Rescued by the Alien Prince: Celestial Mates (The Alva)

by Miranda Martn

  I frown at that. It seems as if his people may not know Malathin's most recent transgression.

  "We were lenient," I finally say. "After your Prince's latest attack, we can no longer afford to be so."

  The other guards look at each other but the one speaking keeps his sharp eyes on us. Not one to be taken as a fool, that one.

  "What attack?" he finally asks, after his people quiet somewhat.

  "Prince Malathin has taken my Pari," I say grimly, watching the guard's face which tightens at the news. Perhaps he is acting to stall, or perhaps they really to not know.

  He gestures one of the guards over and says something to him, his head close to the other male's ears. I watch as the other guard disappears, taking two more with him.

  "I will deliver Prince Malathin to you," the head guard announces, turning back. "And we will begin a search of the House to look for your Pari. I have not seen a human female enter our boundary walls, but it is possible she was hidden."

  I look over at Drevakin and Elorshin, ready on either side of me.

  "Unhappy people are not loyal people," Drevakin offers, one of his eyebrows quirked.

  "Yes, but this is unheard of," Elorshin argues.

  "Waiting to see if they do deliver their erstwhile Prince cannot hurt. It is much more efficient than storming the walls, with far less risk of casualties," I say to them in a low voice.

  They murmur their agreement at that.

  So we wait.

  As always, it is the waiting which is the most difficult, but we do not stand idle for long. The sounds of a struggle drawing nearer are clear in the tense silence.

  "Open the gates for them," the head guard orders, eyes still on me.

  The gates open, just wide enough for three guards to exit with Malathin held forcefully between them.

  "Let me go, you honorless sons of devos!" he screams, his hair in disarray, his clothing ripped, and what looks like a bruise forming high on one cheek.

  "Highly unusual turn of events," Drevakin murmurs sardonically.

  The guards shove Malathin towards us and retreat back to the gates. Eyes on my opponent, I step down from the carriage. Anger is ice in my veins as I stalk towards him.

  As I near, Malathin gets to his feet, his eyes narrowed, his hand going to his sword hilt.

  "No," I growl, my hand darting out to grip his wrist in an immovable hold, halting the attempt.

  He sneers.

  My fist connects with his face in a painful, satisfying crunch.

  He falls, but I keep him on his knees with a hand clenched in his tunic.

  "Where is Ling?" I ask, my voice low and calm. I will do whatever it takes, even if it means taking Malathin apart piece by piece with my bare hands.

  He meets my eyes, his mouth bleeding, and then he smiles, showing blood covered fangs.

  "She is likely already dead," he spits. And then he laughs.

  I slide my knife out, flipping it and stab it into his thigh in one smooth move. He screams, jerking in my hold, his hands scrabbling for his own weapons. I step in behind him, wrapping my arm around his throat. His hands grip my forearm tightly as he chokes, his nails trying to dig in. I stare at his face dispassionately, waiting until it seems as if he may sink into unconsciousness. Then I ease back on the pressure.

  If Ling has not been found by the guards yet, I do not have high hopes they will find her. If she is even here. I am starting to suspect she may not be.

  "Where is Ling?" I ask again, my mouth close to his ear. "I can inflict pain for a very long time. I may even enjoy it considering what you have done." I drag him down to the ground and brace my knees on him, holding him down.

  Ripping my knife from his flesh, his cry echoes in the silence. I bring the blade, already dripping with his own blood, to the coward's neck. His eyes roll as he watches the blade near his skin.

  Ah. So he has some sense of self-preservation left.

  "I already told you," he says, fear in his voice now. It should be satisfying, but I am wasting time that I could be using to reach Ling. "She is most likely dead. Orders were to kill her if you did not step down within a certain time period."

  I resist the urge to slit his throat, to kill this weak, pathetic creature.

  "I am going to ask once more," I say coldly, letting the blade just break his skin. "Where. Is. Ling?"

