by Erin Raegan
Being left alone broke me. I was always alone.
I didn’t remember what I said. I didn’t remember speaking. But for hours and hours, I poured out every second of it. I hurled every single memory at Uthyf, defiant and furious. I told him how frightened I had been. I told him how deeply I’d despaired. I told him all of it.
And when it was done, I didn’t feel better. I didn’t feel relieved like psychologists would lead you to believe. Talking about it did nothing to heal the scars on my soul.
I could never scrub away the shame. I would forever suffer from the sound of the master’s whip as it lashed at my back. I would always remember the chains and the way they bit into my wrists as I fought to avoid his vile hands on my body. I would never, ever escape the relief that filled my veins when I realized I was thankful my own father had made sure I would never be able to carry a child. That I would be spared the horror of carrying the master’s spawn.
That had broken me in a way I would never recover from.
When I opened my eyes, I was curled in the chair. My knees were pressed to my chest, my arms wrapped around them. My face was soaked with my tears, my eyes so sore that blinking felt like knives being stabbed into my brain.
When I saw the pity on Uthyf’s face, I hurled all over myself.
Only then did he let me leave.
I walked through the castle without feeling. I didn’t care about the bile that dripped from my knees. I didn’t care about the eyes that followed me. I didn’t care when Vyr ushered Vivian inside my room to help me bathe. I didn’t bother to flinch when she saw all my scars for the first time since our cage. I didn’t care about any of it.
I fell asleep to her soft cries and apologies.
4
Mona
I woke to Roxanne and Lydia’s hushed whispers. They sat at the end of my bed, wringing their hands. Lydia was silently crying while Roxanne had her usual solemn frown.
“He finally spoke to you?” Roxanne asked quietly.
“When did he grill you?” My voice was raspy.
Lydia jumped up and handed me a glass of water. “Most of us talked to the king that first week.”
I couldn’t hide my shock. I had no idea all the girls had been interviewed like that. The Dahk had tried to talk to me before, but it never got further than Uthyf and me arguing. Not until now.
“They needed to know.” Roxanne glared at me. Her dark hair was a tangled mess around her pale face. She looked nearly as effected by the day as I felt.
I tried to smooth my features. I didn’t want them to think I was judging them. They were far braver than I was. When we first got here, I had been scared of everything. That they could talk about it so soon? I was impressed.
“We weren’t there as long as you.” Lydia spoke like a frightened mouse, as though she was too afraid of the world around her to raise her own voice. “We didn’t see the things you did. You were his favorite.”
Coming from anyone else, that would have killed me. I had been his favorite. But not from Lydia. She was the most gentle of all of us.
“I don’t think anything I told them helped,” I said. Not once had Uthyf interrupted me. The only time he reacted was when I talked about the master’s meetings with the assassin. But even then, it was only with an intense flare of his eyes.
“I don’t know. They’ve been in meetings all day since you came back.” Roxanne skirted around the bed, not once taking her eyes off the two guards standing by the door.
“The king’s been by a few times,” Lydia whispered, eyes wide.
“What?” I sat up quickly. I looked around, expecting him to storm out from behind a door. I was done. I had told them everything. I wouldn’t talk about it anymore. I owed them for getting me off of Juldoris, but I was done. “Why?”
“I don’t know.” Lydia shook her head, her frizzy brown curls swinging. “He seemed agitated.”
A knock came at the door, and all three of us jumped as though a foghorn had been blown. All the hairs on my arms rose. One of the guards opened the door, and Uthyf walked in. He looked the same—regal, intimidating, aloof. But his eyes were guarded in a way I hadn’t ever seen. Lydia backed away and stood with her back to the wall. Roxanne stood beside her and grabbed her hand. The two of them had been in captivity longer than those who had left.
Looking at the three of us, I realized why we had stayed. The others felt something we didn’t. That little bit of hope, that little push to move past what had been done to us. The day we escaped, Roxanne and Lydia hadn’t even been conscious. They were too badly injured. Like me, they couldn’t stop jumping. Stop expecting the fist to come. The whip. But for them, the experiments were the worst.
