by April Osirus
As he got closer, he could see that her height and curvy figure matched his ward’s. And within a few feet, he could get a whiff of the delightfully fresh floral scent unique to Amara.
He stopped short of reaching her. Why was she trying to escape this marriage meeting? Clearly she wanted to get away as far as possible, judging by the gate she was now trying to hop onto.
Silently sidling up behind her, he breathed in her sweet scent. His heart sped up in rhythm. He wanted to run his hands across her soft skin but stopped himself and crossed his arms across his chest. Instead, he leaned against the wall and cleared his throat, watching the slender shoulders freeze.
“I’m sorry to say I think you are at the wrong gate, Lady Amara,” Loku said calmly.
He watched as the girl slowly turned around on her heel. He expected a blushing face, embarrassed at being caught. But instead he found himself the target of glaring green eyes. Loku didn’t know if he wanted to laugh at her adorable glaring face or be annoyed at her rudeness.
“Listen,” Amara said, “whatever my father is paying you for this job, I’ll double it. If you let me go, as soon as I find myself settled, I will pay you.”
Loku quirked an eyebrow. “And how will you settle yourself? I’m assuming you won’t be relying on your father’s wealth.”
Amara raised her delicate chin in defiance. “I’m not as stupid as my father may make me seem. I will be more than capable in finding work and making my own way.”
Loku stared at her. He believed her. Her eyes shone with burning intelligence and he could tell just by the way she moved that she had a capable body that knew how to do an honest day’s work, despite her noble title.
“I’m sorry to say this, Lady Amara, but Vistrans aren’t known to renege on agreed upon contracts,” Loku said. Wrapping a large hand around her upper arm, he half dragged, half walked her back towards the appropriate gate. He could feel Amara yank against his grip in protest. But it was like a small animal fighting against a steel wall—it was no contest.
“You jerk!” Amara hissed under her breath, not wanting to cause more of a scene than they already were in the port. “You’re just like my father, aren’t you? You just care about how much money something can get you!”
Loku shrugged. “Your father pays handsomely,” he said blandly. But that was far from the case. He could hardly cared what Lord Phillips could pay him. Money didn’t matter. This girl’s safety did. Loku didn’t quite understand it but he knew from the depths of his bones that he couldn’t let this girl out into the universe alone without protection. So whether she liked it or not, going to Soong meant being under his protection and that was what Loku wanted. So Amara was going to Soong.
Amara glared at Loku. “A Vistran mercenary,” she whispered. “I should’ve known they’d have no heart.”
If she only knew how his heart thumped in aching need to protect her and hold her.
But once on the ship, Loku’s heart wasn’t the only thing aching. His hand was aching to whack her across her ample bottom for her frustrating antics.
As they boarded the ship, Amara took advantage of her petite size to slip into the crowd. She was just about to enter a different cabin when Loku caught up to her. Grabbing her by her middle, he carried her under his arm like a piece of very stubborn baggage.
Amara had kicked and cried out in protest but Loku had ignored her and had just carried her with an easy strength into their appropriate cabin. He had tossed her onto one seat and then shut the door of their cabin.
“Let’s try for at least a few hours without hatching an escape plan, shall we?” Loku said, feeling quite frustrated with this girl. Didn’t she know the kinds of people that also flew on ships? It wasn’t just families or people heading on marriage proposal trips. There were also robbers and kidnappers and smugglers. With her beautiful face and arresting figure, Amara would be a kidnapper or smuggler’s dream. She would fetch a guaranteed fortune on the black market as a slave.
Amara glared at him from her seat. But thankfully, she just crossed her arms and sat in huffy silence. Loku took his seat. Although he was thankful for the tightness of the cabin that would prevent Amara from trying anything for the next several hours, he was not stupid. He could see the cogs turning inside her pretty head.
Loku sighed. One thing was for sure: this would not be a boring trip.
***
“You’re late,” Milo Lincoln said as he saw Amara enter the grand living room of the Lincoln mansion.