  His breath comes in pants now, the fight truly leaving him as his blood continues to spill. "House Caffaar," he finally spits out. "House Caffaar."

  I pull my knife back, slowly using his tunic to wipe my blade as I watch his face. He is still underneath me, expecting another attack, but I stand and step back. He has nowhere to go. If his own people do not finish him, it is likely the devos will.

  Dealing the deathblow will only shorten his misery.

  I deliberately turn my back on what remains of Prince Malathin of House Saren. Drevakin and Elorshin watch with unreadable expressions, but some of the men’s gazes are tinged with fear.

  They are right to be afraid.

  If Ling is dead, I have nothing left.

  And a male with nothing left to fight for is a dangerous animal indeed.

  "We ride to House Caffaar," I say into the ringing silence.

  Nobody gainsays me.

  Climbing onto my carriage, I urge the juntta forward in the hushed silence.

  I will find Ling.

  There is no other option.

  19

  Ling

  I stay quiet in the crate, hoping we make it through the tunnel and out of the cavern. My body sways with the movement of the carriage and I try to think of anything but how much the sides of the crate seem to be closing in on me.

  Just a little longer.

  I take deep breaths as we continue for what seems like forever, but could have only been a few minutes. I know my sense of time must be off.

  Finally, the motion stops. The carriage sways and then the door opens, the lid on my crate scrapes as it’s removed. The tarp finally peels back.

  "Are you well?" the man asks, his face concerned.

  I sit up and take a deep breath, my heartbeat calming a little now that I’m not so trapped. The relatively cool breeze on my face is very welcome.

  "Yes. Yes, I am, thank you," I reply. "Really. I’m very grateful for your help."

  He waves the thanks away, helping me climb out of the crate and step outside. "Prince Franean is not a trustworthy male," he says once I'm on my feet. "Is there somewhere you can go?" he asks. "If not, I am certain—"

  "Yes, there is," I interrupt him. "House Viir. My Pari is there. If it isn’t too much trouble, do you think you could take me there?"

  He gives a sharp nod. "Yes, of course. I—"

  His head snaps in another direction, his entire demeanor changing.

  My heart skips a beat. Are they coming after us?

  "What is it?" I ask, looking over in the direction his head is turned but not seeing anything.

  "Get into the carriage and hide," he says, stepping back from the open door.

  "What—"

  "Now!" he barks, pushing me inside and pulling his sword out.

  I climb into the carriage and close the door, sitting in the corner on the floor. There’s nowhere else to hide, but I am not getting back into that crate. I still don't hear anything, which is weird. Maybe he was mistaken about whatever it was.

  A tremble in the ground shakes the carriage.

  And then another.

  And another.

  Footsteps.

  Really big ones.

  My throat clicks as I swallow. What could be big enough to do that?

  I slowly rise up just enough to look out the small window. A shrieking roar tears through the quiet, loud enough and deep enough my stomach clenches and I nearly piss myself.

  Breath catching, I get a glimpse of whatever it is.

  It's...enormous with a scaly, glistening hide and patches of rough hair. Its face is oddly shaped, camouflaging any eyes it may or
may not have. Its twisted snout opens to reveal yellow, over-sized teeth.

  My rescuer stands only feet away, a sword in one hand and a knife in the other, looking like a toddler in comparison to the...thing. He glances over and sees me looking.

  "Get down! Hide!" he yells, before turning and running at the monster, his face grim.

  How can he possibly stand against that thing?

  I crouch down again, the urge to run strong, but there's nowhere to go.

  I have no way to help so I sit and wait, hoping and praying some miracle saves him. Utter uselessness and panic threatens drown me in gibbering madness. I listen to his shouts and the creature’s screaming roars, the ground trembling harder as it moves closer and faster. A pained, angry growl is high pitched enough that I slap my hands over my ears in defense.

  And then my rescuer screams. A wet ripping sound and the crunch of something hard cracking follows.

  I didn't even get his name.

