Saven Denial (The Saven Series Book 3)

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Saven Denial (The Saven Series Book 3) Page 3

by Siobhan Davis


  “Precisely.” She leans in and affixes the second disc to my other temple. “We record every time travel trip.” My eyes widen in surprise. “Our operatives are trained to blend into the environment, and successful concealment is essential in order to capture recordings of the future. Sometimes we send a group in with instructions to record different angles of the same scene, or from different perspectives. That way we can glean a full picture of future events.” She steps away from me. “I’ve pulled up the relevant files. Now you can see why.”

  There’s no time to come to terms with Griselda’s shocking revelation before the recording starts unfurling in front of me.

  A tall, curved holoscreen stretching the length of me wraps completely around the chair, cocooning me in a virtual plastic prison. Axton and Griselda position themselves behind me. The chair whirs softly as it elevates slightly into more of an upright position. An invisible connector whips from me to the screen, and the picture starts to load. I startle as the image of Logan and me solidifies in front of my eyes. Everything else fades away as I observe the scene as if I’m watching a movie of my future life.

  We sit on a blue-checkered blanket on a lush lawn surrounded by the imposing walls of the cavernous palace. Guards wearing the red, black, and gold Saven emblem patrol the grounds. Logan’s hair is shorter in front, a few strands dotted with gray. Fine lines crease the corners of his upturned mouth. My dark hair is coiled in an elegant bun on top of my head as I lean back in his arms. “What time are Win and Dali and the girls expected?”

  “They’ll be here in an hour,” he replies, pressing a kiss to my temple.

  “Are you nervous?” I twist around, looking up into his stunning blue eyes.

  “No. Excited more than anything. This has been a long time coming.”

  “It has. I’m so proud of you.” I cup one side of his face as my lips meet his.

  “Ew, gross,” a gangly teenage boy says, looming over us. His jet-black hair is curly at the front and shorn tight at the sides. Plopping down on the grass beside us, he asks, “What time does Cazia get here?”

  Logan and I share knowing smiles. “Someone seems eager,” Logan teases.

  “What if I am?” The boy’s defensive ocean blue eyes meet mine.

  I reach over and tousle his hair. “What your father means is, that’s great. Just make sure you treat her with respect. Her parents are close friends, and we’d hate for anything to come between our families.”

  “Stars, Mom,” he says to me. “You make me sound like a scoundrel out to steal her virtue. It’s not like that between us. I like her, and I haven’t seen her in weeks. I’ve missed her.”

  I smile at my son in obvious adoration. “I’m sorry, Nyx. I didn’t realize it was serious.”

  He rises to his feet, dusting his pants. “I didn’t either, until it was.” Logan looks perplexed, but I smile. “Anyways,” Nyx says, rocking back on his heels. “I’m done sharing with the folks. I’ll go and wait outside for her.” He crosses the lawn in a few lanky strides.

  Logan sighs. “I feel old.”

  I laugh. “I know. When did he get so grown up?”

  “When did we?” Logan asks.

  The scene changes and I’m transported inside the palatial palace. An older version of Win and Dali are seated across the table from Logan and me. Two tall, striking-looking girls sit on either side of them. Nyx sits alongside Logan, and another smaller black-haired boy sits in the chair at my side.

  “There’s a lot of excitement in Amara over the ceremony,” Dali says in between sips of her drink.

  “Same here,” I reply.

  “I think it’s fair to say every planet is experiencing the same enthusiasm,” Win adds.

  Logan puts his glass down. “Peace has been hard fought, and while the last twenty years have seen more contentment than any period in recent times, tomorrow is significant because it cements that achievement. It’s every nation signing their commitment to this alliance for the long term. Securing the future for the next generation.”

  “Yes,” I say, leaning into him. “It’s this last piece that’s crucial. That makes it real in everyone’s minds. It’s an important day. We should celebrate it every year.”

  He tweaks my nose. “Good idea.”

  “Not to put a dampener on things, but what about the Tor?” Win asks.

  Logan’s expression darkens. “I’ve tried reasoning with Griselda, but it’s impossible to reason with someone who is totally devoid of conscience, someone who refuses to administer the morality serum so her people have a real future to look forward to. She’s still resolutely clinging to the past.” He exhales deeply, slouching in his chair.

