Freed By the Alien Prince by Tori Kellett
Chapter Fifteen
N’ameth answered Voren’s communicator.
“Sascha?” He couldn’t resist the question.
“Is well.”
He smiled, the knowledge of how she felt warming him more than the sunrise on the Jaris beach. “Tomorrow, I want all the females ready to leave. We have been here long enough. I’m not convinced Xar’ta is even in the area anymore, and I want them safe.” He disconnected and smiled at the thought of getting back to Sascha, dreaming of her by his side for the rest of their lives.
He lifted the shuttle to clear the trees and had a second to register a noise from what sounded disbelievingly like a Safir missile when the bottom of the shuttle was punched so hard he thought it would roll. Every sensor on his instrument panel lit up, and the alarm for fire started blaring. Not that he needed the alarm—he could smell the smoke almost immediately. The hit to the bottom of the shuttle also meant it he had been fired upon from the ground.
N’ameth struggled with the controls. He hadn’t cleared the Hasida trees yet, and if he landed on one of those, they would punch through the hull like an Ishtaan blade through gava berries. The camp. He couldn’t keep heading in this direction. If the shuttle came down near the camp, it could easily kill people. Kill her.
His communicator flared to life again. “N’ameth?” It was Voren.
“I’ve been hit from below. Someone on the ground.”
“Use the ejector seat, N’ameth. Your hull’s breached.”
No.The shuttle was heading straight for the camp, unless he could redirect it. He gritted his teeth. “Have. To. Turn.” The shuttles still had old-fashioned manual controls, so it took strength to adjust the acceleration lever and steer. He had to make sure the shuttle didn’t hit anywhere near the camp. He had to make sure Sascha was safe. Because he loved her with everything in him.
“N’ameth, my prince. You need—”
But the sound of a huge explosion drowned out Voren’s plea. He felt a sharp pain and a tug as if his body was coming apart. His last thought was of his princess, and he prayed to Vashtaan he had kept her safe.
Sascha barely remembered returning to the palace. It was as if cotton wool had taken the place her brain normally resided. At least until the moment she realized Rachel was leading her upstairs to the female suite and she remembered Lexie. She’d almost forgotten about her.
“I can’t,” she whispered and stopped, vaguely aware they had warriors following them. Rachel nodded and steered her in the opposite direction, past the kitchen areas and into a small room. It had a bed and a small bathroom. It was all she needed. She sat down, not sure how much longer her legs would hold her. She’d been pretty much oblivious after Lam’saak had refused to let go of her when Voren had charged him with getting the females back to the palace. He had bundled her onto the second shuttle almost as it had landed. It had still been chaos when Zak and Azlaan arrived in another shuttle and raced across the campsite, barking out orders.
In a small part of her brain, an insidious voice questioned why Azlaan was there. No one could have survived the shuttle explosion. Not even a seven-foot-tall plated warrior with turquoise eyes, huge hands, and an even bigger heart. She brushed her cheek and was surprised to find it wet. She wasn’t crying. She was too numb to cry.
“It was my fault.”
Rachel frowned. “You have a missile launcher, do you?”
Rachel’s sarcasm was effective. If she’d tried to sympathize, Sascha might have fallen apart. “He was trying to protect me, us. He wouldn’t eject from the shuttle because he was worried it would crash near the camp.” She’d heard Voren screaming at N’ameth in frustration, but N’ameth had ignored him.
“He was set up,” Rachel proclaimed and sat down. “I asked Voren about their weapons. He said they don’t have any missiles, not even handheld launchers. That all such weaponry was confiscated by the Alliance as part of the restrictions after the war. Which means it was brought here deliberately.”
That thought cleared Sascha’s head a little. “But why N’ameth? He’s the younger prince. Wouldn’t it have been better to target the palace like they did last time?”
Rachel chewed her lip. “The thing is, if they start attacking—from what I understand—they risk the wrath of the Karthians, and no one wants that.”
