The Savage King

by Michelle M. Pillow

  Kirill nodded. When she didn’t move to turn the communicator on, he frowned. “Don’t you think you should call your ride and let them know you’re all right?”

  “I, yeah, sure.” Ulyssa swallowed nervously. She switched the unit on, hoping it would malfunction like it did in the forest. To her dismay, it lit right up. She looked at Kirill. He eyed her curiously and made no move to leave. She tried to smile and stood from the couch. Walking around the living room, she pressed the button and paced.

  “Hello?” a sweet elderly voice asked from the communicator.

  “Hey, grandma,” Ulyssa hesitated. She glanced at Kirill. He hadn’t moved. His arms crossed over his chest, and his rigid features gave nothing away. “Can I speak to Uncle Frank?”

  “What?” the elderly voice called, nearly screeching. “I can’t hear you, speak up!”

  “Grandma, get Uncle Frank,” Ulyssa stated, raising her voice. “It’s your granddaughter, Ulyssa!”

  “Oh, hold on, I’ll get Frank. I can’t hear you,” said the elderly voice, before it yelled, “Franklin!”

  Ulyssa knew it was a computer generated cover voice and that an Agency operator really spoke. Careful to keep her finger on the button so the operator could hear her answer his code, she again glanced at Kirill. Ulyssa bit her lip nervously, more from having to lie to him than from her little play she was about to perform, and explained softly, “She’s a little senile and deaf and sometimes forgets who I am. My Uncle Frank takes care of her in his apartment. I don’t know why he lets her answer the phone.”

  Kirill nodded once in understanding but didn’t move. She turned her back on him and stood, staring at the kitchen doorway. Her foot tapped lightly.

  “Uh, ye-hello,” Franklin’s authoritative voice drawled. “Frank here, who’s this?”

  “Uncle Frank? Hey, it’s me. Ulyssa.”

  “Ulyssa?” Franklin repeated, sounding warm and affectionate and not quite himself. “Is everything all right? We’ve been trying to contact you. We’ve been worried sick.”

  Franklin and the Agency had some new information for her.

  “My communicator was broken, but I’m fine. Listen, about that ride you’re sending. There has been a small change in coordinates. I’m still shipwrecked but found a place to stay. I’m typing them in now.” As Ulyssa let Franklin know she was on the same planet, she looked at Kirill expectantly. He softly gave her the coordinates, and she typed them into the communicator, adding the word active so he would know she was undercover and on to something. “You got it?”

  “Yeah,” Franklin answered, concerned. “Where is this?”

  “It’s a palace. The king was nice enough to let me stay while I await rescue,” Ulyssa said. Kirill’s mouth twitched, and she could just imagine what he was thinking. She blushed and turned her back to him once more. There was no way she was telling Franklin about that part of the arrangement. He didn’t have to know everything. Wanting to get the farce over with, she hugged an arm over her waist and asked, “How is everyone? I miss you guys.”

  What you got for me?

  “Your Aunt Milly’s planting roses. She went to that supplier you recommended, but they were all out of the thorny breeds—what did you call them again?”

  “The Alexis?” she asked very carefully.

  “That’s the one,” Franklin confirmed. “Milly was sorely disappointed. She wants you to try and find them before you come back. We hate to ask, but she has that dissertation coming up.”

  Doc Aleksander, Ulyssa thought. Her mission wasn’t over.

  Ulyssa bit her lip. Franklin wanted to know what she was on to and it sounded like he had something for her. Thorns. That could only mean that the other team hadn’t recovered the poisonous darts. Doc must have brought the poison with him when he came down to Qurilixen. But why would he need the revenge darts? What purpose would King Attor have in a dart that made a woman allergic to her husband’s or lover’s touch? But, if the darts were on the planet like Franklin obviously suspected, then...

  Oh, gods, no!

  With a sudden clamp of fear squeezing her heart, Ulyssa wondered if the biological weapons were already on the planet, too. She swallowed nervously and began to sweat. She needed to focus, to concentrate. If Nadja Aleksander, Doc’s daughter, ran away from him and joined Galaxy Brides, it was quite possible he came to the planet simply to retrieve her. It was a long shot, but it made sense. Nadja marrying a Draig prince had seemed a little strange, but she’d been too preoccupied with the woman’s father to think anything about it.

