her from pretty to beautiful.

  Swallowing hard, Zyen backed quietly from the room and made his way toward his own dwelling.

  “Wait,” Carmen suddenly called out in a small voice.

  Zyen stopped on the second step of his bungalow and turned to face her.

  She came to a halt, her head tilted back and her hand over her eyes to block out the sun. “You never did say what you wanted.”

  “It is not important. I am only glad that Oz will no longer need to fear the Cuban President.”

  Carmen’s eyes squinted beneath her hand. “Are you sure? I mean, the way you ran in there, I was certain that something had happened.”

  “Why were you there?” Zyen found himself asking.

  She shrugged, arranging her hand more firmly against her forehead. “Would you mind so much coming down here? I can barely make out your face in this blinding sun.”

  Zyen jumped to the ground, ignoring Carmen’s gasp of surprise. He gripped her beneath the arms and plopped her up onto the top step. “Is this better?”

  Though he was still a few inches taller than her, he could see that she preferred being on his level.

  “Yes…much better, thank you.”

  Holding her gaze, Zyen persisted. “You did not answer my question.”

  “I was taking Brant his belongings. He’d left them here on his last trip to Playa Pilar.”

  Jealousy crept in. “In Arkadia, the females do not wait on the males. He could have retrieved his own belongings.”

  “I wasn’t waiting on him,” she shot back, her chin lifting defensively. “I was merely being courteous.”

  Zyen wasn’t sure he believed her. Humans were known to be deceitful. He decided to change the subject. “Where are your parents?”

  A shadow passed through her eyes. “I don’t know. My mother disappeared when I was a baby, and I’ve never met my father.”

  “How is it that you survived without your parents?”

  She glanced away. “My grandparents raised me until I left home at sixteen.”

  Confused by her admission, and the air of despondency that surrounded her, Zyen continued. “What prompted you to leave home at such a young age?”

  “What’s with the twenty questions?” she snapped, moving to descend the steps.

  Zyen reached out and caught her by the arm. “You are hiding something.”

  Carmen yanked free of his hold. “Maybe that’s because it’s none of your business.”

  Zyen stood completely still as she reached the sand and stormed off. She was right, it wasn’t his business. Then why did he feel the need to know more about her? His curiosity fairly ate at his insides.

  Instead of returning to his room, Zyen strolled across the beach to the rolling waters of the Gulf. He waded out far enough so the water reached his waist before diving in and swimming toward the deep.

  He didn’t bother with his protective lenses. No, Zyen wanted to experience his surroundings in all its blue-green glory.

  Fish scattered in his peripheral as he swam while crabs traipsed along the bottom, oblivious to his presence. It felt good to be in his element. This he knew. This he could relate to.

  Carmen’s smiling face flashed behind his eyes, unwanted and unwelcome.

  For the life of him, Zyen couldn’t figure out what it was about the tiny human that intrigued him so. Perhaps it was the astronomical differences between her and him. She was the smallest adult female he’d ever encountered. Meanwhile, he happened to be the largest male in Bracadyte history…that he knew of.

  Where her eyes were dark, his were light; her skin brown, his pale. But it was her secretive eyes that kept drawing him in. They were soulful, sad, and harboring feelings she couldn’t seem to hide.

  Zyen could read her emotions through those luminous brown eyes. Everything from her anxiety to her fear.

  It is not my business, his mind whispered as he continued speeding through the Gulf’s depths. She is not my concern.

  Chapter Eight

  Carmen finished her bath and dressed in a comfortable sundress she’d had for years yet never wore. She braided her hair and slipped on a pair of light brown sandals.

  Moving over to the window, she tugged the curtain back to gaze at the huge silver moon, reflecting off the Gulf waters. It had grown dark out, and there’d been no sign of Zyen.

  Carmen had watched him disappear beneath the waves earlier that day. She’d also noticed the stiff set of his shoulders as he’d trekked across the beach away from her. He was angry with her. That much she knew.

  It was no secret that Bracadytes were very perceptive. Hell, Carmen knew that from being around Oz for so long. She’d also been subjected to Kaspyn’s mental invasion.

  Carmen wondered how far Kaspyn had seen into her past, the punishments, whippings, and the hours spent on her knees. But most importantly, she wondered if the Arkadian princess had seen the attack that had happened in a back alley in Moron where Carmen’s life had been forever changed.

  Straightening away from the window, Carmen moved to the front door and stepped outside.

  With her cabin situated behind Oz and Maria’s house, Carmen could see the backside of the bungalows that lined the beach. A light suddenly came on inside Zyen’s dwelling.

  She owed him an apology, she told herself, her feet already carrying her in his direction. He hadn’t deserved the way she’d reacted to his questions. There had been genuine concern swimming in his eyes.

