Red: A Dystopian World Alien Romance

by S. J. Sanders

  “Based on what?” Lara pushed to the fore, her arms folding over her chest. “So far, all we are hearing is that the Order was supposed to be filled with golden boys to protect us rather than assholes tearing us down, and the Lady Anwar was this benevolent mother figure. Seems a little too good to be true.”

  “The Lady Anwar wasn’t perfect; she was human, after all. But she did genuinely care about the people of the Citadel. All the writings in her journal stressed maintaining the welfare of the people and continuing the path the Mother set before her. Her last entry spoke of bringing new strength to our people and to the Order. She died days later, I suspect before she was able to implement any changes officially.”

  “Ah, and so upon her passing things ran amuck,” Cyrus said.

  “Unfortunately, yes. Without another seer, the Order established one of their own. Soon the First Elite spread word that their seer saw nothing but calamity. Things only got worse when generation after generation of the Anwar line failed to deliver a blood-descended girl. There is no one to dispute the claims of the Order and their seer. As it stands right now, it is only by force that the Order rules. Many people resist and speak against them and their zealous crusades.”

  “I still don’t understand how Arie fits into this. If she is a blood descendant, wouldn’t they be afraid of her having authority that is contrary to their will and that of their seer? Wouldn’t it be easier to kill her?” Kyx asked despite the fury that filled him at the idea of a huntsman slaying their mate.

  “If the First Elite can join with Arie, he will be able to secure the standing of the Order with the general populace. With this power, he can forcibly recruit the few young men we have and our women into serving terms in service of the Order. He will do everything in his power to wipe out what he considers monstrosities.”

  “That wouldn’t be just Ragoru, but also other humans such as the feral ones, the ehurmu, who are as ignorant of your kind as most humans are of theirs,” Warol said.

  Maddi’s lips parted with surprise. “I never imagined that the rumors of mutated feral humans were true. You have seen them?”

  “We have. And we have seen the cruelty of your hunters against them. A female broken, defiled, her genitals torn, and her breasts severed. This is not the work of a people in service of the Mother. The Ragoru know her too as our own, even if we see her differently, and we know the Blessed One and the Fathers would never condone such horrors.”

  “This is why we must destroy the Order. They have strayed too far from their purpose. Their presence is affront to the kindness of the Mother, in the words of the Lady Anwar. I truly believe the prophecy foretold a joining of the Ragoru with humanity. Few children are born, and even among them fewer are males. Humanity is still dying, and the Order will see to it that we will never see the blessings foretold us.”

  “If we take our mate, then they achieve nothing,” Warol growled.

  Maddi turned a cool gaze on the silver male. “And it also wins us nothing. The people will still be under the yoke of the Order and they will continue to prosecute as they see fit with their false seers.”

  All at once, everyone began to speak. Neither Rager nor Warol looked pleased at the suggestion that they not just abscond with their mate, but for the first time Kyx was aware of just how many people in the Guild were female. Even the many dressed as males stepped forward to raise their voices with the multitude. Yet even the few males were in agreement. Everyone was speaking over each other, shouting out their opinions of what should be done. He couldn’t help but want to aid the humans.

  “What are you suggesting?” Rager asked, his voice a deep rumble that silenced the mill of voices.

  “I am suggesting, with Arie’s agreement, that we kill the poisonous head of the Order. Today the First Elite is joining with Arie. The most affluential families that support the Order will be attending, as will the highest ranking among the huntsmen. We use the ceremony as our opportunity to strike.”

  “If we do this, if we aid you, do you guarantee we will be able to depart with our mate?”

  “I will not only guarantee it, but I fully support it. Arie deserves to be happy. I just ask that she stand just once before the people of the Citadel to affirm her place with you, and sign documents which will usher in a new dawn for our species. Although Arie claims to have none of the sight, I believe the fact that she found you was destined by the hand of the Mother.”

  “Very well,” Rager said with an inclination of his head.

  Cyrus slapped his hands together happily. “Well now, since that has been taken care of, tell me, Mistress Maddi, when do we strike?”

