Krygor’s Hope: Braxians 3

by Abel, Regine

  To my relief, despite his seething anger, Krygor didn’t argue and complied. We all followed in his wake. Minutes later, we felt the slight tremor of another ship docking with us. Heart pounding into my throat, I slipped a shaky hand into Krygor’s, who gently squeezed it in a reassuring gesture. Siona leaned against him on his right side, while he wrapped a protective arm over her shoulders. Yulan and Zartag flanked us.

  As per the ship’s artificial intelligence’s instructions, we had taken position at the back of the hold. My heart leapt in my chest when its doors opened with a soft hiss revealing Faolen, surrounded by what looked like two dozen Sarenians armed to the teeth. As soon as they entered, Faolen’s men fanned around the room, weapons drawn and trained on us—or more precisely on the three Braxians.

  My blood ran cold at the sight of our kidnapper in the flesh. I knew this man. I didn’t know how, but I most definitely did. Everything about him screamed familiarity and danger. I shuddered and pressed myself against Krygor. My giant let go of my hand to protectively draw me to him, his strong hand resting on my hip. Although I drew strength from him, the minute Faolen would start speaking, every cell in my being screamed that a rift would be created between all of us. It made no sense, but I strongly believed it, and it nearly choked me with fear.

  “Krygor Aldriss,” Faolen said with that soft, sultry, yet very manly voice that I would have found extremely seductive under different circumstances. “You are even more impressive than in my memory.”

  “But apparently not enough to stop this foolish plan of yours,” Krygor responded with a harsh tone.

  “Believe me, Clan Leader, I think my clients are fools to go after you, but it is not my job to question motives. I merely execute the contracts given to me. And you, Councilor, are about to make me very wealthy. I might even consider retiring after this one.” His gaze flicked to my daughter, giving her a quick, approving once over before turning towards me. His midnight blue eyes slightly darkened, and a soft, seductive smile stretched his sensual lips. “After all, I will soon go through drortak—my final molt—at which point I will settle down with a mate.”

  The intensity of his stare left no mystery as to his underlying meaning. I shuddered as Krygor’s arm tightened possessively around me, and a menacing growl rose from his throat.

  “You have much bigger problems to worry about than these two females,” Faolen said with an almost apologetic expression. “Whatever your thoughts about Sarenians, and regardless of tensions between our peoples, we treat our females well. They may not think so right now, but Hope and her daughter will be happy with us.”

  “No, we won’t! We want nothing to do with you!” I exclaimed.

  “Oh, my Beauty,” Faolen said, as one would speak to a naughty child. “Come to me, Hope.”

  My body seized as he spoke the words with a vibrating voice. In that instant, despite having no memory of hearing it before, I knew beyond any doubt that I had.

  Goddess, what did I do? What did he make me do?

  Against my will, my feet moved forward. Refusing to let go, Krygor yanked me back against him. I pushed back for him to free me, while shaking my head with a pleading look on my face. Words failed me to tell him this was all happening against my will. But a series of blue light dots appearing all over Krygor’s body indicated the Sarenians had turned on their tactical aiming lasers.

  “Let her go, Braxian. You can’t win this one,” Faolen said in an almost bored voice. “I would rather not have my men shoot. You will find our stuns are highly unpleasant.”

  Seething, Krygor let go, murder burning in his eyes. With the stiffness of a machine, I marched to Faolen, calling onto my anger to keep me anchored. The way he looked at me with genuine awe—or at least genuine in appearance—both fueled my anger and confused me. The Sarenian gazed upon me like someone with a serious infatuation. There was a time, I would have wished for such attentions, but not now.

  When I stopped a couple of feet before him, Faolen raised a hand towards my face. I jerked my head back in disgust.

  “Stop, stay still,” he immediately said, compelling me with that vibrating voice I couldn’t resist. My anger rose another notch, feeling violated to have my body thus forced to act against my will. “My Beauty,” Faolen whispered, his fingers caressing my horns with an air of wonder on his face. “I must thank you, Clan Leader for restoring Hope. She was stunning before, but now she’s pure perfection. Do not fear for her. I will love her well.”

