Kidnapped By the Alien Prince by Tori Kellett
Chapter Four
Zak watched as the shuttle landed. It had taken two full daylights to ready enough quarters away from the notice of his sire’s guards. He was only able to because he found that his regular duties of First Prince seemed to no longer be required. Which was both a blessing and a curse because at least as First Prince he was able to divert enough food and water to the Outlands. It would never be enough; even if he never put another morsel of food between his own lips and gave all he had, his people—and they were still his people no matter if he wore a circle of gems on his head or not—would still die.
The fact that his sire pretended his people didn’t exist most of the time until they were needed to work in the mines to fund his daily excesses actually helped in this circumstance. They had three small shuttles that took off regularly, delivering the ore and bringing supplies to and from the mines. Extra trips to sequester the females wouldn’t be noticed, and his own men were loyal to him and only to him. Unto death, if need be. Zak never took that fact lightly. His whole purpose in life since he had been around ten cycles old had been never to let another young of Ishtaan die of hunger. It still hurt immeasurably he couldn’t stop them dying of the disease.
Voren disembarked first and immediately gestured for the guards to form a protective line around the ramp. Zak’s eyes narrowed as a surge of something he didn’t want to put a name to rose as he watched Azlaan step out, reach back, and help Calista step out of the shuttle. He was striding forward before he even realized what he was doing, a low vibration rumbling in his throat, loud enough his brother must have heard it. Azlaan’s eyes lightened in apparent amusement, but he didn’t let go of Calista’s hand until she was safely on the ground.
Zakaarir had to restrain himself from reaching out, snatching the female, and drawing her close. For protection, he assured himself. His brother bowed respectfully enough, but all he had eyes for was the human female. She looked stunning. Her long, jet-black hair draped across her shoulders, and her brown eyes sparkled like the deep, almost golden lights of the Azteen crystals they mined for. She would look incredible draped in them and only them. Zakaarir felt himself harden in his uniform, but he willed his thoughts elsewhere.
“Calista.” He bowed.
She smiled but not with a great deal of warmth, and his heart thumped. He glanced at Azlaan, but Azlaan didn’t seem perturbed. Suspicion narrowed his eyes. Did the female prefer his brother? They had been together for two full daylights since he had been forced to leave. He was sufficiently distracted when the warriors rushed to carry the females on pallets to the tents set aside for Azlaan to supervise their awakening. He folded his arms to stop himself reaching for Calista, who followed the procession of pallet bearers into the tent. It was a good thing it was the Growth. The ground during the Wet would be impossible to erect tents on, and if everything went as planned, they would be safely in the palace by the time the Dry started in another lunar phase or so.
Either that or he would be dead and not care either way.
“My prince?”
Zakaarir turned and smiled at the older female who had stepped up to him so silently his own superior hearing hadn’t registered her. “Brey,” he acknowledged and took her hand, pressing his lips to the back of it to show his deep affection. Brey had cared for them all, both to help his matriche while she lived and to comfort them when she died just after N’ameth was born.
“She has a good heart.”
Zakaarir knew who Brey meant, of course, but he still questioned it. “How can you possibly know that when you haven’t even met?”
Brey’s deep green eyes shadowed. “Because she cares for the other females even though she doesn’t know them.” It was true. Calista was clucking around the pallets and organizing his guards as if she were a healer herself. Or a matriche. “You have chosen well.”
“I haven’t chosen anything,” Zak said bitterly. His choices had been lost before he was even born. “And neither has she.”
Brey made a disapproving noise and shook her head. “She could choose to be waited on. She could demand the prince that wants to claim her comes and presents himself. The he gift her Veerlash furs and the best Azteen crystals. She holds the very survival of your people in her hands, but she chooses to see to the comfort of others.” Brey gazed up at him. “How can you doubt my word?”
“I cannot claim her. And I think Azlaan—”
“Pfft,” Brey snorted, her disgust apparent. “You need a queen. Azlaan doesn’t know what he needs yet.”
“I had a queen,” Zakaarir rejoined gently, and Brey’s harsh gaze softened.
“Maylesh was cheated of becoming a great queen, but not by you, my prince. Don’t let guilt that belongs to someone else rob you or your people of a future.”
Zakaarir swallowed with difficulty. “How can I take another so soon?”
Brey turned and raised her hand to cup the side of Zakaarir’s face. He closed his eyes and leaned into the soft touch. “Do not try and convince yourself Maylesh was the love of your life. You were friends, and you would have ruled well together, but do not insult her memory by letting everything she wanted go to waste. She desperately wanted your son to somehow rule a happy and prosperous people, not continue living in the shadow of your sire, or elder sire.”
Zakaarir automatically looked around in case Brey’s words were heard. But then, they had greater things to worry about than an insult. If his sire ever discovered this, the females wouldn’t be slaughtered with them. They would immediately be forced to breed with whoever his sire chose instead. He couldn’t imagine a worse fate.
Azlaan looked up as he strode into the tent. “We are waking them up individually with three-hour gaps. The idea is that by the time we have more than two awake, Callie will have help—”
“Callie?” Zakaarir questioned in far too loud a voice, and the murmurs of the guards stopped.
“Yes?” Calista immediately asked and came over to him as if he had called her. They all knew he hadn’t, and it took him a moment to realize she was attempting to mitigate any shame caused by his outburst. Brey stepped forward and held out her hand.
“I am Brey, and I am so pleased and so grateful you are here.”