  Overwhelmed, I turn to the side and heave, acidic bile forcing it’s way out of my terrified stomach. Knowing my retching could bring the beast’s attention, I struggle to quiet even my breathing. The creature might be able to hear my heart beat, it's pounding so hard in my head.

  The ground trembles again.

  And again.

  It's coming closer.

  The carriage rocks once and then again, harder, falling back onto its wheels with a groaning sound. The monster is trying to tip it over. I bite my lip until it bleeds, trying not to make a sound as it shoves the side of the carriage with even more force. I try to brace myself, but there isn't really anything to hold on to as the vehicle flips.

  I gasp in a breath.

  My body hits the roof and then the floor, the crate tumbling against me as up becomes down. I don't know how many times the carriage rolls end over end, my body a rag doll tumbling inside, but it eventually comes to a stop, the crate pinning my legs.

  I don't make a sound as tears stream down my face, my hands clenched into tight fists against my mouth to stop my screams.

  Is it still there?

  A breath huffs and the carriage slides a little, like the thing gave it a nudge.

  I hold my breath. A few seconds later, there’s the tremble of its footsteps.

  One.

  Two.

  Three.

  They're getting fainter. It's walking away. I lie still, listening until I don't hear anything. And then I do it some more, straining to catch any stray sound, wondering if it's going to come back.

  After maybe fifteen minutes, I finally try to move, my body one big bruise. I groan trying to move the crate pinning me. It's slow going, but eventually it moves an inch. Catching my breath, I shift it a little more. Slowly, I manage to shift it enough that I can pull my legs out.

  I run my hands over them. They’re fine. I have numerous aches and pains, but nothing seems broken. Turning over to my hands and knees, I crawl out of the distorted window, my hips scraping against the sides as I shove myself through.

  Once out, I stand slowly, scanning the area in case the nightmarish monster is still lying in wait.

  Nothing. I’m too exposed without the flimsy cage of the carriage.

  I turn around, wondering where the juntta went. I need some way to keep moving. There’s something on the ground maybe fifty yards away.

  Swallowing, I walk over, limping a little. I stop, not making it all the way over as I swallow bile. The juntta is just a pile of blood and gore now, mostly eaten.

  I look around, bracing myself to find my rescuer in the same condition but there’s no sign of him.

  I stand motionless, mind blank for I don’t know how long.

  Shock.

  I must be in shock.

  I need to move. I can't just stand here. Frowning, I look around, feeling lost in more ways than one. I think I know where we are. We passed through this section on the way to House Caffaar. Which means House Viir has to be to the right.

  Maybe.

  I don't have any juntta, but I have legs that are somehow still functioning. Turning in what I hope is the correct direction, I force myself to put one foot in front of the other. I don't have the luxury of wallowing so I walk.

  I walk for hours until every ache and pain in my body makes itself known. Until the shock wears off and it seems like there’s danger around every corner. Until my stomach grumbles with hunger, my throat clicking dryly as I swallow.

  I want to stop, rest, but this isn't a safe place. I need to keep walking.

  I fall into a kind of trance, the sameness of the rock and caverns around me blending as I focus on simply putting one foot in front of the other. I just need to keep moving. Nothing seems quite real.

  So when something different happens, I don't pay it any attention at first. It takes me a moment to realize a new sound is nearby.

  Freezing, I cock my head. What if it's that thing?

  But then the familiar clicking of juntta legs and carriage wheels approaches. Someone is coming.

  Potentially just as dangerous as the monster. I look around frantically for a place to hide.

  There. A narrow tunnel.

  I run over to it, adrenaline numbing me enough to move quickly. Ducking inside, I hide behind a large rock, peeking around to stare out at the path.

  I frown as emotions thaw the numbness of my mind. Sharp emotions, not wrapped in cotton, squeezing through the veil of exhaustion. Desperation, anguish, frustration, anger.

  A flicker of hope that seems to be...fading?

  I step farther out from behind the rock, knowing it's a stupid thing to do, but...