  The Ragoru pushed closer among the humans to listen attentively as Maddi sketched out her plan in the dirt. The mansion was hidden amid mass gardens and other mansions, but it would be no feat for the Ragoru to access. Even the Guild seemed unperturbed by the obstacles, their faces alight with interest.

  An eager anticipation flowed through Kyx’s veins. Soon he would be reunited with Arie, and never again would his triad be separated from their mate.

  34

  Arie was dreaming. She was aware of that fact but didn’t want it to end. She wanted to pretend that she was there again with her mates, even if it meant living in her memories. It was the day after the Withering Days had concluded and she was stretched out on her belly, the soft fur beneath her tickling her skin. Warol lay beside her, two of his hands buried in her hair playing with the long lengths. She smiled sleepily up at him.

  “Your hair is so beautiful,” he murmured, flicking the end of a lock across her cheek.

  She laughed. “Are you sure the sight of it doesn’t make you feel a murderous rage?” Warol gave her an odd look and she laughed even harder. “Among humans it is believed that bright colors, but especially red, causes the Ragoru to attack.” She hooked her fingers into claws and made a ferocious face.

  He shook his head in amusement. “Is that why you were hiding in your hood when we met?” She felt embarrassed. She’d assumed that her triad chose to ignore their instinctive impulses. “No, my beautiful Red Arie. Red may draw our attention, but not for any of those reasons. It is because we hold the color to be holy. It is the color of life. The first flowers of spring on our homeworld were the brightest red. We called it Mother’s Blood for the first blood of fertility and bearing new life. The rising and setting sun is red. We consider any red to be blessed. For the color of his fur, Kyx could have had his choice of triads he could have joined.”

  She frowned. “Doesn’t that strike you as a bit… wrong? Rager is cast aside because of his pitch coloring, but Kyx is elevated for his. That doesn’t seem fair.”

  Warol smiled sadly. “It is not right—you are correct. Darkness is connected to the shades of the dead and many Ragoru fear it, but I always considered that too a blessing, depending on how you look at it. Red may be life and black is the world of the dead, but I do not curse my ancestors. I look to them for guidance and hope that my beloved family, who now walk as shades in the next world, are looking upon me with favor.”

  She settled in closer to her mate. “I think that is a wonderful way to look at it.” She pulled back and narrowed her eyes playfully. “You don’t just love me for my hair, do you?”

  He chuffed again and pulled her beneath him. “I would love you even if you had not a hair in your mane. Your form is already oddly bald. But if you need reminding of just how much I love you, maybe I need to show you and refresh your memory.”

  They made love with the sound of the snow blowing outside the cave entrance. At some point, Rager and Kyx had woken up and gotten into the action, and the four of them were together, a mesh of bodies. She never wanted it to end. She never wanted spring to come and bring the huntsmen to their hiding place.

  Better to relive the sweet days of winter when they had each other.

  Arie woke with the sunlight creeping into her room and tear tracks on her face. One hand instinctively went up to her head and felt the sharp
stubble on her scalp even as her eyes adjusted to the morning light and her waking mind became aware once more of where she was. Spring had come with the huntsmen, Kyx was dead and she was her grandmother’s pawn. Tears slid down her cheeks faster and she wept until her face was swollen, her nose blocked, and her throat raw.

  After that, Arie had no sense of how much time had passed. Hours, she knew. She’d watched the morning rise and the sunlight shift through the bars as the sun traveled through the sky. She supposed it didn’t matter. She couldn’t ignore the ugly little voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like the girls she’d grown up with. She thought she’d long ago banished it to oblivion, but it had returned and fed off her sorrow. It whispered with hateful, dulcet tones, laughing as it danced about merrily in her imagination.

  No one would coming for her. Kyx was dead, and Rager and Warol forgot about her. Maddi was likely dead as well. Even the babe growing in her womb was doomed before it was even born and would never be held in her arms. Her life was now one terrible march toward a future filled with pain, regret, and grief. The voice mocked her, asking her what else did she expect, having been cursed from birth?