Amara swallowed. She couldn’t believe she was actually on Soong, let alone the Lincoln mansion. She had really hoped she could lose the Vistran guard. But the giant Vistran was much quicker than she had given him credit for.
“That’s not a welcome,” Lady Lincoln chided gently to her son. But before Amara could think better of her potential mother-in-law, the woman added, “After all, don’t forget she’s the daughter to the Phillip Mines fortune.”
Milo shrugged. “I don’t care whose daughter she is. She’s late.” He raised a thin eyebrow at her. “I don’t appreciate tardiness.”
Amara knew she’d have to regroup and come up with a new plan of escape. Because there was no way in hell she was going to marry Milo Lincoln. “It’s good to see you again, Lord Lincoln,” she said, pointedly trying to remind the man of good etiquette.
But Milo ignored her and stared at the giant muscular man standing in the grand doorway, his head nearly brushing the top of the arched doorway. “Who’s that?” he asked, in a bored disdainful tone.
Amara, who had been resentfully throwing silent mental insults at her Vistran guard, suddenly felt protective over him. She felt protective over anyone Milo Lincoln looked down upon.
“He is my escort,” Amara said, trying to tamp down her frustration and anger towards Milo and her situation. “My father was detained on business and couldn’t accompany me.”
“Hm,” Milo sniffed. Clearly he didn’t appreciate the Vistran in his luxurious mansion. Amara suddenly had the crazy urge to rub the Vistran against every wall of the expensive room so Milo’s perfect mansion would be covered in lowly Vistran scent. That would teach both of them. The ridiculousness of the thought and her anxiety at feeling so trapped made Amara snort.
Milo’s brows nearly touched his hairline at such an unladylike sound.
“And what are you wearing?” he asked, not even trying to hide his judgmental disgust.
Amara had dressed for travel since she had been hoping to escape her guard. Instead of wearing a proper gown, she wore a loose tunic and trousers and had declined time to change once she had arrived at the mansion.
“Well, I have just traveled across space to reach here,” she said, unable to hide her sarcasm.
Lady Lincoln sniffed disapprovingly, showing Amara exactly where her son’s mannerisms came from. “Well, I don’t know what relaxed standards Traxil observes but here in Soong, we do follow a higher standard of decorum.”
“Go and change for dinner,” Milo said, finally dismissing her. “I will see you then.”
Amara sighed and turned around to leave the room.
Outside, she let her shoulders slump forward, feeling the tenseness leave her arms. Being around the Lincolns made every inch of her coil up in anxiety. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to find some measure of calmness within her. She would need all of her wits about her to get out of this situation.
Amara opened her eyes and slowly looked up at the Vistran guard. Loku stood just a few feet from her, his arms crossed against his broad chest as he stared at the closed doors of the grand living room. But instead of a cold look of judgment or indifference that she might’ve found on her father’s face, she saw the unexpected look of indignant rage. She could just tell that his anger was on her behalf.
As if feeling her eyes on him, Loku looked down at her. His face immediately gentled into an expression of understanding and solidity. It was almost like she could read his face: he woul
d be with her during the trip and she could expect him to be on her side.
All the rage and anger she had felt earlier melted away. Tears nearly wetted her lashes as she felt a tumble of gratitude. She had never had someone stand in her corner. But she could tell Loku was on her side. He felt her hurt and was angry on her behalf. That alone was more than anyone had done for her.
“Come,” he finally said, motioning towards the large spiraling staircase. “Your room has been made for you.”
Amara nodded. She was ready for a tiny bit of respite from the Lincolns.
“Thank you,” she whispered, as she climbed the stairs. She knew Loku understood just how thankful she was.
***
As Loku watched Amara’s slim figure slowly go up the grand staircase, he could feel his heart pounding so hard his ribs ached.
He wanted to shake his head and grasp his chest to stop his heart. He couldn’t believe what he was feeling. He wanted to deny it.