  “You’ve done the best you can,” I reassure him, patting his hand. “Every other nation is signing the Treaty and that’s enough. The Tor can’t renew the war all by themselves. Let them live on the fringes of our society if that’s how they want it. That’s not on you.”

  “I know, but I can’t help feeling like I’ve failed. Like I should have convinced her. Or Axton.”

  I stiffen perceptibly. “You know why he won’t toe the line.”

  Logan clasps my hands in his and reaches over to kiss me. “Yes, and you have nothing to feel guilty over. What he proposed was non-negotiable.”

  A solemn silence descends. I stare at the tabletop, lost in thought. Deep grooves line Logan’s forehead. Win and Dali exchange uncomfortable looks.

  “Stars,” Dali says, a few minutes later. “Can we talk about something else, please. None of us wants to relive that. This is supposed to be a celebration, recognition of how far we’ve come. One race refusing to play ball hardly merits mention. And it’s not your fault, Sadie. Leave them to it and good riddance I say.”

  The scene shifts again. This time I’m brought to a massive vaulted auditorium that buzzes with the sound of hundreds of voices.

  Crowds throng the seated arena, chattering animatedly. Two giant ornate scrolls hang on either side of a wide elevated dais. Bursts of joyous, celebratory music play in the background. Logan stands proudly in the center of the stage preparing to address the gathered crowd. He is wearing black and gold ceremonial robes that cover him from his neck to his feet. I sit with Dali, Win, and our children behind him. The music amplifies, capturing the crowd’s attention. As the melodious tune fades into the background, the crowd mutes and Logan opens the event.

  “Today heralds the start of a new era of peace and prosperity. A new future of solidarity and acceptance and working together to enhance our world instead of working against each other to destroy it.” Several reverential heads bob in the crowd as a loud round of applause breaks out. “This peace has been sorely won. We will never forget those we lost on our journey to today.” He glances over his shoulder at me, his pained expression mirroring my own. A reverent hush spreads over the entire place. “We sign the Intergalatic Peace Treaty today in their honor, their memory, and in doing so we commit to a future where anything is achievable because of their noble sacrifice.”

  A roll call commences, and one by one, men and women in full regal attire ascend the stage and sign their commitment. Triumphant music flows continuously as the officials alight and descend the platform one after another. An awed hush has descended over the crowd.

  Logan is the last to sign. Turning around, he offers his hand to me, and I rise and join him. He presses his mouth to my ear. “None of this would have been possible without you, Sadie. You didn’t just save me. You saved the world. Every day I offer up thanks that you came into my life.” Tears glisten in his eyes. “Words are inadequate to describe how much joy you bring me.” He looks over my head at our sons, sitting proudly behind us. “I cherish our life, our happiness, and I never take it for granted.” He brings my hand to his mouth and plants a tender kiss on it. “And just when I think I couldn’t love you any more, every day I do. It’s only right that you are by my side as we seal this deal. You complete me, and I love you forever.”

  Axton em
its a disgruntled snort, but I ignore him, far too awed by the scene in front of me.

  Happy tears bloom in my eyes as I watch Logan put pen to paper.

  Boisterous cheers resonate around the auditorium as a multitude of brightly colored strobe lights crisscross the ceiling. Jubilant music fills the room as the exuberant crowd clasps hands and hug. Laughter and tears mingle.

  Logan pulls Nyx and his brother toward us and enfolds us in a family embrace. My blue eyes find his and I mouth “I love you.”

  The image disappears, and it’s only then I realize I’m crying. My chest heaves with longing for a future that now seems out of reach. A loud sob escapes my throat, and my whole body quivers with unbridled emotion. My chair retracts and Axton’s thunderous face comes into view. Griselda pulls over a stool and sits down before me. She shakes her head, disappointment and rage darkening her severe features. “Answer me one thing,” she says in a rigidly controlled voice. “Do you love Logan?”

  Perhaps I should lie, but in that moment, after what I’ve just witnessed, I’m incapable of expressing anything but the truth of what’s in my heart. “With all my heart,” I sob.