  Arie shook her head angrily, her fury rising like a wave, pushing the voice away. That was not her. She was not cursed. She’d known love and happiness, and nothing about the future was determined yet. Her mates were looking for her, needing her as much as she needed them. They would never give up, and she would never just lie down and submit.

  No matter how long it took, no matter the outcome, she would never be less than a thorn pricking at those who thought to subdue her.

  The lock on the door rattled and her grandmother stepped through, her sharp features and dark widow’s attire making her appear more like a raven, or perhaps a buzzard, as she glided across the room with dire purpose in her eyes. Lady Vera’s pupils were blown wide with an odd fervor, and fever-bright despite the shadows around her eyes that no amount of face paint could hide. It seemed her grandmother was teetering at the edge of mental stability.

  Arie cracked a wolfish smile, her dry lips splitting painfully. “My grandmother, what big eyes you have.”

  “Do not start any foolishness with me,” Lady Vera snapped. “Soon I will be rid of you and have achieved everything I have ever wanted. I will be celebrated and honored in this Citadel rather than a has-been widow forgotten by my peers. As if any of them would have been anything without me,” she sneered, her fingers clenching tightly on her cane. “Time to remind them exactly who I am. The Lady Anwar has arrived through me, and me alone. No other Anwar wife accomplished what I did. None bore a girl. But the Mother blessed me!”

  Arie snorted. “Yet this blessing, your only daughter, ran away from you as soon as she got the opportunity. She did not bare her neck and submit to your plans. She joined with a commoner and hid from you on the other side of the great woods. Even I you have to chain down to gain cooperation to your bidding. And I will escape you when my moment has come. In truth, you are nothing. You have abused the gifts from the Mother by your own greed. You are a ravenous wolf hiding in women’s clothing.”

  The end of her grandmother’s cane struck the floor with a sharp rap. “I was chosen to unite the will of the Mother and the Anwar family with the Order. It was my destiny!” Vera shouted with fury.

  Arie’s laughter grew louder. “Wrong! Foolish woman, the Mother used you to destroy the Order!”

  “Enough! I have had enough of this blasphemy!” Her grandmother composed herself and smirked down at Arie. “I am here for a reason, not to play word games with you or bear your insults. The time has come for your joining. It is a proud moment for you. One I hope you remember well for the rest of your life.”

  She rapped her cane twice on the floor and the maids who’d doubtlessly been waiting on the other side of the door for her signal scrambled in with their arms laden. They carried pots of face paint, a fine crimson bridal dress, and armfuls of flowers. Arie glared at the dress and seethed. The world feared all things red, rejecting and casting out their own people for a color they considered unfortunate. Yet even the ugly superstition that rose with the coming of the Ragoru couldn’t outweigh the tradition of wearing the color of the Mother in the joining ceremony. Her grandmother noted the direction of her gaze and smiled.

  “Amusing, isn’t it, that today the color that has been a bane in your life will be one that ties you unequivocally with the Order. The color is a curse on us all, but on this one occasion the terrible hue is one of sanctity and blessings of the Mother.”

  “People are foolish then if they speak at one moment that a color is sacred and that it is cursed in the next moment,” Arie said.

  Lady Vera shrugged as the maids brought bowls of steaming water scented with floral oils. Arie’s nightgown was stripped from her, and they began the arduous task of bathing their unwilling bride.

  “The seer of the Order has been clear on the reason for it. That it offends the Mother for the color to be shown by any except on the holy days of joining. It is for this reason she makes it irresistible to the Ragoru and gives them leave to attack any who dare to wear red tresses or cloth.”

  “Surely that makes the Ragoru children of the Mother.”

  “We are all children of the Mother, but some are favored, and others are but a tool to test us and ultimately be destroyed as we rise in Her favor,” Edwar stated coolly from the doorway.

  “That is the stupidest, most ignorant thing I have ever heard,” Arie returned.