  The Agency couldn’t figure out why Doc had bothered to come so far into the Y quadrant, but assumed it was for the ore in the Qurilixen mine. The ore was a great power source for long-voyaging starships, and intelligence deduced he was about to plan something big that required long-distance travel. That’s why she was sent to stop him before they lost track of him over the galaxies. But, what if they were wrong? What if Doc only came to retrieve his runaway daughter and meeting King Attor was just a happy little opportunistic side job for him?

  The Agency had no clue about the deal going on down here. She had hoped against hope that their intelligence would be aware of the shipment, especially since Franklin would’ve had Doc’s old ship stopped and inspected by undercover agents posing as spaceport authorities. Any ships coming her way would have been scanned, and the biological material picked up on the Agency’s sensors. But what if they hadn’t found anything because the drop off had already been made? And how could she relay such a message to him?

  “I’ll try my best,” Ulyssa said in response to looking for the darts. A few missing revenge darts were the least of their problems. She’d carried the hope that it wasn’t as bad as she thought. But, speaking to Franklin, knowing he’d have done his job, she wasn’t so sure. Now it was up to her.

  What if the biological plague couldn’t be contained? What if the Draig panicked and an infected pilot took off for deep space to look for a cure, or just to escape the planet’s fate? He could go anywhere. The plague could spread beyond Qurilixen to other spaceports.

  She was no scientist. All she knew was that she’d been forced to memorize their names in case she ever ran across them. Her department didn’t handle this sort of thing. She wasn’t trained for this, not really. She had no way of knowing what the ingredients on the list could do or what they even looked like. She could be looking for a small vile or a huge crate. Short of naming them out loud over the communicator, she had no real way of telling Franklin what she was up against.

  “Uncle Frank, hold on a second.” Ulyssa turned. She glanced at Kirill. He hadn’t moved. His face was strangely passionless. “Kirill, do you mind if I have a moment alone?”

  She turned, thinking he’d allow her at least that. He didn’t move. Instead, he asked, “Why? Do you have something to hide?”

  Ulyssa glanced at him. She swallowed nervously. “I just want some privacy, that’s all. You know, family stuff.”

  “What are you trying to keep from me?” Kirill looked suspicious. She swallowed. She saw his nostrils flare slightly. His eyes filtered gold in their dark depths. Did he suspect her? Did he notice the paper she’d taken was gone? She forced her mind to be blank of conscious thought, afraid he might actually try to probe into her thoughts. She’d felt him in her before and suspected the Var might be mildly telepathic under the right circumstances.

  A heavy sigh came from Franklin. The communicator crackled. If she didn’t hurry up, she’d lose contact.

  “Franklin, are you there?” Ulyssa asked, keeping her eye on Kirill.

  “Ulyssa? You’d better hurry. We’ve got a pretty bad flux coming.” Franklin paused, and she knew he was worried. “I’m about to lose contact.”

  Kirill hadn’t moved. He was waiting for an answer.

  Ulyssa took a deep breath. “Uncle Frank. I’m engaged.”

  Kirill’s face paled. A wave of pain crossed his features. The look stabbed at her heart, but also gave her a dim
sense of hope.

  “What?” Franklin’s voice lost all softness.

  “It’s a contracted marriage,” Ulyssa rushed, turning her back. She couldn’t bear to see Kirill’s hurt expression. Her throat worked violently. It didn’t matter. She had to let Franklin know what was going on, and a bombshell like that was the only way to do it, the only way she could think of. “I haven’t met him, but he’s a scientist—a biologist—on Ranoz.”

  There. All the clues should be in that statement. There was a slight pause and Ulyssa knew Franklin was putting it all together. Contract, unknown location, biological, Ranoz. It didn’t take him long.

  “You—you’re sure?” Franklin asked. “I mean, it’s what you want?”

  “Yep, the contract is as good as signed.” Ulyssa paused. She glanced at Kirill. His face was red with anger. “All that’s left is the final transporting of the bride.”

  Okay, she thought, so that last statement was weak. But, Kirill doesn’t seem to be paying attention.