But Vistrans were taught from a very young age to always listen your body. Your body never lied and what it felt was as truthful as the sun’s rising or the water’s waves.
And his body wasn’t lying now.
His heart thumped passionately as it recognized the one it desired, the one it needed.
Loku had finally found his mate.
And she was intended for another.
***
Dinner was just as painful as Amara had expected it to be. And to make the matter worse, she was deprived of her one support. Loku had been provided his dinner in the servant’s quarters. The large gleaming dinner table only held the Lincolns and Amara.
“We hear that Lord Phillips has recently acquired more mines on the east colony,” Lord Lincoln said as he took another bite of his succulent dinner.
Amara nodded, feeling hollow and cold. She had no idea how to get off of Soong and the marriage meeting with the Lincolns. But she knew that the hollow ache within her was echoing for something more. She was aching for Loku. She needed her Vistran.
“My, my,” Lady Lincoln said, in a pinched smile. “It seems there is no end to the Phillips fortune. It may soon come to par with the Lincolns.” She gave a horribly nasally laugh as if she had made a clever joke.
Throughout the entire meal, Milo sat silently, pushing food around on his plate. The only thing that seemed to interest him was Amara. He kept staring at her unnervingly throughout dinner. Lord and Lady Lincoln seemed oblivious to their son’s peculiar mannerisms.
Once the meal was over, Amara had hoped to be dismissed but Lord and Lady Lincoln had other ideas.
“Milo, why don’t you take Amara out across the balcony? It has such a lovely view at this time of the evening,” Lord Lincoln said, practically winking at his son. Amara couldn’t believe these people were considered noble.
Milo pushed away from the table and offered his arm to Amara. Seeing no other choice, she took it and followed him out of the dining room.
As soon as they were outside, Amara took a deep breath of the cool night air. She tried not to shiver at being so close to Milo and his thin but wiry body.
They quietly strolled a few steps along the wide balcony, the stars twinkling above them.
“I don’t approve the simpleness of your gown tonight,” Milo said suddenly. “I expect you to wear something more appropriate to my title once we are married. You saw my mother. You saw her respectable attire.”
Amara thought back to Lady Lincoln’s bright satin gown that was covered in lace and bows and looked like an overly decorated confection. She felt suffocated just imagining herself in such a gown.
Amara stopped walking, pulling Milo to a stop next to her.
“Lord Lincoln,” she started, feeling her heart pound beneath her breast, “Milo. You can’t possibly find me suitable for you.” Honesty seemed her only route for escape now. Perhaps Milo would find courage in her honesty. After all, he couldn’t possibly think they suited each other. “Wouldn’t you want to be free to pick a wife who is more to your standards?”
Milo stood silently, his thin face bland of expression. His brow only showed a slight crease as he took in her words. He finally turned to her, looking down his large, slightly beaked, nose.
“Are you saying that you are above my standards?” Milo asked quietly, his voice eerily calm.
Amara’s eyes widened in shock. “No!” she cried out. “Definitely not, milord! I mean to say that I am so below your station. I don’t feel that I am the right—”
“So then you are saying you simply do not like me?” Milo asked, his voice becoming a sharp hiss. His eyes shrank as he glared at her with a venom that made Amara’s blood run cold.
“N-No!” Amara said, unable to stop her voice from quivering a little. Though thinner than Amara, he seemed to possess an unnerving strength and cruelty that frightened her. “I simply meant to—”
Milo’s slap echoed across the balcony.
Amara felt stars explode across her eyes as her head snapped back. Her entire left side of her face began to immediately throb with an ache that brought tears to her eyes.
“I am Lord Milo Kensington Lincoln,” Milo said, a voice seething with anger. “I can have whoever I want, whenever I want.” He slapped her again, making her head spin with pain and dizziness. “And if I choose to have you, I will have you!”
He grabbed the front of her gown, yanking her towards him. Just inches away from his face, Milo glared down at her, “And you will submit. Damn you, you will submit, you bitch!”
