by Hope Hart
“It is healing nicely. The bandages will be able to be removed by this time tomorrow.”
“Huh?”
“We used a specific herb native to this planet. Combined with our quick action— in spite of your male’s distaste for our ways— we were able to repair the puncture and stem the bleeding. However, you will not be able to stand until this time tomorrow.”
I nod, feeling like I’m in a dream. They fixed a chest wound with herbs?
The healer leaves, and I turn my head, taking in my surroundings. I’m lying in Methi’s arms, and he’s sitting with his back to the wall, lips curled in a snarl as he glowers at anyone who thinks to come close. We’re being given our space for now, with everyone choosing to give us a wide berth. Murmurs sound, and people are staring at us, likely waging bets on how long I’ll be allowed out of my cage.
“Should’ve let the Lahmu whore die,” a voice sounds, and I glance at the cage to our right. I’m not sure what type of alien this male is, but we’ve made eye contact a few times over the months. “Unless that’s what you were hoping for yourself. Either way, you failed spectacularly.”
Methi tenses, and I feel his eyes on my face.
“Is that why you did it?” he asks, voice hoarse.
I narrow my eyes at him. “Of course not. Have you met me?”
His low laugh of relief feels like a hug.
Chapter Sixteen
Meghan
I spend the night napping in Methi’s arms. My chest aches, but it’s only when I move that it feels like I’m still being stabbed. He’s awake every time I wake up, still glaring at anyone who dares approach, even as he gently strokes my hair.
In the morning, I stare at the entrance to the mountain.
“I can see the sky,” I whisper and Methi smiles down at me but there’s no light in his eyes.
“Court is in session,” I hear, and I grimace. The King’s court is one more way he likes to make everyone miserable. He enjoys making his subjects beg for basics like food and water, simply to remind them that he alone is responsible for whether they live or die.
“I would like to petition the court,” says the Princess, a thread of sarcasm running through her words.
It seems as if no one even breathes.
“Petition granted,” says the King.
“Sit me up,” I say to Methi and he shakes his head, frowning down at me.
“Methi!”
His frown deepens, but he slowly moves me so I can see what’s going on. I gasp in pain and he freezes until I hiss at him to continue.
The Princess is standing in front of her father, who sits on his stone throne, the Queen a pale statue next to him.
“I move to allow both the human creature and the Arcav to return to their planet, and provide them fuel for the journey.”
Gasps ring out, and I’m pretty sure I spot someone faint near the front row. Even the King looks perturbed at the suggestion.
“The human is part of my collection,” he says dismissively, turning to the next person in line.
“The human saved the life of your heir,” the Princess says, and I see nodding in the crowd. I simply watch and analyze, waiting to see what will happen.
“Nevertheless, the human belongs in the cage where I can see her.”
“Am I to understand that the life of the future ruler of Huldra means less to you than seeing your trophy on display?”
There’s no condemnation in the Princess’s voice. It’s as if she’s simply asking him to clarify, and yet the fact that she would dare to question him is remarkable.
A few extraordinarily brave subjects have begun to whisper, and it’s likely that what they’re saying isn’t complimentary. The King’s face reddens, and they fall silent as he gets to his feet, scanning the crowd.
Revolutions have been started for less. And the King knows it.
“What’s her end game?” I mutter and feel Methi shrug underneath me. We both know the Princess isn’t asking for our freedom out of the goodness of our heart. Methi feels like a live wire beneath me.
Don’t get your hopes up, I want to tell him. This is just another game. We’re not going anywhere.
The King clears his throat and people jump out of his way, gasping as he walks down the steps of the raised dais where his throne sits. He walks toward us and Methi puts me down, kissing my brow in apology at my pained gasp. Methi positions me between the wall and his back, crouches in front of me and bares his teeth.
Wisely, the King chooses to leave a few feet of distance between himself and Methi, who has made it clear that coming any closer would be a bad, bad idea.
The King smiles at us, a calm, benevolent ruler until you look into his eyes, where there’s nothing except spite and hate.
“You have indeed served this court with your actions, saving the life of my daughter, my heir, and the future ruler of Huldra. For this, I have decided to grant an unprecedented boon,” he says, as if the whole idea is his. “As soon as your female has recovered, I will provide you with fuel and you may leave.”
Methi is barely breathing, and I know what he’s thinking. It’s a trick. One more way to make us suffer. Only this is the cruelest one yet. He nods his head, as if accepting the King’s decree, and cheers ring out among the crowd.
The King turns his head to the Princess, a promise of retaliation in his eyes, and she squares her shoulders, lifting her head higher, even as her face whitens.
Methi turns to me, and I want to cry at the look on his face. I tremble with the need to kill the King for the hope that shines like a beacon on Methi’s face as he leans over me.
“We’re not giving him a chance to change his mind. I know you’re hurting, but I want you on that ship tonight.”
“Methi—”
“Can you do it?”
I nod my head tiredly, unwilling to rain on his parade. If he truly believes we’re allowed to leave this planet, I’m not going to do anything to kill the hope in his eyes.
