by Desiree Hunt
He’d make you happier than Volex. So what that you’d never love him as much. Love in misery is just misery.
I shake my head as if to dislodge the thoughts.
What am I saying? I have a life at home. I’m going home to Earth. I have worked too hard to just walk away… even for love.
My eyes steal away to where Volex is standing but then he’s lost to me again as Brokk twirls me around the floor. As I turn, each time I get the chance, I look in Volex’s direction. My mouth gapes open with a small squeak and I actually lift a hand from Brokk’s powerful shoulder to reach in Volex’s direction when I see a woman storming toward Volex. The woman is tiny, but everything about how she walks has my eyes searching for the glint of a blade ready to slide into Volex’s side.
Brokk turns me, and I lose my line of sight. I turn again and the tiny woman has a hand wrapped around one of Volex’s horns, then she is in the process of climbing up his body by lodging her feet against his thighs.
I lose my line of sight again and when I get it back, the tiny woman is slapping Volex right across the face! His hands are on her waist, and he’s trying to pry her off.
The sight of her attacking him makes me want to rip her to shreds. I’m not talking metaphorically here, folks. I want her in pieces, her blood spreading in an ever widening pool on the pristine and beautiful floor. I want to stand over her body, stab her in the eyes with my fingernails, and rip out her eyeballs.
The vehemence of my desire to do her harm—a lot of harm—unnerves me, but I spin again and lose sight of them.
My gaze slides past Ivar, and he is doubled over laughing so hard that he’s leaning his shoulder into a large pillar for support.
I turn. I lose sight of Ivar, but my gaze whips around to capture Volex again. This time he has the tiny woman lifted away from his body and held up to resemble superman flying, but she’s got a horn in each hand, holding on for dear life with her face pulled up so that it is only inches away from his. I can’t tell what she’s saying, but she’s mad. She is woman-scorned mad.
Oh God. They’re a couple!
Shock rushes through me and leaves me in a cold sweat.
“What has you looking as if a weevil has been placed upon your grave, my dear?” Brokk asks, and it takes all of my effort to focus my attention on him.
Information. I need it. Time for some reconnoissance.
“I was just noticing that woman attacking Prince Volex.” I do my best to sound only mildly interested, but the truth is that my heart is threatening to break through my rib cage. It’s beating so hard and so fast that I feel like I’m not getting in enough air. Yet, I smile sweetly, trying to look relaxed instead of tortured.
Brokk’s laugh comes from somewhere deep within him and vibrates all the way through me. Suddenly, I’m not faking trying to relax. Even with the pain of having my heart shredded inside my chest, this man makes me feel as if I could be okay.
“That’s Rekaia,” Brokk says with good-natured humor. “Rumor has it that she is Prince Volex’s betrothed. Whatever he’s done, I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes right now. Rekaia is a hellbeast at the best of times. The heartiest of men would be lucky to survive her rage.”
I heard the words Brokk spoke after “betrothed,” but the gears of my brain have seized up and refuse to process them. My stomach now turns and twists, and for a moment I think I might be sick on the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen in my life—let alone worn.
“He’s engaged?” I squeak, my eyes large.
“Oh! Dear! Are you okay? Come, let me get some drink in you.”
I thought that Brokk would pull me along after him or possibly walk next to me and insist I lean on him, but instead I find myself scooped up into his massive arms and carried across the dance floor. Just as Volex had done, Brokk carries me with the ease of carrying a tulip. It is like I weigh nothing to him, and his body is rock solid and stable beneath me.
My mind flashes to earlier that very day when my cradled carrying had resulted in showing all the world my fanny, but I can’t feel any waft of cool air now. Instead, I felt heat. Looking up at Brokk, I again think, why can’t I love him?
It would be so much easier and, without giving it any thought, I close my eyes and rest my forehead against Brokk’s collarbone and let myself escape from the world for just a moment.
“Come, dear. Drink this,” Brokk encourages after gently lowering my feet to the ground. Picking up a crystal goblet, he offers me a purple drink that shimmers with what looks to my eyes like silver glitter.