I wondered if they felt like I had. If they stayed because they knew nowhere was safe anymore, but at least here, the Dahk were capable of protecting us. Twenty of us had been exposed to the horrors of the once-unknown. But only three of us were capable of seeing the safety, as well as the danger, in the unknown.
Uthyf took us in for a long moment. He bowed deeply and greeted us by name. Lydia smiled timidly while Roxanne eyed him warily.
“I would like to speak to Mohna a moment alone, if that is agreeable?”
I gaped at him. I had never seen him talk so softly, so calmly. He was normally on edge, as though he was always a hair-trigger away from exploding. Lydia and Roxanne didn’t seem like this was abnormal though. They both looked at me for direction. I nodded dumbly, and they scrambled from the room.
I thought Uthyf would drop the strange air of compassion once we were alone, but he didn’t. He walked around the room, inspecting its bare, impersonal décor. I had a small necklace sitting on a chest. My only possession. It was a miracle I had managed to hang onto it during my captivity, but the master never seemed particularly affected by it.
It was the only thing of my mother’s I had. It was the only thing I owned now. The chain had been beaten to hell, but the small silver pendant looked the same as the day the solemn police officer had handed it to me. The same as the day she died.
“What is it?”
I cleared my throat. “A heart.”
Uthyf’s eyes dropped to my chest.
“It’s a symbol. Not literally a heart.” I rolled my eyes as Uthyf snorted. How was I to know if he understood? “It was my mom’s.”
He thumbed the sparkling pendant gently. “She gave it to you?”
“No, I kept it after she died.”
Uthyf looked back at me. “How?”
What was this? Sharing time? “A car accident.”
He was on his own if he didn’t know what a car accident was. I wasn’t willing to explain it. But he didn’t look confused. No doubt he had made it a priority to understand humans and our world the moment his commander mated one. Along with our culture, our advances, and our weaknesses. He would have studied every part of us by now.
I jumped from the bed and snatched the dangling chain from him. Uthyf backed away from me so fast he nearly bumped into the dresser. I eyed him. I wasn’t going to attack him.
“Were you young?” He walked around me, keeping his distance, and looked out my balcony doors.
I firmed my jaw. “Yes. I was eleven.”
“A babe,” he murmured. “I too lost my mam at a young age.”
“I’m sorry.” Losing a parent sucked.
Uthyf looked at me over his shoulder with a bizarre light in his eye. “You were not at fault.” I could have sworn I saw his lips twitch. I didn’t think the alien knew how to smile. “Were you?”
I snorted. “Why are you here?”
Uthyf sighed and his shoulders sagged. But not for long. He turned around and faced me, his shoulders once again back as if he were bracing himself. “I came to apologize.”
I gaped at him. I knew he could see all the way to the back of my throat, the filling in my right molar, and the disbelief on my face. His lip twitched again, and I shot my finger out in accusation. “What?”
“I am capab
le of acknowledging my faults, female.”
“Right, okay. Wait, why are you apologizing?” I curled my finger back into my fist but it still hung in the air like my shock. I couldn’t seem to catch up to the words coming out of his mouth.
“I pushed you. I forced you to bare your pain to me. I did not do so maliciously. I knew what I was asking of you, but I must put the safety of my Dahk first.”
I laughed grimly. “You know, I would have told you. Not like that, but I would have eventually.” Lie. Lie. Lie. I wouldn’t have ever spoken about it if I could get away with it.
“I did not have the time to spare for you to come to me on your own.”
I knew that. The safety of his Dahk was bigger than me and my pain. “But why ask me yourself? Why not send Vivian or anyone else?”
Uthyf clenched his jaw, his fangs biting into his bottom lip. “My council is not to be trusted, as I’m sure you’ve been warned. Those who were in the room with me are my most trusted. You had not spoken to the other human females here, and I did not believe you would be receptive to one of my Dahk.”
I couldn’t argue with that. “Okay, yeah, that makes sense, I guess. So um, d-did it help? What I told you? Did it help?”