  “I do not want you!” I shouted while my body still remained where it stood.

  “In due time, you will, my Beauty,” Faolen said, caressing my cheek with his knuckles.

  “I will kill you if you touch my mate,” Krygor said with a voice so chilling, cold shivers ran down my spine.

  “No, Clan Leader, she is soon to be my mate,” Faolen responded. “As for the delightful little Siona, the Prince is quite eager to make your acquaintance. Somehow, I suspect he might make you his consort.”

  “She’s a child!” I shouted, fighting in vain the compulsion that kept me from clawing at his beautiful face.

  “In two weeks, she will be twelve, which means she’s come of age,” Faolen said with a shrug in that reasonable tone that implied his comment was logical and irrefutable.

  “You want to give my daughter to some sick pervert who wants to force himself on a child. No planet but yours deems twelve to be age of consent,” I argued with rage.

  “That sixteen or eighteen years of age is a nonsensical rule established by adults to control their offspring because you do not have a proper system to raise children,” Faolen said, starting to sound slightly annoyed. “Siona has already blossomed, because her body knows she’s ready. And the Prince is fifteen, of an age with your daughter. Below the age of twenty-one, we have a three-year age difference cap for matings.”

  Although I still didn’t want my child forced into something she wasn’t ready for, and especially not under duress, a huge wave of relief washed over me knowing I’d been mistaken as to the type of male they’d intended for her.

  “But—”

  “Hush, my Beauty,” Faolen gently said with his vibrating voice, interrupting me. “There will be plenty of time for us to discuss the ways of my people—soon to be your people—before Siona’s Mating Hunt.” I watched helplessly as he turned to my daughter before addressing her with his vibrating voice. “Come to me, Siona. Quietly.”

  His eyes flashed with a soft, bluish glow. Although it hadn’t happened to me just now, I recognized the effect. That sealed whatever doubt I still had about having been subjected to his mesmerizing ability before. Of what little I knew about Sarenian, the flash established the binding link between the Sarenian and his target.

  Despite her visible will to protest, Siona approached, compelled to obey. For a moment, I feared the hatred in her eyes would stir Faolen’s ire, but he merely smiled, seeming more impressed by her spirited nature than irritated.

  “I am glad you are not some meek little sheep. The Prince will love you,” Faolen said in an amused voice before switching back to his vibrating one. “Go to the docking bay with your mother and get onboard the shuttle. You will wait patiently for me there. You will also not cause any trouble or attempt to flee. Once you’ve settled in the shuttle, you may speak with each other. Go now, my loves.”

  Unable to resist the command, I looked at Krygor over my shoulder as we marched stiffly out of the hold. His dark gaze locked with mine. Despite the fury marking his strong features, the contempt and condemnation I’d expected were nowhere to be found in his obsidian eyes. Instead, a possessive and determined glimmer shone bright within them. We were his, and my giant wouldn’t stop until he had us safely back by his side. That, too, gave me strength.

  I hated that Faolen had separated us and could only surmise he wanted to discuss certain things with Krygor in our absence. What could it possibly be? Who hated Krygor with such passion as to risk the wrath of the entire Braxian empire? Yet, as
much as I feared for my man, it reassured me to know Faolen wouldn’t harm him, at least for now. He’d had ample opportunities to kill the men without hurting Siona or me when they tampered with the ship. That Faolen hadn’t done so confirmed he wanted them alive and in good condition.

  When we reached the docking bay, two more Sarenians were standing guard by the hatch leading into their own vessel. Like Faolen and his men, these two males were ridiculously handsome. But then, the Sarenian species as a whole was reputed to be gorgeous. One of them waved us forward, inviting us to enter the hatch into the large shuttle.

  To my relief, Siona didn’t seem scared, only angry. She took my hand and might as well have been the one leading me in, such was her determination. Once inside, we were taken to the front cabin where we settled into comfortable white leather seats with black accents. The seatbelts automatically wrapped around us. The Sarenian touched a wand-like short device to the buckle of our belts, and the white light on them turned red. I didn’t need him to tell me he’d just locked us in. After giving me an appreciative once over, and a curious one to my daughter, the Sarenian left us without a word.

