by Presley Hall
This woman is, in a way, lucky that the worst thing she encountered was a trap. If she’d run into one of those creatures, there would have been nothing left for me to find.
I’m loath to patronize pretty much any business on this planet, since almost every single place on Nierra is tied to the slave trade in some way, but my options are limited. The escape pod that brought me back here when my fellow warriors left with the other Terran women had a rough landing, so it won’t work as either a shelter or a way off the planet.
I’ve learned the city’s basic layout, and I know that there’s a healer in one of the sketchiest parts of Tanu. It’s a place where, for enough tokens, you can rent a healing pod without any record of having been there. Smugglers often bring slaves that are too badly injured to sell and have them “repaired” before putting them up for auction.
The proprietor of the place looks at me suspiciously when I walk in. I keep my face impassive. I need to make it look as if I don’t care about the Terran woman, as if she’s my property rather than someone I’m trying desperately to save. Everything in me rebels at the idea of pretending to own a slave—it’s abhorrent to me in every respect—but I know the man will be less suspicious of us that way.
“I need this woman fixed up as quickly as possible,” I tell him. “I have tokens to pay for a pod for as long as it takes. She’s very beautiful, but unless she’s healed, I won’t be able to sell her for what she’s worth.”
The words taste bitter coming out of my mouth, and I wish I’d never had to speak them. But the proprietor relaxes as I speak, nodding as if he’s heard the same story a hundred times before.
“I’ll need a multi-language implant for her as well,” I add. “She’ll be worth more if she comes with the ability to understand orders.”
I need to be able to speak to her once she wakes up—if she makes it through the healing process. Getting her off Nierra and back to Kalix in one piece will be a great deal simpler if we can communicate.
The man names a price for the pod rental and the translator chip, and I wince. It’s going to take most of the tokens I have, and I grimace a little as I dig in the pocket of my coat and hand them over.
This is going to complicate us getting off the planet considerably. Now I won’t have enough money to buy passage, and I’m still going to have to find lodging and food for us until I can figure out how to get out of here.
Why did you have to go and get yourself hurt? I think ruefully as I carry the woman to the small room where the pods are kept.
She doesn’t answer, of course. And in truth, it doesn’t matter. What’s done is done, and nothing in this moment is more important than getting her healed.
I don’t have a key for the manacles that bind her, but I manage to break them, carefully using the hilt of my dagger to break the shackles off without injuring her further. I throw them into the farthest corner of the small room, not wanting to look at them any longer.
Her wrists are bleeding and scraped from where the shackles have chafed at her skin, and I wince when I look at it. They’ll be healed once the pod does its work, but seeing her fragile skin harmed like that makes me murderously angry.
I carefully unwrap my coat from around her limp body, sliding the damp slip off her thin frame before laying her in the pod. She’s wearing nothing now except for a small scrap of undergarment that barely covers her between her legs, and I realize all over again how lovely she is, even frail and unwashed.
But her leg captures my attention above anything else.
It’s a vicious injury, the flesh shredded and the bone clearly broken. Worry flares inside of me as I begin to attach the wires in the pod to the appropriate places on her body, and I clench my jaw.
It doesn’t look as bad as the injury our mission leader, Druxik, sustained on the journey to Nierra. At least, I hope it’s not. As I finish setting up the mechanisms and close the pod, I silently pray to the gods that I’m right in that assessment. If she loses the leg, there’s no one here to fix that. I don’t have any of the tech that Osynth used to create a prosthetic limb for Druxik.
I’ve never felt fear like this for another person in my life. I don’t even know her name, but this woman is my entire reason for being on this planet.
As I settle in to watch her, the same prayer repeats over and over in my mind.
Please let the healing pod work. Please don’t let me have failed in my mission already.
Please.
5
Brooke
Slowly, very slowly, consciousness begins to return.
The first sensation I’m aware of is the strange feeling of being enclosed. My nostrils flare, taking in the clean, antiseptic smell all around me. As I open my eyes groggily, I vaguely remember pain and cold, and I realize that those sensations are gone. There’s soreness all through my body, but I’m warm and lying on some kind of firm pad.
I blink, licking my chapped and dry lips as my surroundings start to come into focus.
There’s a clear plexiglass-type dome over me, and several wires are protruding from my skin. I start to sit up, pushing at the dome, and that’s when I see him. The bronze-skinned alien who was at the auction is hovering over me, his handsome face creased with what looks like… worry? Concern?
A flood of memories come rushing back all at once. The auction, the awful blob-like alien who was going to use me as his sex slave, my determination to get away, kicking him and striking him with the chain.
I remember getting away from the guards and going through the hole in the wall—and then the trap that I stepped in, and the blinding, awful pain.
My leg was broken.
But when I peer down the length of my body, I see that my leg looks whole, only a thin pink scar marking the spot where the skin was shredded and torn before.
As I grapple with the shock of that discovery, the bronze alien presses a button on the outside of the dome. With a hiss, the mechanism holding the dome shut releases.
A sudden surge of adrenaline rushes through me, and I shove the top of the pod upward, lurching out of it with only one thought in my mind—I have to run. I have to get away.