With uncertain eyes on him, I hold the goblet in a shaking hand and bring it to my nose for a sniff. Warm scents similar to vanilla, honey, cardamom, orange and clove tease at me. I close my eyes and breath in deep, letting the spiced drink be a balm on my frayed nerves.
Taking a sip, I’m not disappointed. As soon as the wine reaches my stomach, warmth spreads through my body. Yet, the tiny glittering pieces have a cooling effect to contrast the warmth. It’s distracting and wonderful, and I feel my shoulders drop two inches as I let go of my stress.
Opening my eyes, I feel like they’re shimmering. Glancing down at my arm, I suck in a happy breath at seeing a gentle glow.
“Stunning,” Brokk says, gazing down at me with swooning eyes. “The most beautiful woman here by far.” Taking my hand in his, he lifts it to his lips and kisses it. Then, standing, he gives me a more somber look. “Now, tell me, what had you so upset a moment ago.”
I take a breath, trying to work out what to say, and my eyes steal a glance in Volex’s direction.
“Oh… I see.” Brokk says, crossing his hands over his middle as he looks in Volex’s direction as well.
“I, uh, didn’t know he was engaged.”
“Hmph, engaged… well, I’m not sure I’d call it that.”
My brow furrows, and I let him lead me over to a couple of nearby seats. Everyone is mingling, dancing, and talking amongst themselves, so even though we are in the middle of a formal ball, I feel as if Brokk and I have a moment of privacy.
“I don’t understand,” I say, taking the chair he offers and then crossing my legs. The slit of my gown shows off my now-glowing creamy brown skin all the way up to my hip, but I don’t mind. I don’t feel over-exposed or flashy. I just feel good. Glancing at the wine with an appreciative smile, I take another sip and then moan softly with pleasure.
Brokk moves a chair next to me and sits down. “Well, Rekaia is Volex’s betrothed and, if my information is correct, they have been betrothed to each other since the time that they were young children.”
Poor Volex! Doesn’t he have a choice? No wonder he went to Celestial Mates. Then it occurred to me, by going to Celestial Mates, Volex put the choosing of who he would be matched with in somebody else’s hands all over again.
Feeling my emotions begin to withdraw from him, I look with sadness in Volex’s direction. I’m just a bandaid. A continuation of a habit. He’s never made a decision about his future. He’s not in charge of his life. He lets everyone else drive.
I couldn’t have that. My grandmother might have raised me, but she raised me to be an independent woman in body and mind. I’m not beholden to anybody, and I sure as hell won’t let someone else determine my fate. Not Volex, not Celestial Mates, and not Volex’s insanely scary mother. No one.
I’ve got to get back home. This time there is sadness attached to the thought. This is an amazing place to be, and I have the chance to have an amazingly life full of amazing experiences, but if I can’t be the one in charge of the direction my life goes, then I have to go home. There, succeed or fail, it’s all on my shoulders—and I’ll be able to track every experience of my life back to some decision I’ve made.
I won’t give that freedom up. Not for anyone.
“Brokk,” I say as I lean toward him, “I have a problem and I need help.”
Brokk’s expression shifts. The good-natured man I’ve been dancing with disappears to be replaced with someone who
could rip down castle walls with his bare hands. “Anything, my lady.”
“I was kidnapped and brought here against my will. I was taken from my own home on my own world and brought here without my permission, and I’ve been having trouble finding someone to help me get back home.” I reach across and slide my hand over the back of Brokk’s hand. “I want to go home, Brokk,” I say as my voice breaks. “Will you help me?”
“My lady, I would destroy planets to help you.”
And I believe him… literally.
Chapter 14
Aisha
I’ve given Brokk all of the information I have about Earth. Everything I could think of. When done, he’d nodded gravely and said something about having some connections to the Dark Army—whatever that meant. Then he left the ball in order to reach out to his contacts in hopes of finding Earth, leaving me here at the ball with one final chance to say goodbye to Volex.