  A darkness came over Edwar’s face as he leaned forward and wrapped his long fingers around her neck. He pressed his fingers and suddenly she couldn’t breathe. She thrashed from side to side, her one free hand clawing at his fingers. A sadistic grin stretched over his lips as he watched her slowly suffocate. Black spots swam before her vision when he released her. She drew in a tortured breath as he leaned in closer so that his lips brushed her ear.

  “You will learn to obey, wife. A woman who does not obey is one who is punished. Believe me when I say I can afflict great punishment on you without leaving a mark where anyone in passing will see it.”

  Edwar stood up and fixed his red marital jacket, his smile once again one of cool charm. “Get her ready,” he directed the maids. “The ceremony will begin upon the hour. Now if you will excuse me, Lady Vera, I have things to see to before the joining.”

  He bowed low and Arie watched her grandmother flush with pleasure and curtsy as he strode by. She was still smiling at the closed door when one of the maids cleared her throat.

  “Yes, what is it?” Vera snapped.

  “Ma’am, it would be easier to get ready if the miss was unshackled,” the maid whispered, her eyes firmly on the ground.

  Vera sighed. “I suppose we must release the little beast if we are going to get anywhere today.” She left no doubt in Arie’s mind exactly what her grandmother thought of her if she hadn’t had a good idea already. In her grandmother’s mind, she was no better than an animal.

  Arie couldn’t help but ask, “Why do you call me that? I am not a beast. I am your granddaughter. I would have thought my own grandmother would have had some compassion and caring for me.”

  Her grandmother halted at her bedside; her lips pinched together angrily. “You are the unwanted spawn of the mongrel of a man who wed my daughter against my wishes. The only saving grace is that you were born a woman instead of a man, and therefore of some use to me. I have been celebrated for all the sons I have born when sons are rare, but among all women there is only you who is Lady Anwar. That you chose to mate and breed with monsters makes it clear that you are as much an unnatural creature as that thing within your womb, but at least I have a use for you.”

  Arie met her grandmother’s pitiless eyes that looked as hard as chips of onyx at that moment. In those depths, an image flashed. Arie saw her grandmother standing alone, and all around her the sons she’d born lay dead, with nothing but her own sorrow for company. Arie shook her head. “You are a hateful
woman, Grandmother. I almost pity you, because at the end of all things you will have nothing but the graves of your progeny stretched out before you.”

  Vera froze and then her face twisted. “Cruel, awful girl. You would wish something like that upon me?”

  “Perhaps in truth I am your granddaughter then, for any cruelty must surely have been bred true since you are the epitome of it, with every action you have done against my person.”

  “If not for me, you would have been taken to the village and sentenced. You should be grateful for my intercession.”

  “I am not so certain that would have been a worse fate!”

  Arie watched her grandmother’s face go rigid but she said nothing as she pulled a key out of her pocket and approached the bed. The guards by the door instantly became alert, no doubt instructed to take extra caution once she was released. Arie smiled grimly at the thought. With a twist of the key the shackle released, and she rubbed the feeling back into her wrist as she stood. She steeled herself as the maids approached, her eyes never leaving the crimson dress that seemed to shine as an unhappy beacon.

  35

  Rager looked up at the large dwelling in the fading light of the day. He marveled at the human excess that felt such a den was necessary, but he couldn’t ignore its grandeur, just as he couldn’t ignore the comforts of the human Citadel. While he knew from Arie that life in the sanctuary villages wasn’t one of ease, he wondered if their mate would even willingly leave the Citadel for the simple life of their den. Warol jabbed him with both of his left-side elbows, pulling him out of his morose thoughts.

  His brother nodded his head at the high wall in front of them. It had taken absurdly little work to leap the property fence, and although the den itself seemed to reach into the heavens, Rager knew it would take little effort to scale. His task was to infiltrate from a higher window to descend upon the ceremony while the Guild burst through the doorway with Warol and Kyx. They would effectively have the huntsmen trapped between them. He only had to make sure he wasn’t seen.