by Cara Bristol
Marlix averted his gaze as if he couldn’t stand the sight of her. He stared at the wall over her head. He squeezed his left hand into a fist, drawing her attention, and for the first time, she noticed he held some sort of a tool in his right hand.
His nostrils flared, and his chest rose and fell. Time seemed to slow with his breathing. At last he spoke. “Come here.”
Her wobbly legs refused to move.
“Do not make me come for you.”
“Marlix…Alpha…” Shame and cowardice tasted sour in her mouth. “Please…don’t…please…”
He lunged. She screamed when she was hoisted off her feet. In terror she struck at him, her fists bouncing off his shoulders. He didn’t so much as grunt to indicate he registered the blows. With controlled force, he threw her onto the bed. She landed on her back. He subdued her flailing limbs by capturing both wrists in one hand over her head and pressing his knee across her legs. Her breath came in ragged pants as she tried to buck him off.
Marlix raised the tool—a cutter of some sort—and slipped the cold metal blade under her insignia ring. She flinched when it crunched through the metal.
Cringed again when Marlix yanked off the insignia and threw it across the room.
He released her and wiped his hands on his uniform pants. “Go,” he said, his voice as dead as his eyes. “Go back to the Bazaar. Go back to Terra. I do not care. I do not want you.”
At the door, he paused but did not look back. “When I return, I will deliver you to the tram. Be ready.” He departed as quietly as he’d entered.
Tara curled into a fetal position and wept.
Chapter Eighteen
Tara bagged a length of brown gabardine, and, forcing a smile, she handed the sack to the customer. She slumped with relief as the beta left the shop. A week had passed since Marlix had thrown her out, and it had become harder with every passing day to fake normalcy. In her absence, Ramon had managed the shop well, and her business had prospered. Since her return, he’d managed her too, his concern and caring the only tether that kept her from being swallowed by a fog of despair. He coaxed her to eat, escorted her to and from her quarters, dealt with customers when she couldn’t, and did not ask questions she couldn’t answer.
He’d attempted to comfort her with a hug, but that she wouldn’t allow. Marlix’s prohibition against Ramon touching her haunted her, and she shied away from all physical contact. Every time Ramon came near, with every accidental brush or bump that occurred during the work day, she would think, Marlix would not like that.
Nothing could be further from the truth now. Marlix did not care what happened to her. He had told her so. And he did not say things he did not mean. “I cannot afford the luxury of inconsistency.” His words played and replayed in her brain. “I do not want you.”
She’d hoped to lose her sorrow in hard work, but it dogged her instead. The bolts of the composite fabric reminded her how she’d met Marlix and Urazi, and the panels of green brought to mind the Enclave shift he’d brought her so she could work in the fields. When he’d freed her.
Well, she was free now. Bitterly free. Guiltily free.
She’d heard no news—had no way to find out—but assumed Urazi had succumbed to his critical injuries.
Perched on a stool, Ramon squinted at the inventory-control screen. “We are running low on some of our best-selling fabrics. It could take a month to get them. We should reorder.”
“There is a shuttle leaving for Terra next week,” she said.
“I’m not suggesting we go get them,” he said in a gentle tone. “Our fabrics—”
“I understood you.” Tara rubbed her sweaty palms down her slacks and remembered how Marlix had wiped his hands of her after he’d cut off the ring. After the looseness of the shifts, Terran clothing seemed too constrictive, uncomfortable. She remembered the rriiiipp of her shifts. How many had he ruined in passion and punishment? Tara choked on a sob.
Ramon’s voice filtered through, and Tara realized she’d drifted off. Again. Too often she had tried to work only to end up mentally wandering in misery. Focus, Tara, focus.
“Why don’t you take the rest of the day off?” he said gently, as if he was the boss and she the employee. Ramon. Such a good friend he’d turned out to be. What would she have done this week without him?
Tell him. Tell him now. She had reached a decision but had delayed breaking the news, unwilling to upend Ramon’s life as hers had been. Coward. Tara took a breath. “I am going home,” she said.