And, I do want to say goodbye. As messed up as all of this is, I know that my heart will never stop calling for Volex. I know that I’ll never stop wanting him. But, I can’t stay. If I want a life that is mine instead of everybody else’s, then I have to go.
Skirting the edge of the ball’s festivities, walking alone, I feel vulnerable for the first time since the evening began. The men look at me with a mix of desire and something more… Maneuvering, I realize. They’re wondering how being connected to me can work to their advantage, though it’s not a look that I saw in Brokk’s eyes—or Volex’s.
In contrast to the men’s looks of mixed desire, the women look at me with open contempt and derision. While the Queen had been at my side earlier in the evening, the women had interacted with me with smiles and pleasantries, but now my back is tingling in anticipation of the tip of a sharp knife being pushed into it at any second.
Unnerved, I do not feel safe walking alone, but I need to find Volex. I need to say goodbye. I have to. I can live with the years to come without him if I say my goodbyes. I can carry them with me to feel him close.
When I finally spot Volex, my heart sinks. He’s on the dance floor with a triumphant looking Rekaia in his arms.
He could never want me, I think, watching them from an out-of-the-way spot near the wall. She’s the picture of dainty perfection in his arms. She’s almost as regal as the Queen. Most of the girls at the ball are trying to look regal—but it shows. They are trying. Regal is not what they are, it’s an attitude they’ve wrapped themselves in for the night. But, Rekaia, she’s got it. She is royalty.
I’m just the girl who’s able to palm a basketball and make hoop shot from half court.
I’m the girl none of the guys would ask to the prom because they didn’t want their prom photo taken with a girl taller than them.
I am the girl who doesn’t fit in—not here and not at home. But, I’m going home anyway. After all, it is home.
From all the way on the dance floor with dozens of dancing couples between us, Volex’s gaze locks with mine, and my heart skips a beat.
Volex… My heart cries out, and I want to reach for him. Even my eyes start to burn, but I blink several times and force the tears away.
How can I be so messed up over him! We just met! I can’t love him. Not yet. It’s too soon. It’s just infatuation. It’s chemical. Nothing more. It will wear off. The words are like a promise to myself, but I don’t believe them.
Just when I think that I have my teary eyes under control, Volex turns his back on me and walks away from me with a guiding hand intimately on the beautiful Rekaia’s lower back. It’s a touch of familiarity. It’s the touch of a lover.
Oh God. I close my eyes and let a tear fall down my cheek. Hold on. Just a little bit longer. Brokk will be back soon.
Opening my eyes, I gaze out at the floor through a tear-prism view and gasp. Blinking fast, I take a staggered breath as my heart leaps in joy and hope. Volex is heading right for me… and he’s alone.
Everything about him is intense. His muscles are bulged, his jaw is tight, and his eyes are like black fire. He’s moves like a titan intent on one thing and one thing only—me.
When he gets within ten feet of me, I stumble backward a little bit, overcome with emotion. Yet, nothing about him wavers. It’s as if nothing else exists for him. There’s me and only me.
I try to fall back another step when he reaches me, but his arm slides around my back and pulls me tight against him. I’m panting as if I’ve just run the 100-meter dash. My hands now on his chest are trembling, but he’s as solid as the rock of Gibraltar.
With me in his arms, his whole being slows, leaning in with a gentle certainty until his lips taste mine.
I whimper as my fingers curl into his tunic, and my face heats with embarrassment at my reaction to him.
How does he do this?
My whole body is trembling, and knowing that I will leave him soon creates a painful rift in my soul that feels like he is being ripped from me, leaving me only half a person.
How can losing him make me half a person when I was whole this morning without him? None of it makes sense, but squeezing my eyes closed, another tear escapes down my cheek.
His thumb brushes away my tear, and I open my eyes to look into his misty gray orbs.
“Are you mad?” I ask.
“No,” he says, brushing my hair back from my temple. “How could I ever be cross with you?”
I melt.
“Why are your eyes grey instead of black?”