  Axton slams his fist into the wall and hangs his head. When he turns back around, I inhale sharply at the emotion contorting his face. His jaw pulses as he stares at me, unspoken words lying between us. “Screw this.” Shaking his head, he exits the room in four quick strides, shoulders hunched over.

  “How did you fall in love with him?” Griselda asks, her brow puckering. “It’s impossible,” she mumbles.

  I detect no obvious concern for her son’s clearly emotional state, and that pisses me off. Perhaps, it’s too close to the bone. Unnerving empathy blooms inside me. “What?” I sniffle, perplexed, as her question registers in my foggy brain.

  “What you have just borne witness to was the future we visited before we put our plan into action. You’ve undergone years of purification and training so that that future was no longer a reality. Your sole purpose was to lure Logan, make him fall in love with you, and then kill him. You should have been immune to his charm, but instead, somehow you have forged an even stronger bond.” She taps a finger off her lips as she stares into space, deep in thought.

  “You make me sick,” I hiss. “And I’ll never kill him, no matter what you do to me. I love him. We belong together. That proves it.”

  “No.” Her head shakes vehemently. “No, you don’t. Maybe I’m looking at this the wrong way,” she muses to herself, as if I’m no longer in the room. “It worked even better than we thought. And we can still use it to our advantage,” she says, nodding her head, excitement skittering over her face. “We’ve already changed the future. We can do it again.”

  “What? How?” I level a suspicious look her way.

  “What did you see of yourself in the future?”

  I rewind the scene in my head. “I looked different. I didn’t look like … you, like the Tor.” My cherished childhood photo springs to mind. The one of me and Mom, when I was little, at a time when she loved me without question. My dark hair and blue eyes match the appearance of the future me. But I don’t look like that now. I frown, confused.

  “No, you didn’t, because you were with him under your own steam then,” she states.

  I’m grappling to comprehend it all. “So, what you’re saying is I was with him without your meddling?”

  “Yes. Top marks, Sadie!”

  Her sarcastic tone grates on my nerves, but I ignore her, lost in the enormity of the moment. Logan and I truly are meant to be. An involuntary smile tugs up the corners of my mouth.

  “It’s no cause for celebration, Sadie. Things are different now, because in altering your past, we’ve already changed the future. You will complete your mission and deliver his head on a platter to me.”

  “Why are you doing this? He isn’t responsible for the actions of the previous generation. And from what I’ve just witnessed, he succeeds in bringing peace to the galaxy. Surely that supersedes any petty plans for revenge?”

  She slams her face in mine, and her stale breath leaks over my skin. I recoil in my seat. “There is nothing petty about our plans or what the Saven did to our people! But it’s more than that,” she yells. Easing back a bit, an angry snarl manipulates her face. “Peace,” she spits. “I hate the word. I hate the concept. We don’t want peace! We like things just the way they are. Anarchy and disagreement and war.” She rises, puffing out her chest like it’s some ancient battle cry. “We have never thrived as much as we have in the last thirty years. Logan is going to destroy all that with his pandering for peace. He’s not going to succeed. Not on my watch.”

  She’s insane. Seriously unhinged, if her statement is to be believed. She is doing all this to thwart peace? That’s it? There’s no big agenda or personal motivation? She is truly psychotic. Even Dante shows the odd sliver of morality. But I detect none in her. She is completely lacking a moral compass, and that’s the scariest revelation today.

  “I won’t hurt him. You’ll have to kill me first.” I fix her with a dead-serious look.

  “As much as I’m tempted, Sadie, that will never happen. I own you. You are mine, my most treasured creation. Flawed, yes,” she says, waving her hand disparagingly around my persona, “but we’ll sort that.”

  “I’m not a creation! I’m a person.” I thrash about in the chair as a burning sensation creeps over my limbs. My body thrums with barely contained power. My hands flinch at my sides.

  “You are mine to do with as I please.” She leans down, pinching my face with her razor-sharp talons. “One way or another, you will fulfill the destiny that’s already set out for you. You are my pawn, Sadie. You don’t control yourself, I do, and you would do well to remember that.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Knots twist in my stomach at her declaration. Her supreme confidence shakes me to the core. Bile rises up my throat. Keeping my expression neutral, I pose a question in a calm manner. “What exactly did you do to me?”