“Good. I can handle things here. Let me lock up, and I’ll walk you.”
“No, I mean home to Terra.” She couldn’t remain with the memories, with the chance she might encounter Marlix—with the greater likelihood that she would never again encounter Marlix. At least if she were hundreds of millions of kilometers away, she could stop scanning the crowds for a glimpse of his tall form.
Ramon slid off the stool and approached the desk. At the concern in his eyes, she had to clamp her lips together to prevent herself from dissolving into a fit of weeping. She did not deserve sympathy. Ramon did not have all the facts. All he knew was that she had fallen for the Alpha who’d kidnapped her, had been held and released from the Enclave, and she now pined for her captor.
Ramon covered her hand. She endured it for a moment before easing her hand away. Stupid. Would she live the rest of her life without a man’s touch? And Ramon was gay! His intention had been to comfort her. He had, in fact, met a beta with whom he’d formed a relationship. Which complicated her decision.
“Tara, are you sure? You’re hurting now, but with time the pain will fade. Do you want to give up everything you’ve worked so hard to achieve? You have one of the most successful booths in the Bazaar.”
“You’re a good friend, Ramon.” Tara twisted her hands. “You’re a wonderful employee; you kept everything going in my absence. Because of you, I still have a business.”
Ramon studied his feet. “I’m not a friend, I’m a coward. I should have done more to help—”
“Don’t say that. You did everything you could.”
When he opened his mouth to protest, she held up her hand to silence him. “No, I won’t allow you to blame yourself. You had nothing to do with what happened. What I wanted to tell you is that my leaving doesn’t need to affect you. You can continue to run the shop. You’ll be the manager. You can continue to work here.”
He tsked. “I’m not worried about that. I care about you.”
“That’s why you’re such a good friend.” She inhaled. “I reserved a seat on the shuttle to Terra. I leave—” Tara broke off as a female entered the shop.
She turned to greet her customer. Her eyes widened, and she felt the first little twinge of joy in a week. “Omra!”
“Tara, how are you?” asked the hugely pregnant breeder of Alpha Commander Dak.
“I’m fine,” she answered automatically. “Here, sit down. Ramon, get a stool.” Tara pointed, but Ramon was already dragging it forward.
“I do not need to sit,” Omra denied but sank onto the chair with obvious relief. She smoothed her hands over her abdomen. “One month of gestation remains, but I believe Berik will be arriving sooner.”
“Berik? You are having a son?”
“I have not been tested, but I sense it.” Her happy smile contorted into a grimace, and she massaged her side. “The way he kicks, he has to be Alpha. Already he attempts to assume command.” She giggled. “He is like his seppa.”
“Where is Commander Dak? You did not come alone?”
“No, Dak brought me.” Omra waved her hand at the Bazaar. “He is with Miri. He is buying her another toy she does not need.” Omra rolled her eyes. “She is quite fond of your stuffed animals, but I swear, they are alive and can reproduce. I do not know how we could have acquired so many.”
Tara forced a smile. “They do multiply,” she said.
Omra’s eyes grew serious. “I had heard you were with Commander Marlix.”
At the sound
of his name Tara nearly doubled over in pain. This was why she needed to leave Parseon. She closed her eyes, felt the scrutiny of Omra and Ramon both. She would never heal if every casual mention, every offhand inquiry, returned her to the moment when she’d killed his feelings for her and he’d banished her from his life.
Tara opened her eyes and swallowed. “I was. But no more.”
“Could I speak to you alone?” Omra asked in a low voice. “I have a proposition for you.”
Despite her misery, Tara was curious. She raised her eyebrows at Ramon. “Would you mind?”
He looked like he was about to protest, but then sighed. “I’ll grab some lunch,” he said. “Bring you back something?”
“Please, and thank you,” Tara answered. She could not have asked for a better friend.
On his way out, Ramon flipped the sign to CLOSED.
Tara twisted to face Omra. She wet her lips. “What is it?”
“I know about the deaths of Jergan and Qalin’s guards.”
Hope soared by the absence of one name. “Urazi? He’s alive?” Tara pressed a hand to her thumping heart.