  Carmen found herself on his front porch a minute later, her hand poised to knock.

  The door abruptly opened, startling her. She instinctively backed up a step. “Jesus! You scared me.”

  “If I frighten you so, why is it that you are here? I sensed your anxiety before you stepped onto the porch.”


  Carmen nervously glanced around before meeting his gaze once more. She immediately questioned her sanity for going back to Zyen’s bungalow. “I came to apologize for my earlier rudeness. It’s just that your size intimidates me.”

  There, she’d said it. She turned to go.

  “Wait.”

  Stopping on the top step, Carmen stiffened at the sound of him coming up behind her. Though he didn’t touch her, she could feel the heat from his body, knew that he stood mere inches from her.

  “It is no secret that I hold little regard for the land walker.” His voice came from high above her, adding to her anxiety. “With that being said,” he continued in that same low, deep rumble, “I have come to realize that all humans are not the same. And for some reason, I am not comfortable with the knowledge that you are frightened of me.”

  Carmen stared out at the crashing waves of the Gulf. “Men in general make me nervous, Zyen. You just happen to be twice the size of the average man.”

  “I am not a man…”

  Gathering her courage, Carmen slowly turned to face him, her head tilted back to see into his eyes. He really was beautiful, she noticed, studying the sincerity in his gaze. “Would you like to have dinner with me?”

  Where the hell had that come from? she wondered, surprised at herself. Having dinner with him meant that she’d be alone with him, trapped inside the confines of her small cabin.

  His eyebrows lifted. “You want to feed me?”

  Carmen cleared her throat, suddenly embarrassed. “I just thought…”

  “You thought what?”

  “Nothing.” She spun on her heel, and hurried down the steps.

  “What time should I arrive for the meal?”

  Zyen’s words stopped her in her tracks. There would be no way of getting out of dinner without appearing rude. She had, after all, invited him to begin with.

  Looking over her shoulder, she murmured, “Give me an hour. I live in the cabin behind Oz and Maria.”

  “I will be there.” He turned and disappeared inside his bungalow.

  Carmen rushed home, her heart in her throat. She’d invited Zyen to have dinner with her. What had she been thinking? But she’d opened her mouth and spoke the words, it was too late to back out now.

  Once inside the safety of her cabin, Carmen entered the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. She had no idea what a Bracadyte ate besides raw fish, and there was no time to run out and catch him one.

  Snatching up a head of lettuce, she snagged a tomato, along with a few other items and made a large salad. Next, she opened the freezer and grabbed a pack of ground chuck before popping it into the microwave to thaw.

  Once that was done, she opened the pantry, took out a box of pasta, and then plucked up another for good measure. She had no idea how much the giant Arkadian could eat.

  Forty-five minutes later, she had a huge pot of spaghetti simmering on the stove.

  “Bread,” she muttered to herself, taking out a loaf of garlic bread from the freezer and placing it on a rack in the center of the oven before turning it on.

  Carmen glanced at the clock on the wall. Zyen would be there in less than ten minutes.

  A knock sounded on the door, giving her a start. Zyen must have arrived early.

  Trailing off into the quaint living room, Carmen gripped the knob and opened the door. But it wasn’t Zyen standing on her porch. “Hello, Mr. Henagar.”

  “Please, call me Brant.”

  “Very well, Brant. Can I help you with something?”

  Brant’s smile was friendly, as were his eyes. “Maria sent me to get you. She said dinner would be ready in twenty minutes.”

  Carmen wondered why Maria had sent Brant instead of just calling her. “I’m having dinner at home. But please tell her that I appreciate the offer.”

  “If you’re sure,” Brant remarked, lingering on the porch.

  Suspicion grew the longer Brant stood there. “Maria didn’t really send you, did she?”

  Brant ran a hand down his face. “No, she didn’t. Look, I know that you have become somewhat close with the Arkadian, but—”

  “My friendship with Zyen is really none of your business, Mr. Henagar.”

  “I realize that, and I’m sorry for showing up like this. But Gryke feels that Zyen is dangerous, and it’s probably best if you steer clear of him.”

  Carmen’s heart began to pound. Did the entire island know that she’d invited Zyen to dinner? “Then why are you here instead of Gryke?”

  “Because he’s mated to my sister, and Fiona thinks he’s being overly paranoid.”

  “Fiona’s right. I appreciate your concern for my safety, but I honestly don’t feel that Zyen is a threat. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

  Brant’s gaze softened. “I’m sorry for interfering. Just know that, if you need me, I’ll be nearby.”