  “Why, Sadie, I thought you’d never ask. You know, your lack of self-preservation is pathetic.” Her constant baiting is starting to wear thin, but I won’t give her the satisfaction of knowing she is getting to me. She opens the clear case and selects two more black discs. Facing the guards, she speaks directly to them. “Retrieve my son. I want him here for this.”

  “As you wish, Supreme Chancellor.” The taller guard bows before ducking out of the room. We sit in silence until he returns five minutes later with a surly Axton in tow. He purposely avoids my gaze, and his dour mood adds to the palpable friction in the room. I try to ready myself for the next curveball.

  Griselda abrasively presses the discs to each of my temples. She throws out one last taunt as the chair elevates and the image starts to load. “You were a dreadfully whiny child. Hideous.” She shivers in feigned disgust. “Really, you should thank me. I saved you from a life of mediocrity.”

  I grit my teeth and studiously ignore her deliberate heckling. Bracing myself, I inhale deeply as I prepare to watch the history of my hidden past.

  I’m a young child, sleeping soundly in my bed, looking warm and contented under my comforter, a fluffy brown teddy bear snuggled into my chest. My sister, Ella, sleeps in the bed opposite me. Griselda and an unknown alien male hover over me, whispering to one another. She bends over, moving her face close to mine. Her lips move as she whispers in my ear. After a short while, she retracts the covers and slips her arms underneath my tiny frame. My head lolls back, and strands of dark hair stream loose as she lifts me up. My teddy plummets to the floor, discarded. Ella stirs, murmuring in her sleep. Griselda freezes on the spot until she settles. The man nods before he jumps into the wormhole. Griselda follows suit with me completely oblivious in her arms.

  I drag in a gulp of air as the scene changes to one that is vaguely more familiar.

  I’m lying on the bed in my room in Political HQ, sobbing my heart out. Axton enters the room, and my head slowly perks up. Although he is
also a child, he looks to be a few years older than I am. His long silver-blond hair is combed neatly off his face, secured in a low ponytail. He wears a stiff black jumpsuit that crinkles noisily when he balances on the edge of the bed. He sends me a happy smile. Scared, I cower in the bed, visibly trembling. “I want my mommy!” My girlish intonation resonates with anguish and pain.

  “It’s going to be okay, Sadie. You will see your mommy again. But now we get to play together. Mother says you will be my special friend. Do you want to be my special friend?” He looks at me earnestly, expectation bubbling under the surface.

  I sniffle. “I don’t know. I miss my mommy.”

  The scene alters again. It’s obvious a few years have passed, as I’ve grown older. I’m ten, give or take a year, I’d guess.

  “I’m not going,” I tell Axton, pouting. “It hurts.”

  “You know you don’t have a choice. What if I stay right by your side the whole time?”

  My frown softens. “Would you?”

  He nudges me. “For you? Of course.”

  I smile shyly. “Okay.” He takes my hand and guides me out of the room.

  The scene fast-forwards.

  I’m lying on an elevated bed surrounded by masked people in sterile white jumpsuits. My hands and feet are strapped down, and a strange metal band wraps around my head keeping it securely in place. I’m violently shaking, clearly terrorized. Axton stands at the top of the bed, holding my hand under my restraints. Worry lines etch his smooth forehead. Griselda barks out instructions from the corner of the room. A machine lowers from the ceiling, drawing closer and closer to my head. Tears leak out of the corners of my eyes as my whole body quakes in fear. I flinch and twitch on the bed, pleading with Axton to release me.

  His eyes beseech his mother, but she stares coldly at him. “Stop your sniveling, Sadie, or I’ll make you,” she instructs.

  Hysteria builds in my eyes and I gulp loudly. The machine snaps into place against the band. A hissing sound fills the silent air, followed by a repetitive clicking noise. A shrill scream rips from my throat as I contort wildly on the bed. My wrists and ankles chafe against the restraints, quickly cutting through skin. A thin layer of blood trickles over my feet. Axton squeezes my hand, his expression a mix of horror and rage.

 

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