“He is still unconscious at the Enclave. But yes, he still lives.”
After a week, he had not regained consciousness? Relief drained away. “How do you know all this?”
“Dak has been in frequent contact with Commander Marlix. They, along with Alpha Ilian, have united against Qalin and Artom. Which is why I am here. I do not wish to alarm you, but you should come stay at our abode.”
Tara blinked. “Why? What has happened?”
Omra glanced out into the Bazaar, then leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Dak believes Commander Qalin may retaliate against you.”
Tara sucked in a breath. “Qalin knows…that…that…I killed one of his men?”
Omra nodded.
Tara gulped, but she threw back her shoulders. She’d gotten to know Omra through her visits to her shop, but it wasn’t like they were close friends. She did not want to impose upon her and Dak—especially when she would not be the best company. Before long, she’d be leaving anyway. “I’ll be fine. I am going home to Terra.”
“When?” Omra asked.
“Next week,” she answered. Then came a small burst of elation. “Did Marlix ask Dak to take me in?” She looked at Omra.
Even before she spoke, the pity on Omra’s face dashed Tara’s hopes. “I do not wish to mislead you. Commander Marlix has forbidden anyone to speak your name.” Omra grabbed her hand with a gentle but firm grip and squeezed. “Please. Come stay with us, with me. The domicile is very secure, and I would love to have some female company while Dak attends to his province.”
Tara swiveled her head to gaze into the Bazaar. It bustled with vibrancy, but there was nothing here for her anymore. She nodded. “All right. Thank you.”
Chapter Nineteen
Marlix approached the Enclave infirmary, rubbed a hand over his bristled jaw, and sucked in a breath to fortify himself. Monto. How much longer will this continue? Duty continued to call him away from his beta’s side. But each evening, he had to force himself to enter Urazi’s room. The sight of his friend, so close to death, bore down upon him, as if he were being pressed to death under a load of stones. Each day that Urazi failed to improve added another rock. Marlix was smothering under the weight of impotence and helplessness. He was Alpha. What he commanded, happened.
He’d commanded the physicians to heal Urazi.
He’d commanded Urazi to wake.
He’d commanded nature to intervene.
His commands held no more sway than the foolish wishes of a breeder.
Breeder. He swallowed as his stomach churned. He had let Tara go, except she had not released him—nay, her hold over him had strengthened. The specter of her face, voice, her smell—even her remembered insults—haunted him.
Marlix slipped his hand into his pocket and fingered the severed insignia ring. After ordering Tara to leave, he’d returned to deliver her to the tram, but she’d already departed. Later he’d learned she’d begged a ride with a group of Enclavists. Her ring had lain on the floor where he’d thrown it.
He rubbed the rough edge. A circle broken because he’d acted on his pain and anger. Marlix cursed, jerked his hand out of his pocket, and trudged into the room.
Anika was seated bedside and was in conversation with Urazi. Both peered up at him. His beta was conscious! Alert. Elation flooded him, and he could only stare.
“You are awake,” Marlix said, struggling to tame the excess emotion.
“I shall go.” Anika stood.
“You do not need to leave because I am here.” Marlix scanned her face. The female offspring of his sire had suffered too. She still appeared wan and lacking in vigor, but she smiled when she touched Urazi’s shoulder.
“I will come tomorrow to keep you company.”
Urazi’s pale lips twitched with humor. “I shall be here.”
Anika rounded the bed and would have swept out of the room, but Marlix grabbed her arm. The death of the male who had been responsible for her had left her without protection. Most likely for the rest of her life. The stigma of having been the breeder of a beta meant no alpha would accept her. And betas rarely sought to burden themselves with the care of a breeder, since they were forbidden to produce progeny.
How would a lone breeder survive?
Marlix regarded her with concern. “How are you faring? Is there anything you need?”
Her eyes filled with tears, and Marlix knew she remembered Jergan. He was what she needed.
“I am sorry,” he said.
She sniffed and scrubbed away her tears. “Do not worry. I will recover.”