The pads attached to the wires yank free of my skin as I leap out, and I yelp with pain, but I don’t let it stop me. I’m unchained now, and I plan to take full advantage of that fact. The bronze-skinned alien grabs my elbow, pulling me back toward him, and I whirl around, using the best tactic I have for getting free of men—I try to knee him in the balls again. It’s worked twice so far, and I see no reason to start changing things up now.
Except he’s not caught off guard this time. He blocks me smoothly, cocking a brow as he grabs my other wrist. I flinch, expecting pain from the wounds where the shackles were, but then I realize with shock that my skin is healed there too, as unblemished as it was before I was captured.
What the hell? What kind of insane tech is in that pod thing?
I don’t have time to wonder about it as I kick at the bronze-skinned alien again. This time, I aim for his knee. The blow connects, and he lets out a grunt of pain, stumbling sideways with my wrists still caught in his big hands.
We both lose our balance and go down, and he twists in mid-air to land beneath me, letting out a grunt as we hit the floor. Then he rolls me onto my back, pinning my wrists over my head as his body settles over mine.
“You don’t have to run from me,” he says, his deep voice as smooth and rich as melted chocolate. “Or fight me. I mean you no harm, I promise. I’m just trying to help you.”
Twisting beneath him, I try to struggle free of his grip. Then I freeze.
“I—” My mouth drops open as I blink up at him. “I can understand what you’re saying now!”
“Yes. And I can understand you too,” he says with a grin. There’s something cocky and warm about it, the way one side of his lips curves higher than the other. “I bought a multi-language implant for you when I brought you here and set it up for the pod to insert it while it was healing
you.” He pauses, his expression turning serious. “You were in very bad condition when I brought you here. I was afraid you might not survive.”
I swallow, remembering the vague sensation of a warm body and strong arms carrying me, the deep voice that I heard above me as I faded in and out of consciousness. It seemed like a dream, or maybe whatever happens between this life and the next—but now I realize that it was all real.
It was him. He rescued me after all.
“After the guards pulled you off the loading dock, our ship left,” he begins to explain, probably noticing the confusion in my face. “Our commander, Druxik, couldn’t risk the other women being recaptured as well, and he was right to get them to safety. But I took one of the escape pods and came back here. I went to the auction to find you and rescue you. It made more sense to do it after you’d been sold, away from the eyes of the crowd. But then you tried to get away on your own, and—” He grimaces. “You ran off, and I lost you. I was lucky to find you when I did.”
I stare up at him, shocked into complete silence. It dawns on me the risks that he took to come back here—that he broke command and defied his leader in order to return and try to rescue me.
Who would do something like that for someone they don’t even know? Why on earth does he care so much about whether I’m enslaved or not?
And then, as he leans over me, I realize how very close his face is to mine. He’s incredibly handsome, his jet black hair falling around his face and his horns curving close to his head. His eyes are a very dark blue, almost black, with flecks of silver shot through them.
Like stars in a night sky, I think dazedly, and then shake my head in disbelief that I just thought something so ridiculous.
He’s still on top of me, the muscles in his arms flexing as he holds my wrists, and I’m suddenly very aware of his warmth and scent. His skin smells faintly like almonds, and I fight the sudden urge to inhale deeply and draw more of it into my nostrils.
Who the hell is this man?
And why does the weight of his large frame braced over mine feel strangely… good?
6
Zhori
As the Terran woman stares up at me with her soft blue eyes, I feel her body relax slightly. I think maybe she’s beginning to trust me a little, and I’m grateful for that. She seems to believe what I’ve told her, at least, and that will go a long way toward making this rescue attempt possible.
I gaze back at her, meeting her eyes as I take in every expression that crosses her face.
There are so many emotions there. Confusion, fear, gratitude… and something else too. Something I don’t quite understand.
Her skin is soft against mine, warm from her time spent in the pod, and her small breasts are pressed against my chest. I have a sudden urge to run my hands over her curves, to explore every inch of her, but I quickly push those thoughts out of my head.
I’m not here for that.
I came back to Nierra to save her from the slavers who planned to sell her. To protect her.
After several heartbeats, she blinks, sucking in a breath. She shakes her head firmly as if to clear it and pulls at my grasp on her wrists. Realizing that I’ve still got her pinned beneath me, I quickly let her go, standing up and extending a hand to help her up. I shouldn’t have kept her down on the floor that long, but something in me couldn’t quite move with her looking at me like that.
Now that she’s standing in front of me, I’m reminded sharply of the fact that she’s naked. The brush of her skin against mine was enough to heat my blood more than a little, and it takes everything in me to keep my gaze pinned on her face and not let it wander over every inch of her body.
She glances down at herself and yelps softly, her arms automatically crossing over her breasts to hide them. When she sees the slip that she was wearing tossed over the back of a chair, she turns to grab it, her face flaming with what looks like embarrassment.
Of course. I remember learning that Terrans prefer to be clothed, considering nudity to be something very private.