  A carriage rolls through my field of vision, the juntta moving at a fast clip. A tall, muscular man is sitting in the front, his competent hands holding the reins.

  I stare as he turns his head.

  Glittering golden eyes.

  A worried, achingly handsome face.

  Is he real? Am I hallucinating?

  "Naefaren," I whisper through chapped lips.

  20

  Naefaren

  I lead the way, pushing the juntta as much as I can without overtiring it. I cannot help but dwell on the time wasted going to House Saren. The idea that I am too late, that Ling may already be...

  No. I refuse to think that. She is alive and I will find her.

  I push the juntta just a little harder.

  I turn as we enter the cavern that leads down to House Caffaar, Elorshin and Drevakin just behind, the other Princes leading their own forces.

  I am scanning the area as is habit, the dangers that lurk in these caverns nothing to trifle with, when something catches my eye. It is not a rock or an uneven section of the path.

  What is it?

  As we draw nearer, I smell the unmistakable scent of blood and gore. Of death. Heart beating faster, I bring the carriage to a halt a small distance away from the scene, taking it in.

  The bloody remains of a juntta and a broken carriage some distance away, roof side down. If it began where the juntta is, it traveled some distance, most likely rolling.

  Pushed by something large.

  I climb down from the carriage, taking in the marks on the juntta skeleton and the large dent in the side of the carriage. The only creature large enough to do such damage is a mooli.

  My mouth is dry, my heart beats faster.

  This is a road one would take from Caffaar to Viir. If Ling managed to escape, she would have taken this path. Hardly breathing, I crouch down next to the carriage and look inside, bracing myself for whatever I might see.

  It is dim. I can make out a crate of some kind, but it is obscuring my vision. I need to go inside.Forcing the door open, I crawl inside as Drevakin and Elorshin speak in low voices behind me.

  "Mooli."

  "Yes."

  "Do you think...?"

  "Perhaps."

  I ignore them, digging through the debris, obviously wares that had been taken to market to sell. I search the carriage from top to bottom.

>   Nothing.

  If anyone was here, they either were well enough to walk away, or... I shut down that line of thought as I crawl back out from the enclosed space.

  "Anything?" Drevakin asks, scanning the area, making certain the beast does not reappear and surprise us.

  "No," I say grimly, leaving my fears unspoken. "Let us keep going."

  If Ling was in that carriage... There is nothing I can do but continue on to House Caffaar. Neither Drevakin nor Elorshin say anything, simply nodding and climbing back onto their carriages.

  As I urge the juntta forward once again, I deliberately keep to a slower pace, my eyes scanning our path and the surroundings as we travel. There is a small possibility that Ling is on this path.

  We travel for quite some time and I find nothing. This is far to go on foot. I do not know why I believe Ling may have been in that carriage, but I cannot shake the thought that she was. I start to lose hope once again as we travel even farther with no sign of anyone.

  Perhaps I am mistaken.

  Fear.

  Disbelief.

  A hesitant relief, beginning to blossom.

  I frown, feeling...

  My head snaps up and to the right, as if my body knows exactly where to look without any conscious thought.

  My eyes collide with familiar dark ones.

  I do not remember bringing the carriage to a halt.

  Or leaping from it.

  I am in front of Ling, gathering her slight body against mine, breathing in her scent, her heart beating against my chest.

  "Ling," I say hoarsely. "Ling."

  She makes a sound, her arms and legs wrapping around me tightly as she clings.

  "Naefaren..."

  "Are you hurt?" I demand, leaning back so I can search her dirt smeared face. There is a bruise blossoming along her jaw on one side. "Were you in that carriage?"

  She nods, her eyes beginning to water. "There was a male...he helped me get out of House Caffaar. But then there was a..."

  She shakes her head, ducking her head in against the side of my neck and I hold her close, rubbing her back. Relief and joy combine in a cooling wave inside me, banking my rage for the time being. I blink back my own tears as I sit on the ground, not caring who sees or what they think. I need a moment to just hold Ling. To just hold my Pari.