  “All right, kid,” Franklin mumbled. She could tell by his tone he was distracted with what she’d told him. Saying, for the sake of eavesdroppers, he added, “If that’s what you really want, I’m happy for you. I’ll relay this new pick up information to the ship. Last I heard they were ahead of schedule. They should be there in about three weeks if not sooner.”

  “Thanks, Uncle Frank. Can’t wait to be home.”

  “Yeah, can’t wait to have you back safe and sound.” There was a pause, and then Franklin added, “Oh, and Ulyssa?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Happy birthday.”

  A small, soundless laugh left her. Franklin was the only one who ever remembered.

  “Bye, Uncle Frank.”

  “Bye, kid.”

  Ulyssa turned off the communicator. She waited, unmoving, too afraid to look at Kirill.

  Kirill scowled at Ulyssa’s back, barely hearing the last of her words as she ended her communication. He felt like she’d kicked him in the gut. She was engaged? No matter that the man was a stranger to her. Why hadn’t she told him? Was that the big secret she’d been keeping from him?

  Something strange nagged at his brain about the conversation. It was something in her tone, a vibration he picked up on with his sensitive hearing. He sniffed the air, smelling her, pushing past the unique perfume of her body to dig deeper into what was happening. The jealousy left him, and he smiled grimly. She was lying.

  He didn’t know what she was up to, but she definitely wasn’t getting married. The grip over his heart released a fraction, and he could again breathe. Keeping his voice stern, he ordered, “Come here.”

  “What?” Ulyssa’s wide blue eyes turned to stare at him. Her lip trembled, and she sucked it between her teeth to stop it.

  “Come,” he beckoned. “I want you to come to me.”

  “But,” she frowned. “Didn’t you hear what I just said? Aren’t you…?”

  He knew she lied, but he didn’t know why. It might just have been a way to let him know she wasn’t interested. Had too many of his feelings shown the last time they were together in the office? He’d been trying hard to fight it. He’d been trying to let her go. Was the lie her way of telling him she didn’t want him?

  “What? Angry that you are engaged?” he questioned. He forced a light tone to his words as he shrugged. His dark gaze was steady as he looked directly at her. “Why should I be? I don’t know the man. You obviously feel no loyalty to him for you have been with me.”

  “But, you’re not...?” Her features fell. Her eyes moved to the floor, but not before roaming down his graceful body. She turned her back on him so he couldn’t see the sudden tears in her eyes, the pain crushing her from the inside. He wasn’t jealous at all. He didn’t care. He didn’t care. Nothing between them mattered to him. She was just a diversion. She was...

  Ulyssa’s heart stopped.

  She was a king’s whore.

  “Lyssa,” he began. “I would remind you that you promised to stay three months in my home. Just because your ride comes early, doesn’t mean you can get out of our bargain.”

  Ulyssa’s stomach lurched. She didn’t hear him over the strange buzzing in her ears. Her hand flew to her mouth, and she ran for the bathroom. Seeing the toilet, she fell to her knees and threw up into the stone bowl.

  Kirill rushed in behind her to watch helplessly. Worry strained his brow. His hand reached to touch her, but he held back, unsure how to give her comfort, unsure if it would be welcome. Slowly, he took a step back.

  “Lyssa?” he asked, the word a mere whisper.

  “Don’t,” she mumbled, gasping for breath as the sickness subsided. Her heart couldn’t take being near him at the moment. She choked back tears under the guise of panting. Her words a trembling whisper, she said, “Don’t watch this. Just...go away. I’ll be fine. Humans get this stomach flu sometimes. It’ll pass, but it’s contagious. Just go away, my lord. I don’t want you to get sick. I don’t know how your body will react to whatever I have. I know what I need, and I can take care of myself.”

  “Are you sure? I do not wish to leave until I know you are all right. I can send a medic,” he offered. His voice was tight, strained with worry, but she didn’t notice. She was too miserable.

  “Yeah, I’m sure,” she answered, reaching to pull the cord to flush so she didn’t have to look at the vomit.

  “How...where does it come from?” Kirill was still loath to leave her.

  “It just does. I haven’t been eating right. I’ve been preoccupied. My body just needs to reboot.” Ulyssa felt a wave of nausea coming to her again. Hearing his voice was pure hell. She needed him to go. Waving weakly behind her, she ordered, “Go. Get out! I don’t want you watching me.”