Sascha focused on Rachel’s words and tried to get her mind to work. “You think someone’s trying to get rid of the royal family? If all the princes were gone, how would they decide who was king?”
Rachel folded her arms a little defensively. “Apparently any Ishtaan warrior with the backing of his men, but they still have one problem.”
“What?”
“A queen,” Rachel said flatly. “If a warrior turns up with a queen, he can nearly walk right into the job.”
“You’re assuming Zak, Voren, and Azlaan are out of the picture?”
Rachel shrugged. “I could be completely off base. But which one of the princes is the most accessible?”
“N’ameth,” Sascha whispered. Azlaan and Zak were always surrounded by other warriors and at the palace most of the time, and if the Ishtaans cared about succession, that would leave Voren out. “What are they doing, then?”
Rachel shrugged. “I don’t know.” Her eyes softened. “I’m sorry. I was lucky to catch Voren as it was.” Sascha knew what she was saying. That it would be impossible to survive something like that.
Sascha rubbed her eyes and swallowed. She wasn’t going to cry. She wasn’t. Not until they knew absolutely. There was a knock on the door. Rachel opened it and looked in annoyance at whoever was there. “You got trackers on us or something?”
Azlaan stepped into the room, ignoring Rachel’s question. He looked at Sascha, and she felt tears well again despite her resolve. He didn’t need to say anything. “My king has tasked me with making sure you are well.”
Sascha jumped to her feet, suddenly angry. “What are you doing to find out who did this?”
Azlaan’s eyes shadowed. “The king is worried this might be a precursor to another attack. He insists all the warriors return to the palace.”
“But I thought no one would risk the wrath of the Karthians?” Sascha asked.
“They wouldn’t need to blow up the palace,” Azlaan said reluctantly. “They would simply have to kill the king, and the easiest way of getting to him is through his queen.”
Rachel’s eyes narrowed. “Why the females exactly? Why not the ruling family as well?”
That brought a glare from Azlaan. “I mean, Rachel of Earth, you wouldn’t be a target because you haven’t bonded with a warrior, but Queen Callista would be an immediate one.”
“You mean to blackmail Zak?” Sascha asked.
Azlaan didn’t answer. He opened the small box he had with him. It was the type of portable life-monitoring equipment he had used in the tent when they had arrived. Sascha sent a confused look to Rachel. He started attaching bands to Sascha’s wrist.
“What are you doing?” Sascha asked.
“She’s in shock, but she wasn’t injured,” Rachel said slowly, suspiciously.
Azlaan watched the small monitor, then nodded and undid the strap. He brought out some sort of handheld device that looked like an old-fashioned cell phone, and he raised it to Sasha’s head for a moment.
“Good,” he said, sounding relieved.
“What is?” Sascha asked bleakly because she couldn’t think of anything that was even vaguely good.
“I needed to check you over.” He was hedging. Sascha knew he was.
“Check me over for what?”
Azlaan hesitated. “Are you aware that an Ishtaan mating bond is for life? That as soon as the bond has happened that Callie, for example, will also live to the same age as Zak?”
Sascha nodded. She knew this. It had been one of their first questions when they had found out the Ishtaans’ cycle was the equivalent of about 18 months on Earth.
“And what has this got to do with me?”
“Because you are not Ishtaan. Having said that, we honestly don’t know what effect this has on human physiology.”
“Mating?” Rachel asked, curiosity in her voice.
“No, bonding. That’s the difference between a mate and a mulaa.”
Sascha rubbed her throbbing head. “I thought they were the same thing. The equivalent of marriage.” But then Q’at had said this.
“As females, you are all in danger because you have such value on this world, but Callie is at the most risk.”
“Duh,” Rachel said, rolling her eyes.
Azlaan stood up and packed away his equipment. “I don’t mean because of her being a queen, or not just that.”
“What do you mean?” Sascha asked, her heart speeding up to match the pounding in her head.
“I mean because Callie and Zak are bonded. Callie is Zak’s mulaa. If Callie dies, Zak will sicken and die quickly after.”
Sascha absorbed that.