“Mmmm, they brighten with depth of feeling. It’s not just anger. It can be love.”
It is as if someone has just dragged a needle across a record player. Life screeches to a halt, and I push myself away from Volex and out of his arms.
“You don’t love me,” I spit the words with more bitterness than I imagined I could feel after so short a time.
Instead of reacting with hurt, Volex grows more calm, more patient, as he sinks his hands into his pants pockets. “I know that I feel more than fondness for you,” he says. “I feel more than desire, more than fun. You are trouble, Aisha. You will turn my life upside down, and I don’t care. You’re worth all of it—whatever you bring. You’re worth it, and I want my life to be with you.”
I make a choked guffaw sound and flip a finger toward the dance floor.
“What about your fiancé?” I throw at him.
Volex glances over his shoulder and then back at me. “Who?”
“Rekaia!” My voice turns shrill, and I take a deep breath, squeeze my lips tight, and shake the tension out of my hands—anything I can to calm myself.
Volex shakes his head. “Rekaia’s not my fiancé. She’s my betrothed. You’re my fiancé.”
My mouth drops open but no words come out. My ears might as well be bleeding from the words Volex just spoke to me.
What the hell! How do you talk logic with someone who’s insane?
“I’m not your fiancé,” I hiss, taking a step forward. “I’m your fake fiancé. I’m the woman who’s supposed to keep the rest of these harpies away from you, but you’ve ignored me all night!”
Volex turns to take in a casual, sweeping view of the ballroom before returning his attention to me.
“I might have ignored you,” he says, “but no one else has.”
My mouth drops open but no words come. I close it again, lean to the side so that I can see past Volex, and glance out over the crowd. Everywhere, people are watching us while appearing to do their best not to look like they’re watching us.
My brow furrows as I take this in.
“The only person who seems to have not known that you are here with me tonight… is you.” Volex lifts his brow ridge. “You’ve been socializing all evening, dancing with every available bachelor.” His eyes brighten as his voice darkens.
He’s jealous! The realization hits me like a bucket of cold water. Here I’ve been fuming about him ignoring me all night, and he’s thought I’ve done the same to him.
“That still doesn’t explain about
your betrothed,” I say as I square my shoulders, doing my best to turn the indignation table back around to him.
Volex takes a deep breath and stares off somewhere over my head as if collecting his thoughts. “Rekaia is from a prominent family,” he says finally but then says nothing more.
“And?” I prompt, not satisfied with his explanation.
“It’s…”—he shrugs—“she’s sort of like my fallback wife.”
My brows arch. “That doesn’t sound any better.” I can see Volex’s frustration grow.
“When she and I were children, our parents arranged play dates for us to spend time together, and they spent several years hammering out a detailed contract between the families to be put into effect if we ever get married. A betrothal is like a promise between families that if nothing better comes along then the children will be expected to wed. This”—Volex turns to look out over the ball before returning his attention to me—“was Mother’s attempt to make me either find that something ‘better’ or move forward with my betrothal to Rekaia. But, I do not love Rekaia, and I do not want to make a life with her.”
“Why not?” I push, and Volex’s face scrunches from having his proverbial back pushed against the wall.
“She scares me,” he finally says.
“She scares you?” My eyes damn near pop out of their sockets, and I can’t stop myself from leaning to the side again to see past Volex in search of Rekaia. I manage to spot her in what I can only describe as a football huddle with a group of other girls. Though I haven’t stood next to her, I’m guessing that the top of her head would only come up to my breasts. Next to Volex, she would seem even shorter.
“You’re scared of her?” I ask again, once more giving him my full attention.
Volex solemnly nods his head but doesn’t offer to add anything in his defense.
Well, at least the women of this planet are not viewed as necessarily the weaker sex, I muse, considering Volex’s Mom and Rekaia. It is nice to know that they wield a hefty power, and the thought nudges me a step closer to wanting to remain on Vertar. Even if I were not with Volex, maybe this place would hold opportunities for me. I’m seen as common on Earth… but exceptional here.