He hesitated.
I sighed and looked at the floor. It hadn’t. All of that and for what? Nothing.
I must have been holding on to the hope that all those bad things the master did to me, all those nights chained to his bed or the floor, that something good could come out of it. That I hadn’t suffered for nothing. That maybe I had seen or heard something with the potential to save the Dahk from the coming war. That it would have somehow been worth it.
But I should have known. I wasn’t just afraid of remembering, of talking about it. Underneath the stupid hope, I knew it wouldn’t do a damn thing. That was why I’d fought so hard when they asked me to tell them.
“We did not learn anything knew,” he said haltingly, reluctantly. “You confirmed our suspicions on many things.”
I nodded and blinked back tears. “Oh.”
“Mohna, you are safe here.” He stepped closer and stopped, curling his hands into fists. “He will not come for you here.”
“You don’t know that,” I mumbled. But oh, how I wanted that to be true.
Uthyf looked away from me. He had told the others too many times that they were safe here and they hadn’t been. He wouldn’t do it again.
We didn’t speak again. He hesitated, his mouth opening and closing briefly before he left.
I sat on the bed, drowning in misery. But I couldn’t hide forever. I had a job here, and I was late.
Roxanne and Lydia were already in the kitchen when I finally made my way there.
Isin, Peyton and Tahk’s House member, scowled at me when I crept into the kitchen. I patted his head and dodged his short arms as he swatted me with a spoon that was almost bigger than he was. Isin wasn’t a Dahk, he was a Findilis male Tahk had saved from slavery a long time ago. Isin had pledged himself to taking care of his savior, so he was now Tahk’s servant, but Peyton insisted he was family to her. That the Dahk had servants bothered Peyton, but Isin got his rocks off cleaning and cooking for them, so Peyton let him do his thing at home. But now he was temporarily living at the castle since most of the castle help had been dismissed. Tahk and Peyton already had a cook at home, so Isin was on cloud nine not having to compete with anyone else in taking charge of the castle’s kitchens.
He was a short, orange, hairy dude with four eyes, and he was training me and the other girls in our new jobs. Lately that power had gone to his head and he had become a tad tyrannical. We butted heads a lot because I loved to cook just as much as he did, and now that I got to experience so many new alien foods every day, I wanted to cook every meal. Isin liked to force his hand with me. I was essentially his bitch in the kitchen, but that was okay. I loved it there.
“Late,” he grumbled as he climbed onto his stool. He dropped the huge spoon back into the vat of dark chunky liquid over the fire. He churned the thick sludge, and I bent close. It looked terrible but smelled amazing.
“Sorry, I was busy.”
“You’re peeling.” He pointed at a basket of sulls.
I groaned. Sulls had the tough skin of a potato with the acid of an onion. They were great in a soup or grilled up but a pain in the ass to peel. My eyes were already sore from all my sobbing today. This would be painful.
Isin laughed maniacally before he shouted something to a female Dahk scurrying around. She was one of the few who had been spared during Uthyf’s mass firing. Only the actual members of his House before they were merged with Aryx’s, which meant they were family, were allowed to stay—other than the warriors. I didn’t know if the girl was related to Uthyf—she didn’t look like him—but a lot of the members of a Dahk’s House weren’t actually related. Tahk and Peyton didn’t have a single relation among their House. If a male Dahk didn’t control a House of his own, which was a personal choice, then being invited to join another’s House was considered an honor. Females usually found their way in through matings, or they could be offered a spot in a relative’s House.
Uthyf’s father had invited most of his House members, both male and female. Then after his father was assassinated, Aryx took them all in and offered invitations of his own. Some of the women here had been part of Aryx’s harem. He had only had one chosen mate, but three potentials when he was killed. The chosen mate didn’t lose any of the luxury she was accustomed to and was still thought of as Uthyf’s family as far as I knew, though I had never met her, but Aryx’s consorts had been relegated to various jobs throughout the castle before they were relocated.