“But that can’t be right,” Rachel said slowly. “Your mom died in an accident just after N’ameth was born.”
“My sire and matriche did not have the bond. Finding a mulaa is rare. It used to be something that all warriors waited for, but as our female population decreased, most stopped trying. People were lonely. A mate on Ishtaan is called a har’fe. The warrior and his har’fe can love each other, but the bond isn’t there.”
“Like Zak and Kaleth’s mom,” Sascha said quietly. And oh god, that was what Q’at had meant when he wished his mate had been his mulaa. Because he’d wanted to die when she did. She pressed her fingers to her lips and tried to swallow. “And I suppose the long life wouldn’t be an issue because female Ishtaans live as long as males anyway, whether they are bonded or not.” Azlaan nodded.
“So, you’re telling us the easiest way to get to Zak is through Callie?” Rachel asked.
“Absolutely, and without causing any incident likely to incur the wrath of Kartha.”
“Wait,” Rachel said. “Is that why you’re checking Sascha?”
Icy fingers clutched around Sascha’s heart. N’ameth called her his mulaa. Insisted on it.
“It is my duty to be cautious,” Azlaan said somberly. “The female of the pair is usually never affected. It is only the warrior who cannot survive the bond being broken. Human physiology is unknown—”
“You’re just a barrel of laughs, huh,” Rachel said.
Azlaan ignored her. “You are well. Either your species will follow the female Ishtaan rules, or you weren’t bonded.”
Yes, I was, her heart insisted. She’d known. Deep inside, she’d known from the second she’d woken up on the cruiser. It had always been N’ameth, and she’d been fighting it.
“I can post guards here, but it would really be better if you both were to return to the female suite. It would be easier to protect you all together.”
“Make us sitting ducks, you mean,” Rachel mumbled. Sascha knew—hoped—Azlaan wouldn’t understand, but she agreed with Rachel. And how long would this go on for? They didn’t have enough warriors to go charging all over the planet looking for whoever was responsible. “Do you think Xar’ta is behind this?”
“With help,” Azlaan conceded. “We just don’t know who.”
“I can’t go upstairs yet.” Sascha crossed her arms.
Azlaan looked as if he was going to argue, but simply nodded. Then Sascha realized who she was talking to and what it was costing him to speak to them. She reached out a hand and covered his. “I’m so sorry.”
For a moment, Azlaan looked completely defeated, but he straightened his shoulders, bowed, and left without another word. Sascha pressed a shaky hand to her lips.
Rachel sat down next to her. “Well, shit.”
Tears leaked out of Sascha’s eyes, but she glanced at Rachel. “You talk to the warriors, don’t you?” She nodded.
“Some of them aren’t bad. They came around when they realized they didn’t have to treat me differently.”
“Can you find out what’s happening?” She swallowed with difficulty. “If, if they’ve found—” But her throat completely closed, and she couldn’t get the words out. Rachel nodded and stood, then shocked her by squeezing her hand.
“I’ll go find Theron. He’ll tell me.”
Sascha wrapped her arms around her knees and rested her head on them. She didn’t know what to think, what to say. When Edward had died, she’d been so very sad. Life had cheated him of so much, but it had been like losing a good friend. She didn’t feel like her heart was being ripped out of her chest.
Why hadn’t she told N’ameth how she felt?
She’d left her parents because she didn’t want a life filled with regret and what-ifs. Then she’d come to an alien galaxy and done exactly the same thing.
She picked up the pillow and used it to muffle her sobs.
Wrung out, she must have dozed. She opened her scratchy eyes to see Rachel letting herself back into the room. She gratefully held out her hand for the glass of fresh gava juice Rachel offered her. “What I wouldn’t give for even mess coffee right now,” Rachel said, then shrugged.
“I’m sorry you’re stuck on babysitting duty.”
Rachel smiled a little. “You don’t need babysitting. I’m here because of what I’ve found out.” She eyed her. “How do you feel?”