Methi
Meghan does not believe we will be allowed to leave. There is no excitement, no hope, and no…life in her. I refuse to believe that this place has extinguished the bright spark that makes her who she is. She is just tired and hurting. She has been caged for a large part of her short life. Once she is free, she will recover. She just needs time.
Our ship is ready, and all we need is fuel. Meghan sleeps in my arms, and I lean my head against the wall, watching the creatures around us.
It was I that stoked the seeds of rebellion. It has taken many, many days to get to the point where these creatures would dare whisper their displeasure in front of the King. I have made a point to speak to every Nirex, and Lahmu, along with any other creatures unfortunate enough to live here. I have done my job well, whispering tales of Arcavia, Earth, and the many other planets I have been to. I spoke of benevolent rulers, freedom, and the interesting concept the humans call democracy.
I glowered disapprovingly as the King forced his subjects to fight— and die— for his entertainment, muttering that this would never happen on my planet. I raised my eyebrow sardonically at the food, politely asking which part of the cooked beast the masses were permitted to eat. I stared at the cages, wondering out loud what might happen to the King if the creatures in captivity were to ever be freed.
I flexed the metal of my arm, announcing how grateful I was that my King encouraged technological advances, particularly in the medical space.
It was a form of warfare I have never used before. My every urge was to rend and beat and kill. But by stoking the fires of discontentment, I could increase the likelihood that somehow, someday, we would be able to escape this planet.
I never imagined my mate would need to almost lose her life in order for it to be successful.
Meghan
If I’d been able to stand, I would’ve fallen to my knees at the sensation of the sun on my face. Instead, I buried my head in Methi’s chest, both because my eyes needed time to adjust to the light
after so much time in the dim, dark mountain, and because I refused to show any emotion in front of my tormenters.
Now, my arms are around his neck as I hold onto him for all I’m worth, and the ground flashes by as we soar through the air. It’s spring. It had been so cold when we landed that I’d assumed this planet was one of the ice planets Methi had told me about, back when I’d listen to him talk for hours.
The trees are stripped of life, and I shiver at the sight of their intertwined branches, even more disconcerting without any leaves. But there’s no more snow, no ice, just a lukewarm sun and cool breeze.
The King ordered two Lahmu to fly us to our ship, more than willing to allow us to leave almost immediately. Methi whispered to me that the King now sees our presence as a threat to his power, but I don’t believe anything or anyone could make the King do anything he doesn’t want to do.
The Princess has disappeared, her maid stating that she is ‘unwell’ and staying in her rooms. The King looked unconcerned and I wonder if he’s already had her killed.
Methi refused to let one of the Lahmu carry me, insisting instead that the Lahmu carry both of us between them. They each have an arm linked with Methi, and I’m cradled like a child in his arms. We probably make a strange sight, our awkward foursome flying through the air like a drunken bumblebee.
I’m expecting them to drop us at any moment, but Methi has their arms squeezed so tightly in his that one of the Lahmu has already hissed at him in annoyance.
Methi simply showed him his teeth and gripped him tighter, the metal of his arm gleaming in the sun.
At one point, a godawful roar sounds in the distance, and the world beneath us goes silent. The Lahmu drop like a stone, holding us between them as they wait, the look on their faces ensuring we stay silent.
“What was that?” I whisper to one of them once they decide its safe to take to the air.
“Dragon,” he says shortly and my mouth drops open as I meet Methi’s eyes.
“There are dragons?”
He gives me a half-smile. “On a few planets,” he murmurs, and then returns his gaze to our surroundings.
Our ship appears in the distance, and despite all of my intentions, the tiniest spark of hope ignites somewhere in my chest. I try to suppress it, even as Methi murmurs in my ear.
“It has already been refueled. But we will check it.”
My heart is pounding and I’m about to throw up. If we’re really about to leave, I haven’t achieved anything I wanted to do. The first? Kill the King. The second? Free the people in the cages and let them take care of anyone who tormented them over the centuries.
We land, and Methi allows the Lahmu to wrench their arms free from his grip. I’m shaking as we board the ship and Methi immediately raises the stairs, locking us in. He moves straight to the fuel tank, still holding me in his arms as he removes the cap, and both of us stare at the bright green color of space fuel, the strong, sickly odor giving us no doubt that the King has kept his word.
“What if it’s contaminated?”
Methi shrugs. “Our ship will crash on take-off and still land back on his planet. We may die, but he will lose more honor and respect in the eyes of his people. I do not believe he will risk it.”
He takes me into the control center and sits down, pulling his belt around us both.
“Methi, we can’t leave. Those poor people…”
“Just trust me,” is all he says.
We lift off, and both of us breathe a sigh of relief when the ship doesn’t burst into a ball of flame. The ground gets further and further away, and Methi nuzzles his face into my neck as we make it to the exosphere.
I must have died.