  As soon as he was gone, and despite the seatbelts restraining us, Siona leaned over to give me a half-hug and then looked me straight in the eyes with a stubborn expression.

  “Don’t be scared, Mama. Papa will find a way to free us,” she said in a firm voice.

  “Yes, sweetheart. He will.”

  But even as I said those words, I addressed a silent prayer to the Goddess that she make them come true.

  * * *

  It took nearly ten minutes before Faolen and his men joined us on the shuttle. Although I didn’t see Krygor and his clansmen, I had no reason to doubt they had been in the back cabin with the other Sarenians. We completed the flight to the surface in silence. For most of its duration, Faolen sat in the copilot’s chair, having an intense conversation on his com in his mother tongue. The lack of stress or tension seemed to indicate he was merely coordinating things for our impending arrival.

  As soon as we landed, he took Siona and me out of the shuttle and directly into a fancy hovercar that awaited us right next to the landing pad. I twisted my neck in vain to catch a glimpse of Krygor or his men, but no one else had come out of the shuttle by the time our vehicle took off.

  “Where are you taking us?” I asked at last, holding Siona close to me.

  Faolan, sitting facing us, casually crossed his legs and tilted his head to the side with a gentle smile.

  “We’re going to your new, temporary home: the Serail of Deleo, our Capital City,” Faolan said kindly. “You will be given private quarters in the Atrium, a quiet space reserved for Nymphs such as you both. The Siren Gatina has been assigned to your care and will provide you with mentoring and guidance in preparation for the Hunt.”

  “Nymphs?” I asked, confused.

  “Gatina will explain everything,” Faolen replied.

  “What are you going to do to Krygor?” I asked, my voice accusing.

  Faolen gave me a sad smile. “I’m afraid you will see for yourself what will happen to the Braxian,” he said with an apologetic expression. “His fate is not in my hands. But I think Juntel is a fool for pursuing this. You will understand soon enough.”

  His furtive glance at Siona made it clear he didn’t want to go into details in her presence. I almost pressed the issue, but considering what terrible things Sarenians considered normal, the Goddess only knew what he was withholding.

  Faolen then launched into a description of our surroundings, pointing out a few landmarks, and sharing anecdotes about them and the city. I considered telling him we weren’t here on a fucking sightseeing trip but chose to hold my tongue. Antagonizing him would not benefit us in any way, and I wanted to spare Siona from any additional stress. Under different circumstances, I would have enjoyed discovering this new world that most people knew so little about due to their bad standing with the Galactic Alliance.

  I half-listened to him while my gaze roamed over the city. The architecture blended a clever mix of hard and soft lines. White and silver dominated, with black accents and glowing blue swirling ornaments. Most buildings were no more than three stories high, but they spread long and wide. Stunning landscaped gardens surrounded them, with trees, bushes, and tall flowers whose leaves and petals all boasted varying shades of blue from light pastels to bright navies and deep midnight hues. Interspersed among them, bright specks of red and yellow flowers made them alive.

  While a majority of males padded along the streets—most of them wearing nothing but sandals and a long, flowy white skirt—a number of females could also be seen, the majority Sarenians with a sprinkle of other species, mainly humans and Aveans. Just like the males, the females were all stunning. They wore sinfully short, sleeveless dresses with plunging necklines that dipped right beneath their navels, giving naughty glimpses of the round curves of their breasts. Each of the females wore an armband on their right upper arm, some of them displaying a glowing gem of varying color, while the band of others had an empty socket where the gem should have been. The armbands themselves came in two colors—at least that I could see—silver and black.

  “You will get one, too,” Faolan said, as if he’d read my mind, which technically Sarenians couldn’t do.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “A mating band,” he explained casually. “The black one indicates a Temptress. The silver band indicates a Siren. As Nymphs, you both will receive a white one. The gem means you’ve been claimed and are currently the concubine of a Hunter. The gem’s color corresponds to the Hunter’s status within our society. It is also shaped according to his house’s sigil. But Gatina will be able to give you more details about it.”