“Fine,” Sascha said flatly, even if it was a lie. She had felt mildly nauseous since that morning, but it was hardly surprising. “What did you find out?”
“They didn’t find N’ameth’s body.”
Sascha flinched. The Ishtaans believed that the body had to be burned during a funeral ceremony to ensure they ascended to Ash’dar, their version of heaven. She’d never asked what happened to the souls that didn’t make it. Having had religion rammed down her throat all her childhood, she avoided it now at all costs. But maybe that was a good thing? It meant he hadn’t suffered.
She looked up because Rachel hadn’t said anything else. Rachel was watching her steadily, as if she was waiting for her to say something. “No one could survive the shuttle exploding.”
“I know.”
“But?” Sascha asked when she caught the tiniest hesitation.
“Bluntly?” Rachel arched an eyebrow. Sascha nodded, feeling sick, but she straightened her spine. “Bodies don’t disappear. There was wreckage, so whatever this weapon is, it didn’t disintegrate the shuttle, more broke it apart. There was a lot of fire, but no—”
Sascha held her hand up. She got the picture. “What does that mean?”
“I don’t know, but if I was Zak, I’d be organizing a search party, not a funeral.” Sascha gazed at her, a tiny flicker of hope warming her insides.
“I don’t want to convince you of something that might not be true.”
“But why isn’t Zak doing something?” Sascha said in frustration.
“We don’t know that they aren’t. They aren’t likely to tell a trainee.”
“You mean Theron.” Theron had been a villager Rachel had challenged. He was about to start his warrior training, and from what Callie told Sascha, Rachel hadn’t gone easy on him. In fact, she had gotten frustrated when he refused to fight back until Voren had succinctly told her she was being an ass. But since then, Theron and Rachel seemed to have become friends.
“Then maybe we should go ask the source?”
Sascha stared at Rachel. “He might not see us.”
“And we might just be what he needs,” Rachel said darkly. “Even if he doesn’t know that yet.”
“I want to be you when I grow up,” Sascha muttered as she followed Rachel out the door. The warriors fell into step behind them, but they walked confidently toward the rooms that held the planning meetings, as if they both knew Zak wouldn’t be in the assembly rooms. They paused as they reached the outer door. The meeting room suite was a separate wing of the palace and could be divided as small or as large as Zak wished. Sascha held her head high as they requested admittance. N’ameth was alive. She was sure of it.
Zak looked up as they walked in. He was surrounded by Voren—who immediately scowled—Lam’saak, R’orsch, D’estaan, Elder Ptorean, and Ner’oh.
Sascha straightened her spine, and Zak rested his gaze on her. Understanding and grief flowed between them without one word being spoken.
“We want to be included.”
Even Sascha jerked at Rachel’s words, but she was exactly right. Whatever they felt, whatever they guessed at, they wanted to be included.
For a moment, Sascha thought Zak would agree, but then a shutter came down over his expression. “You can’t. You are in too much danger.”
Rachel scoffed, but Sascha laid a hand on her arm. They would get nowhere with a pissing contest. “We know you haven’t found a body.”
Grief edged Zak’s features. “It could be that he was thrown. There was damage to the shuttle before it finally exploded.”
“Or he’s alive,” Sascha whispered. There was silence as every warrior looked at their king.
“Which is why we are searching for him,” Zak ground out hollowly. “Did you really think we wouldn’t look?”
Pink suffused Sascha’s face, but she had to ask. “I was told you had recalled all the warriors to the palace.” She didn’t mean to imply Zak had given up, but as the words registered and fury glinted in Zak’s eyes, she knew that was how it had sounded.
“I will never stop looking for my brother until I hold his body in my arms.” It was Sascha’s turn to pale.
“We want to help. What can we do?”
Zak was silent for a moment while hope beat in her chest, but then he lowered his gaze. “Stay safe in the women’s quarters so I don’t expend warriors guarding you.”
She grasped Rachel’s hand to keep her silent. This was her show. She inclined her head as if in agreement, and they both left. Stay safe in the women’s quarters?
It would be a cold day in hell.