He crushed his mouth against her. His tongue slid awkwardly against her mouth, making Amara feel more violated than if he had just kissed her lips. Before breaking their kiss, Milo bit her bottom lip hard, drawing the iron tang of blood.
Releasing her suddenly, he commanded, “Now tell me who is your lord and master.”
Amara felt hot tears rolling down her cheeks. Is this where her fate would lead her? Is this what her life would now become?
Milo lifted his hand threateningly, making Amara cringe. “Tell me!”
Amara just couldn’t bring herself to say the words. Her heart still cried out for freedom, for independence, for love. She just couldn’t give herself over. But before she could say anything, she watched Milo’s arm swing back. She tensed and squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself for the eventual slap.
But instead all she felt was a hard arm around her waist, swinging her around, and a whimpering cry from Milo as his hand struck something other than her face.
Amara opened her eyes and found herself staring at the large, towering back of Loku.
She stared at the broad muscular back in stunned silence before she gathered her wits. She took a step back and stared around the towering Vistran and gasped at what she saw.
With his large hand, Loku easily held Milo by his throat. Lifting the thin man up to his eye level, Loku snarled, “Enjoy striking those smaller than you, do you?”
Milo could only make a gargling strangled noise as he pawed at the Vistran’s thick forearm.
“Loku!” Amara cried out. She could only imagine the danger Loku would be in if anyone were to see how he was treating one of the most powerful sons of Soong.
But Loku didn’t seem to hear her.
Holding Milo firmly by his neck, he said in a low voice, “Why not try someone who is able to properly defend himself for size? Strike me now, Milo Lincoln. Strike me as you did the lady.”
Milo’s face was turning an alarming puce.
“Loku, you must let him go!” Amara cried out. “We’ll be in terrible danger if someone were to see this!” Amara looked up and down the large balcony. So far, they were alone but who knew when a servant might come by. And she could only imagine how quickly guards would be called to arrest Loku. And large though he may be, he couldn’t take on the entire police force of Soong.
Without taking his eyes off the gargling Milo, Loku said, “Did you enter into marriage with this man? Are you engaged?”
It took Amara a m
oment to realize Loku was speaking to her. “No!” she said frantically. “No, we didn’t. Not yet—”
“So I do not have to fight this man for you?” he asked, shaking Milo a little, like a rag doll.
“No!” Amara cried out in surprise. “Definitely not!”
Loku nodded. “Good,” he said. Giving Milo the full benefit of his steely glare, he added, “Consider yourself lucky, you little weasly bastard.” And with that, he threw Milo to the floor.
Milo gasped and coughed, drawing in ragged breaths. “You—You—” he choked. But whatever he had been about to say was lost as Milo’s eyes rolled back and he passed out.
Amara could only stare at Milo’s unconscious form in stunned silence. She jumped when she felt Loku’s large hand against her own.
“Come,” the Vistran said, his voice calm and steady. “We need to leave this planet before the alarms are raised for this man.” The disdain put on the last word was not lost on Amara.
Feeling her heart pound in adrenaline, she breathlessly asked, “Where are we going?”
“Far away from here,” he said, echoing the words of her dreams.
As soon as Amara nodded, Loku took her in hand and quickly led her away. Amara followed the Vistran, feeling her heart pound in excitement and something more…something warm. Something good.
***
“Why did you ask if we were engaged?” Amara asked.
They were in a small inn just a mile away from the port. Loku had looked for the very next ship leaving but the next possible ship wouldn’t be leaving for another two hours.
Considering how far away they had managed to get away from the mansion, Loku felt confident they had the two hours to spare. But wanting to be away from the public in case any alarms were raised, Loku had found them a simple room in a small nearby inn.
Loku turned away from the window and looked down at the small human. He couldn’t believe how quickly his heart had identified its match but with every passing minute, he knew there would be no other possible match than this beautiful, brave, and feisty woman.