  “She will not need you,” Zyen growled, stepping into the light of the porch. He took the steps in a calculated manner, his muscles tight and his eyes narrowed. “If anyone should fear me, it is you.”

  Brant turned to face the giant. Though Zyen stood a good foot taller than him, Brant didn’t back down. “I don’t fear shit, big guy. And I meant what I said. If she sustains so much as a scratch from you, I’ll put a bullet between your eyes.”

  “You do not scare me with your cowardly human weapons,” Zyen snarled.

  Carmen rushed out onto the porch, inserting herself between the two large males. “That’s enough. Brant, please go. Like I said, I’ll be fine.”

  Brant stood there for long moments before sauntering from the porch. “Remember what I said.”

  It took Carmen a moment to realize that she’d placed herself in a position she’d normally avoided at all costs. And she hadn’t batted an eye.

  Chapter Nine

  Zyen wanted to go after the arrogant Brant and show him just exactly how dangerous he could be.

  Rage had slammed into Zyen the moment he’d arrived at Carmen’s to find Brant standing on her porch warning her off about him. And apparently, he’d been sent by Gryke.

  “Don’t worry about him,” Carmen was saying, bringing Zyen’s attention down to her upturned face. “He was only the messenger.”

  Zyen should point out that he neither feared Brant nor Gryke, but the look in Carmen’s eyes stopped him. “As you wish.”

  “I hope you’re hungry. I made a number two washtub full of spaghetti.” She stepped around him and trailed back inside.

  Zyen followed suit, ducking to keep his head from slamming into the top of the door frame. In fact, he had to bend slightly once inside to prevent a catastrophe with the lights in the ceiling. “What is a number two washtub?”

  A chuckle escaped his tiny host, and Zyen found that he liked it. “It’s nothing important. I only meant that I made a lot.”

  “I had the human’s spaghetti the last time I traveled to Cuba. I rather enjoyed it.”

  Carmen’s shoulders visibly relaxed. “I’m glad. Have a seat, and I’ll make our plates.”

  Zyen sat at the small round table situated in the corner of her kitchen, and watched her busy herself around the stove. She was so short, she had to stand on tip toes to stir the spaghetti.

  A rush of protectiveness suddenly traveled through him to slam into the pit of his stomach. The feeling felt foreign and unnatural. He wanted to jump up from that table and flee, but she turned to face him and her next words stopped him cold. “You are the first man I have ever had in my cabin.”

  “I am not a man.”

  “You keep saying that.” She moved across the room and set his plate in front of him along with a glass of brown liquid.

  “It’s sweet tea,” she pointed out, the longer he studied the contents of the glass.

  Zyen took a hesitant sip and his eyes nearly rolled back in bliss. He found that he loved this thing known as sweet tea.

  Once Carmen took a seat with her own food, Zyen dug into his. “I had not realized, until recently, how t
asty the human food is. Bracadytes are not taught to enjoy food. It is more of a means to an end. A fuel to keep our bodies strong.”

  Carmen blinked. “You sound like my grandfather.”

  Lowering his fork, Zyen studied Carmen’s face, hoping to gain some insight into her past. “You mentioned before that your grandparents raised you.”

  She blew out a breath and lowered her gaze. Zyen half-expected her to bound from the table, but she merely sat there in silence.

  He opened his mouth to change the subject, but she suddenly spoke. “My grandparents were fanatics.” Lifting her gaze, she twirled her fork in her plate of spaghetti and continued in a hesitant tone. “It became painfully obvious, at an early age, that they loved their religion more than they loved me.”

  Zyen couldn’t imagine a Bracadyte family not putting their children first in everything. “When you say religion, you refer to your human God?”

  Carmen nodded. “You have your Christians, and then you have your fanatics. Fanatics believe that punishment pleases God, where Christians are about love.”

  “It makes no sense,” Zyen remarked, hoping to keep her talking.

  Carmen took a sip of her tea before answering. “It really doesn’t. Did you know that there are over four thousand religions in the world today? And only one God. Go figure.”

  “Humans are a peculiar lot,” Zyen took another bite of his spaghetti. “And what of you? What do you believe in?”

  Carmen shrugged. “I believe there is a God who created the universe and all that lives within it. What I don’t believe, is that he sits on high, demanding that children be abused in his name.”

  Zyen’s breathing slowed to a crawl. “Your grandparents abused you?”

  “You could say that. Would you like more spaghetti?”

  “I can get it,” Zyen protested as she jumped to her feet and grabbed his near empty plate.

  Carmen brushed his hands aside and took his plate to the stove to refill it.

  “What kind of abuse?” he questioned in a soft voice, anger gnawing at his gut.

  Her shoulders stiffened. “I really don’t want to talk about my horrible childhood. Tell me a little about you.”