Calista smiled, and Zakaarir got lost for a moment in her eyes as they lit with pleasure again. He wanted them to light when they saw him, and for another shameful moment was also jealous of Brey. She grinned and took Brey’s hand, squeezed it gently, and let go. “Well, I’m not sure I was given much choice, but I’m going to try and make it as less awful for the others as I can.”
Brey nodded. “What can I do to help?”
She glanced back at Azlaan—completely ignoring Zakaarir—and gestured over to where he stood next to the pallet that Lexie lay on. “We are going to wake Lexie first as she was briefly awake on the cruiser and met me already. She was a little hysterical though, so I would appreciate having you with me. If she responds well, we can wake a second and split ourselves.”
“Callie’s reasoning is that then the first two can help you support the next females and so on. I hope to have everyone awake by the next daylight,” Azlaan said.
Zak glanced at his brother. “That makes good sense.” He looked at the guards. “I want all males outside of the tent with the exception of Prince Azlaan.”
Calista nodded, and he basked in her approval for a moment. “Good idea.” She turned to Azlaan. “And I’d stay out of sight yourself, if you can, to give us a chance to explain.”
Azlaan inclined his head. “I will track everything from here.”
Zakaarir watched as his guards brought the life-monitoring equipment in from the shuttle and sighed to himself. It was a wonder with its age that it still worked. He felt a hand on his arm and turned.
“Prince Zakaarir?” It was Calista.
“Please call me Zak.” The words tumbled from his lips in a rush. Zak was what his matriche had called him, and each of his brothers until they learned to say his name without stumbling over the sounds. Razorr still called him that, but as First Prince, even his brothers shied away from that familiarity in public. He missed his twin with an urgency that nearly overwhelmed him right at that moment, and he stepped back.
“Are you okay?” He blinked at the soft voice and focused on the female. His female, because she would be. He vowed it. He nodded, unable to form words, and Calista smiled. “Then Zak, please call me Callie.”
He smiled but realized when he heard Brey clear her throat he was just standing there looking like a disteck. It was a wonder Azlaan wasn’t laughing at him. “I will do my best to make sure they are as least upset as possible.”
“You are incredibly generous,” Zak said in wonder.
She chuckled. “Oh, I don’t know. You just try and make me share chocolate.”
He tilted his head. He knew what chocolate translated to, and he thought she was joking, but there was a gleam in her eyes that threatened consequences. “I am sorry. I have duties to perform in the palace, but please allow me to join you for final meal.”
She smiled again and turned to help Azlaan. Reluctantly, Zak left. He had other responsibilities still and wanted to check on Kaleth.
Zakaarir walked back to the palace, Voren and H’adaar falling into step alongside him. Much as he would prefer them both to stay with the females, if he was seen without Voren present for a third day, it would be noticeable. He would never be seen without two guards at all times, but since the circlet of First Prince had been taken from him, he wasn’t sure it mattered. They weren’t protecting the future king now, according to the Assembly anyway.
Kaleth, however, came down the steps to the south door to meet him, accompanied by three guards all belonging to his sire’s detail. He mistrusted all of them and was disturbed to see Kaleth without either Tamara or Reyjik. He was safe in the guarded palace grounds, and Maylesh, while wanting him protected, had also wanted him to stay a child as long as possible.
Something else that had ceased as well. They had disagreed over this themselves as Zak knew that Kaleth would have to start his warrior training soon. Personal guards were all well and good, but he wanted his son to be able to protect himself.
“Sire.” Kaleth tipped his head in respect, and Zak smiled.
“Let us walk the gardens.” He turned to the three guards. “I wish to speak in private to my son. I realize you need to be able to see him at all times, but you can observe from there.” He didn’t give them a chance to argue, just walked Kaleth a little way off. Warrior hearing was acute, so he also lowered his voice and turned away from them, ruffling Kaleth’s hair.
“My elder sire sent them this morning.”
Zakaarir nodded. He wished with everything in him that he could include Kaleth in his plans, but he was only nine cycles, and Zak refused to place that burden on so young a pair of shoulders, even if he was the First Prince now. “Things are changing, my son, and you must be patient.”
Kaleth gazed at him with too-old eyes. “Things you cannot share.” Zakaarir eyed him in surprise. It wasn’t a question, more an acknowledgment. Zakaarir had only meant to urge calm, not invite supposition. Kaleth gazed at him. “Do you promise to share when you can?”
Zakaarir’s lips parted on a denial, but he couldn’t sustain the bluff, so he changed the subject. “You make me very proud. You will be a great king for our people one day.”
Kaleth just stared at him. “Then perhaps I had better return to my studies.”
“Perhaps you can call at the kitchen first. Great concentration needs sustenance.” Neela, he knew, would have treats that Kaleth would approve of and deserved. He hadn’t had many of those in his short life.
Kaleth’s face brightened, and just for a moment, he looked like a carefree young, but then he glanced at his guards and his face fell. “I will make you proud, sire.”
Zak’s throat tightened, and he dragged Kaleth close. They both stood and hugged each other, but then with reluctance, Zak let go. Kaleth smiled and returned, his guards following.
Voren and H’adaar stepped in close. “I want to know everything about the First Prince’s security detail.”
Voren thumped his chest. “Yes, my prince.” Zak nodded and went inside. He had to look over their Azteen contracts. The Alliance would be coming to collect their supply soon, and the last thing he needed was to give them any reason to tarry. He didn’t trust them either.