“I will assume responsibility for you,” Marlix offered.
“No.” She shook her head. “I will miss Jergan. But I have decided I do not need a male to take care of me. I will do it on my own.”
“We will talk later,” he said. She was dazed by grief and could not be held accountable for her crazy words. He wrapped his arms around her, and she hugged him back.
After Anika left, Marlix took the seat she had vacated. The relief of seeing Urazi awake filled him with such buoyancy, he knew he needed to keep a firm grip on his emotions to avoid embarrassing himself. “Have you not lain about enough? How much longer do you intend to malinger?” Marlix asked brusquely.
“Commander, I apologize.” Urazi threw back the covering and struggled to sit up.
“Monto!” Marlix pressed him back against the infirmary sleeping platform. “Are you mentally deficient? I was joking.” He raked his hand through his hair.
“You are Alpha. I do not wish to disappoint you.”
The attempt to rise had whitened Urazi’s face and carved brackets of pain around his mouth. Marlix narrowed his eyes. “Did they not give you a pain alleviant?”
“I refused it as any Parseon would.”
Marlix stalked to the door and flung it open. “Physician!” he shouted.
The medical technician dashed in. “Commander, how may I assist you?”
“Allay my beta’s discomfort.”
“At once, Commander.” The physician scurried away to do his bidding.
Urazi started to protest, but Marlix silenced him with a look.
“As you wish, Alpha.” Urazi bowed his head.
“As I wish.” Relieving his beta’s pain was within his control, even if nothing else was.
The physician delivered the alleviant, and within seconds, relief colored Urazi’s face.
“Treat him at regular intervals,” Marlix commanded. “Do not allow him to refuse.”
“Certainly, Commander.” The physician saluted.
When they were alone, Marlix pulled the chair closer to the platform. “I do not think less of you for taking the alleviant. You nearly died,” he said, the words awkward in his mouth. One did not discuss feelings, but the depth of his sentiment refused to rest. “You are my beta, and you are like my brother.” Marlix fidgeted, cou
ld not figure out what to do with his hands. He dug his fingers into his knees. “I must apologize to you. It is my fault you were injured. I ordered you into harm’s way.”
Urazi shook his head. “You could not have foreseen Qalin’s men would appear. Had I known of the danger, I would have gone anyway.” He paused. “I am relieved Tara was unharmed.”
“I released her.” Marlix sighed. “I sent her back to—” He did not know where she’d gone. The Bazaar?
Urazi blinked. “But you had claimed her.”
“It is better this way.”
“For whom?”
“For her.” Marlix rose to his feet and moved to the window. He wondered how she was doing. He assumed she busied herself in her shop. While still in the throes of grief and anger, he had notified Dak he no longer held her in custody and then informed him he never wanted to hear her name mentioned. Dak had acceded to his wishes.
Dozens of times he’d started to contact Tara, only to retreat. Parseon perched on the brink of civil war, and he’d become a prime target of a brutal, vengeful Alpha. Tara would be better off without him.
“I did not predict the repercussions of abducting a female so unfit for our world.” Nor had he envisioned how much he would want her, how important the little things would become. He missed her pink hair, which had begun to bleed through the brown, the trail of foliage up her arm, the clop of her inappropriate footwear, her brazenness so unlike other females, whose eyes seemed to be permanently downcast. He remembered her smiles, her tears, her insults and curses. Her boldness and her submission. She’d caused him to shake with laughter and with lust. She’d wounded him—then healed him.
She’d resisted him, challenged him, fought him, and when he’d thought he had tamed her, she’d disobeyed him once again.
But he did not blame her for the deaths or his beta’s injuries. He had let his emotions get the better of him. In his worry for Urazi, his pain at Anika’s loss, his fury at Qalin, he had sought someone to blame, to punish. He done what he’d sworn he would never do—given voice to his anger. “I do not care. I do not want you.”
“She would wreak havoc if I kept her.” She would say and do inappropriate things. He would have to discipline her. Her rounded, plump buttocks would be rosy quite often. But after each spanking, he would kiss away the pain, and then—