  “Why are there no other teenagers around?” Siona asked, her tone somewhat belligerent.

  Faolen smiled, amused by her attitude, before casting a quick glance outside. “They do not hang around this area of the city. They find it too boring and stiff. They are in the Academia areas, in the Palisades and the Woodlands; all sectors where family pods are settled, where the young can run wild, have fun, and burn the excess energy of youth in between their studies. The Capital is for adults.”

  One building, twice the height of the others loomed in the distance. It looked as if a giant sphere had erupted out of a pyramid that had itself been stabbed with three glowing spears on each side.

  “That’s the Emperor’s Palace,” Faolan said. “This dome-shaped building is the Arena. For now, we’re going to that flower-shaped one: the Serail.”

  It indeed reminded me of a flower, with giant, ovoid pods forming each petal and a pointy tipped one standing vertically in the center. Far too soon, the hovercar approached the building, which turned out to have another circular ground floor beneath the ‘petals’ which I hadn’t noticed from a distance. Massive doors leading to the underground parking opened like the giant maw of a beast, swallowing us whole. The driver stopped right in front of a lift. Faolen didn’t wait for him to come open the door for us, doing the honors instead.

  Once again, I fought the urge to flee. We wouldn’t get very far with our current outfits and horns shouting our uniqueness to the whole world. We entered the lift which flew us up to the twelfth floor of the central tower. The doors parted, revealing a beautiful common room with plenty of seating, from traditional couches and chairs to bean bags and cushions. A couple of giant vidscreens hung on opposing walls of the circular room. A few tables surrounded a decorative fountain in the middle of the room with a small indoor garden, which explained the soothing, flowery scent that had greeted us upon entering the space. A pair of large doors occupied the center of the back wall while a dozen or so regular sized doors were spaced evenly along the circumference of the room.

  A stunning Sarenian female, sitting on one of the black leather couches on the left side of the room, unfolded her crossed legs then rose to her feet. The same barely-there white dress the females outside had worn hugge
d her sexy curves in all the right ways and flattered her dusty blue skin. Cerulean highlights graced the long, curly locks of her shiny black hair. She strutted her way towards us, chest thrust forward, hips swaying, a provocative smile playing on her lips. She barely spared Siona and me a look before her silver eyes locked onto Faolan. I couldn’t quite guess her age, but I assumed late twenties.

  Our kidnapper seemed more amused by the female’s obvious efforts at seduction than actually tempted or aroused.

  “Gatina,” Faolen said in greeting with that signature sultry voice of his. “You look beautiful as ever.”

  “You flatter me, Hunter,” Gatina said with a throaty voice that matched the smoldering look in her stormy eyes. “And yet, you’ll ignore me at the Hunt.”

  Faolan chuckled. “You are one of the most popular Sirens of Deleo. Hunters in your age bracket do not welcome old-timers like me competing for their females.”

  The way Gatina pinched her lips hinted that she’d previously heard that argument from him and still didn’t take kindly to it.

  “The whole point of the Hunt is for the best male to claim his prize,” she argued with a pretty pout.

  “And the one of your age group will,” Faolan said in a sympathetic voice.

  “Age no longer matters after the second molt,” Gatina persisted.

  I fought not to roll my eyes at such a display of lack of self-respect. How many ways did Faolen need to express that he wasn’t interested before she got a clue? Desperation, groveling, and naggy unrequited love were not sexy. A quick glance at Siona confirmed she was making her ‘are you serious’ face while staring at Gatina. I discreetly pinched her. Although she schooled her features, Siona visibly bit the inside of her cheeks to keep herself from laughing. That made me want to laugh, too. Once more, I thanked the Goddess for blessing me with such a strong child, even in the face of adversity.

  “As I’m about to have my third, it matters to me,” Faolen said, a sliver of irritation finally creeping into his voice. “Now be nice and meet Hope and her daughter, Siona: our new Nymphs.”