I died on that planet, and the last few days have just been my soul attempting to make sense of the afterlife. Or I’m still lying on the stone floor, dreaming of a better life.
When I first climbed into that cage, I’d do this all the time. Dreams of freedom would haunt me at night even while I drove myself crazy with escape plans that could never succeed. I’d wake up, certain I was about to feel the sun on my skin, only to realize that my dreams had once again tricked me into thinking that a better life awaited me.
“I’m dreaming.”
I don’t realize I’ve said it aloud until Methi pulls me even closer. He scrapes one fang down my neck as I shiver, then blows gently on the back of my ear.
“Does this feel like a dream?”
Well yeah, I’ve had plenty of dirty dreams about Methi over the years.
I pinch myself, and then do it harder, even as Methi growls, pulling my fingers away from my arm. I study the red mark and begin to shake while Methi unbuckles us, turning me to face him as I bury my head in his neck.
I’m finally ready to fall apart when I feel Methi’s entire body tense.
“Well,” a poisonous voice says. “Isn’t this sweet?”
Chapter Seventeen
Meghan
“I did die after all,” I say, lifting my head. “And this is hell.”
The Princess sneers at me, even as she holds on to the curved doorway for dear life. Her face is chalk white, the black of her eyebrows severe against the pale color of her skin.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I ask.
Methi is grinding his teeth, and doesn’t look at all surprised to see the bitch that helped make my life hell is onboard our space ship.
“I made a deal with your oversized male,” she says, smirking, and I push against Methi’s chest, ignoring the stab of pain in my own chest at the movement.
He begins a low growl, refusing to release me, which enrages me even more.
“Let me go.”
“You will hurt yourself.”
“I’ll hurt you in a second.”
“I’ll leave you two alone,” the Princess says, some of the color returning to her cheeks.
She disappears, and I narrow my eyes at Methi.
“Let go. Now.”
He stands and carefully places me on the co-captains seat, taking his own and swiveling them to face each other as he leans forward, into my space.
“I am sorry that this upsets you.”
Upsets me? Is he insane?
“How could you do this?”
“It was necessary.”
“Necessary?” My mouth falls open. “This feels like a betrayal, Methi. You know who she is, you know what she did to me.” I
He shifts. “I did not have time to tell you, and could not risk anyone overhearing us. I made a deal with the Queen. We take the Princess with us for a meeting with Varian, and the Queen arranges for the creatures in the cages to be released.”
I blow out a breath in astonishment. “You trust her?”
“Strangely, yes. She was the one who arranged for us to have the few moments we were able to have together,” he reminds me. “I could only judge her by her own actions.”
I think of her blank eyes, wandering over her subjects as if she could not see them. But I also remember her small acts of kindness, whenever she was able to disappear into the crowd for a few short moments.
“If she’s planning to release them, she’s dead.”
Methi nods and sorrow crosses his face. “Her only condition was that we got her daughter out to approach Varian for help.”
We’re both silent. If the King doesn’t somehow figure out that the Queen managed to get their daughter on our ship and execute her himself, one of the caged creatures will do it as soon as they’re free.
“They’ll kill them all.”
Methi shakes his head.
“We stumbled into the beginnings of a revolution. I imagine that the Queen will warn anyone she can.”
If she has the chance.
I think of the woman who smuggled me extra fruit when my mouth developed sores from malnutrition. The woman who once gave one of her subjects a blanket that was obviously handmade. The woman who once glanced around to check no one was watching and then took off her own shoes when she notic
ed one of her subject's feet were turning blue in the cold.
Then I think of her daughter, who left, knowing her mother will die. I can’t imagine losing my mom, and for a moment, my heart hurts for them both.
And then my lip curls. I did lose my mom. And she’s probably been through hell for the past six months. Who knows if the Princess even cares about the woman who birthed her? Throughout the thousands of hours I spent with my nose up against the cool bars of that cage, I don’t think I ever once saw them exchange so much as a warm glance.
I close my eyes, once again exhausted, and Methi carries me into the medi-center, placing me on the bed and covering me with blankets.
His face is made of stone, and I reach up, tracing the shape of his lips. He smiles against my hand but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Stay,” I murmur and he sits next to me, holding my hand until I fall asleep.
Methi
According to my calculations, we should reach Arcavia in approximately ten of Meghan’s Earth days. She is still in a deep sleep, and after assuring myself that we can trust the ship to follow our flight plan, I lay next to her on the narrow bed, curling close to her warmth. She sighs in her sleep and something in my chest finally relaxes as I breathe in her scent, finally able to hold her in my arms.
Safe. She is safe.
I do not know where the princess has gone, but she has likely found some small corner of the ship to claim as her own. As long as she stays far from my mate, she can do as she pleases. Harlow once taught me a saying from Earth, one that ran through my head when the Queen came to me with her request.
The enemy of my enemy is my friend.
The female who made life in that cage even more difficult for my mate will never be my friend, but I understand the concept of this idea. When two people have a shared enemy, they can briefly put aside their hatred of each other until that enemy has been killed.