It makes no sense to me, but I don’t want her to be uncomfortable. Still, her slip is covered with dirt and dried blood, and she flinches back before touching it, blanching visibly at how crusted with blood it is.
Knowing she won’t want to put it back on—no one would—I grab my coat and throw it over her shoulders so that she can cover herself.
She seems startled by the action, her body tensing, but she grabs the edges of the thick coat and pulls it tightly around herself. She looks very small in the folds of it, and the hem drags along the floor. It’s almost cute, and I can’t help but smile as she looks at me, seeming slightly less embarrassed now.
“I’ll have to get you some new clothes,” I tell her. Now that she’s not trying to run away from me, I can explain to her what’s going on in more depth. I gesture to the chair. “Perhaps you should sit for a moment. The pod healed you, but it often takes a little while to feel completely like yourself again after undergoing an extensive healing process.”
She nods, sinking into the chair and pushing her dirty hair out of her face.
“Let’s start with introductions.” There’s another rickety chair in the room, and I pull it over to sit in front of her. I don’t want to loom over her or make her feel afraid in any way. “I’m Zhori. I hope you remember me. I was a part of the team of Kalixians who came to rescue you and the other Terran women.”
“Terran?” She peers at me, her face wrinkling.
“People from Terra. You call it Earth.”
“Oh.” She chews on her lower lip for a moment, then draws in a breath. “I’m Brooke. I was a—a waitress. On Earth. Until I became a slave.”
The last words are tinged with bitterness, and I press my lips together as anger heats my blood all over again.
“You were a slave. No longer,” I tell her firmly. “I promise you that much, Brooke. You won’t be enslaved again as long as I am alive to prevent it. I told you that I was here to rescue you, and I meant that. But—” I pause, running a hand over my jaw. “Since it’s only me now, and not the rest of my team, things are going to be a bit more difficult. We’re also short on funds. I spent a good portion of the tokens I had on the language implant and on the pod to heal you.”
She blinks, her eyebrows jerking upward slightly. “Oh,” she murmurs. “I’m sorry. But… thank you for that.”
“There’s no need to apologize.” I shake my head. “Or to thank me. I came here to save you, and that includes healing your injury. It was never a question for me, whether to spend the money on the pod or not. But we’ll have to adjust the plan a little now.”
Worry flares in her eyes, and I hold up a hand.
“There’s still a way to get off Nierra,” I assure her quickly. “But it’s slightly more complicated. We’ll need to barter for a ride off-planet. That will take some doing, and as long as we’re in this city, we’re going to have to be very careful. We won’t be safe until we leave. Savyiek—the alien who purchased you—isn’t going to take your loss or the injuries to himself and his bodyguards lightly. But we can try to stay under the radar so that he doesn’t find us.”
Brooke says nothing, watching me intently. I frown, remembering what I told the proprietor when I arrived here: that she was my slave. I don’t want to continue that particular ruse, but there are limited options when it comes to how to keep her under my protection here. I grimace as I lean forward, bracing my elbows on my knees.
“For your safety, it’s best that everyone we encounter on Nierra believes you’re with me—that you are mine. There are only two options for bonds that will convince others to leave you alone. You can pretend to be my mate, my Irisa. Or you can pretend to be my slave.”
My lip curls as I say the last word, and Brooke tightens the coat around her body as if trying to shield herself from the fate that almost befell her.
“I know what that last part means,” she says slowly. “But what do you mean by ‘mate’?”
“The mate bond is fated by the gods,” I explain. “It is permanent and inviolable. If you are believed to be my mate, then others will think that I have claimed you, and only the most reckless or powerful slavers would touch you. It’s widely considered too dangerous and not worth it to steal a mated woman among the species that believe such things, as a mated male will stop at nothing to get his Irisa back.”
Her eyes widen. “Will pretending we’re mated make that alien—Savyiek—leave me alone?”
“It’s doubtful. He’s seems wealthy and powerful enough not to be dissuaded by something like that. But for the most part, when it comes to the general population of Tanu and those with whom we’ll try to barter for passage, you’ll be safe. Or… there’s the other option. I know you understand that one.”
Brooke winces, paling visibly. She looked skeptical as I described the basics of a mate bond, and I can’t help but wonder what she would think if I explained to her what a Kalixian bond is really like, how powerful and intimate it’s said to be.
She frowns, obviously more than a little unsettled by both options.
“I guess I’ll pretend to be your mate,” she says finally, twisting her fingers together. “I don’t want to even pretend to be a slave.” She rubs at her wrists, glaring down at the spot where the manacles once wrapped around them. “I’ve had enough of that. More than enough.”
I nod, relief washing through me at her choice. The last thing I want is to have to pretend for days to be a slaveowner. Even the thought makes me disgusted and angry. But I wanted her to have a choice, not to feel forced into pretending the intimacy of being my mate.
“Let’s go, then,” I tell her, standing up smoothly. “Nowhere in Tanu is particularly safe, but we’re in one of the worst parts of the city. Let’s try to get closer to the market quarter and find some lodging. I think we both need rest. We’ll make a more detailed plan once we’ve secured a place to stay and gotten some food.”