  “Siren,” Kirill said, so Ulyssa could hear him.

  “Yes, my lord,” the computer answered.

  “If Lyssa has need of me, she has permission to summon me to her or to come and find me.”

  “Yes, my lord,” Siren said.

  “I won’t need you,” Ulyssa mumbled bitterly. She pushed to her feet. Kirill watched her stumble across his home. She purposefully didn’t look directly at him. “All I need is sleep. You’d better get out of here. This can get pretty ugly.”

  Ulyssa knew she was lying. She wasn’t sick with the flu, but she desperately wanted to lie down and wallow in self-pity. She wanted to curl into a little ball and sleep, to forget her assignment, to forget the biological weapons and the Medical Mafia, but most of all she wanted to forget King Kirill.

  29

  “Siren, monitor Lyssa’s life functions. Alert me if there is danger to her.” Kirill said once he was out of his home. It was almost time to dine, and he decided to make an appearance in the banquet hall. He’d been spending his evening meals with Ulyssa, and he knew that was one source of the rumors about his over-attentiveness to his mistress. He was about due for a public appearance and now would be as good a time as any. It wasn’t as if he could go back home.

  The banquet hall was filled, and Kirill stopped to make small talk with the soldiers as he worked his way to the head table. Reid, Quinn, and Falke were already seated when he arrived, and they nodded to him in greeting. Before he even made it to his seat, servants brought out a plate of food and a goblet of wine for him.

  Kirill took his seat amongst his brothers. As he picked up his goblet, a hush fell over the hall. Kirill looked up. Taura was waving for silence. Linzi stood next to her. Slowly, the two women came forward.

  “My king,” Taura said, with a very dignified curtsey. She was a tall, stately woman with long willowy limbs, very characteristic of her Roane heritage. Her gown of gold shimmered as she walked. Her long, golden brown hair shone in waves down her back, mimicked by the hazel-gold of her almond shaped eyes. She was a beautiful woman and all could instantly see why King Attor had chosen her as his first half-mate.

  “Lady Taura, you grace us with your presence,” Kirill answered, honoring her. They all teas
ed Falke about his mother, but the truth was, growing up, she had been a mother to them all, especially when their own birth mothers had died.

  “My king, Linzi has served her month in exile. I bring her before you now seeking absolution from her misconduct.” Taura motioned to the dark temptress at her side. Linzi’s gaze shyly met the king’s before turning to the floor.

  “Granted,” Kirill answered. He knew that her exile wasn’t her fault. Neither one of them had any way of knowing that Ulyssa proclaimed herself as his woman. He stood and motioned to his side. “Please, join the table so all can see that you are absolved.”

  “Thank you, my king,” Linzi curtseyed. Taura led her around the table. Servants came forward to move the princes’ plates over to make room. Taura sat between Kirill and Falke. Linzi took her place at Kirill’s other side next to Quinn. She shot the king a small smile and said nothing as a plate of food was set before her. She ate in silence.

  Kirill studied Linzi from the corner of his eye. She was a beautiful woman, but he found he wasn’t interested. Turning back, he ate, ignoring the women as he thought of Ulyssa in his home, alone and sick. More than anything, he wanted to go back to comfort her.

  Ulyssa cried herself to sleep, not the wretched sobs she felt inside, but the silent, unmoving tears of someone who locked their feelings within. When she awoke, the nausea of a broken heart was gone, but a passionless sense of duty replaced it leaving her numb.

  She had no future with Kirill. She’d known it from the beginning. It was her fault for allowing herself to get so comfortable in his home. His family—something she’d never experienced—had drawn her in. Sure, they were only brothers, but they had taken to her—Falke by training her, Quinn by their walks and conversations, and Reid by his warm home and shared memories of the Var princes’ childhood.

  Her memories were of school and the orphanage. Her childhood was a cot in the middle of a long hall, surrounded by the cots of other orphaned children. Her first happy memory was that proud day she finally got her own room at the Agency and didn’t have to share it with a hundred other children, or when she got to take a particle bath and change in privacy. Her childhood didn’t allow for modesty, for a sense of belonging. She had been a number—child 71577.