The castle House had a weird dynamic, and it was almost impossible to figure out where everyone’s loyalties lay. Who had been there for Uthyf’s father, who for Aryx, and who for Uthyf? I knew there had been a lot of scheming going on before Uthyf kicked people out, but his council was still there even though we had been warned to stay away from them. All of them but Haytu. All the more reason for me to remain as closed off and unsocial as possible.
I peeled sulls for hours. When I dropped the last one, my hands were an angry shade of red and so dried out they would be sore all night. And my eyes and nose were running so profusely, several Dahk in the kitchen were eyeing me with wide eyes and concern. But Isin had gotten over his snit and I was allowed to prepare last meal with him.
Lydia was giggling with Roxanne as they chopped and stirred, and I had been teasing Isin about his spindly toes when a hush fell over the kitchen. A throat cleared delicately, and Isin nearly toppled off the stool he stood on when he spun around to face the interloper.
Alyn stood in the doorway of the kitchen, looking at the mess with a twist to her thin lips. Isin jumped down and tossed dirty bowls and plates into the large tub behind him, but he couldn’t hide the mess we made every day. His orange fur rose in agitation and his four eyes widened in distress.
I rolled my eyes and turned back around to stir the sauce I was making. Everyone thought Alyn was a perfect match for Uthyf, but she rubbed me the wrong way. She was too quiet, too proper, too striking, too something. But everyone in the castle treated her as if her shit didn’t stink. It was annoying.
She was currently the only Dahk in the running to mate Uthyf. He hadn’t taken another consort since he’d sent away the last one a few weeks ago. Pyla had been loud and brash and I’d hated her on sight. She dictated every little thing everyone in the castle did, and I was glad to see her ass as it was booted out the door. Alyn though was the sweet one, Uthyf’s perfect match. Everyone said she would calm him, be the soft smile to his brash fury. Gag.
I didn’t believe they suited each other at all. He would walk all over her. He needed someone to keep him grounded, not a doormat.
“What can I do for you, my lady?” Isin asked in that nervous high voice he used when talking to someone he couldn’t order around.
“How are you, Isin?” Alyn asked with a forc
ed smile.
Not that Isin noticed. His body wiggled in delight and he clutched his hands in front of him. “Very well, my lady. And you?”
“Uthyf is to leave in the morn to visit the southern Houses. He will be gone for some time, so I wish to share a special meal with him this eve.”
“Of course, of course. I’m sure he will appreciate your thoughtfulness. Should I have his favorite dish prepared?” Isin was already shooing me away from the fire to lift the sauce I had spent hours preparing. All my hard work would get cold. That would ruin it. I glared at him.
“That would be lovely.” Alyn smiled again.
I growled under my breath. This was ridiculous. We had to serve nearly three hundred Dahk in twenty minutes. She couldn’t have asked for this, like, hours ago? This would put us behind and Uthyf wouldn’t care that his precious consort had disrupted dinner. He would be pissed at us that his army hadn’t been served on time. While we paid for her thoughtlessness, Uthyf would fall over her to thank her for a meal she didn’t even know how to prepare.
“Shall we have it sent to your rooms?” Isin smacked my thighs as he frantically pulled ingredients from the cabinets beside me.
I huffed and helped him, as did Lydia. Only Isin, I thought as I scowled at him, only Isin could get away with putting his hands on me. And that was only because the alien was round and furry and kind of like a weird puppy— a four eyed puppy that shouted orders.
“Yes, and if you could have that loaf with the sweet sauce sent up as well. He adores it.”
“No.” I ignored Isin’s squawk of indignation and looked at Alyn. “We’re out, it’s too much work, and we have to finish last meal.”
Her stupid fake smile slipped and she eyed me. “You refuse me?”
“Yes,” I mocked. “I refuse you.”
Isin looked positively scandalized as he gaped at me. “It will be sent,” He choked out. He scuttled toward her and bowed. “Not to worry, my lady. My king will be very pleased with your surprise.”
“Good.” She turned then squinted at me over his shoulder. “See that she is reprimanded for her words. She is a guest in this House. The king will not tolerate her insolence.”