Freed By the Alien Prince by Tori Kellett
Chapter Six
N’ameth didn’t sleep, not that he was surprised, even after he had Voren’s confirmation that Sas’ka—no, Sascha—had returned to her room safely after seeing Callie. He didn’t like that she hadn’t gone straight to bed. He liked the conversation he had with Zak informing him of his decision to allow her to go to the site even less. Part of him, abstractly, could see the sense in everything Zak said, but he doubted Zak would have sounded so reasonable if it had been Callie going to the mining camp. And worse, not only was she preparing for a longer stay up there, but Voren had been put in charge of her security, and he expected the female Rachel to be going as well because no one seemed to be able to stop her from doing anything.
Zak had explained that N’ameth’s sole priority was Xar’ta, and that not only did a lot depend on any information he could get out of the vescht, but that keeping Xar’ta secure meant everyone was safer. But the thought of Sascha being anywhere near that monster filled him with dread. He still wasn’t sure what had gone wrong. He had told her that she was his mulaa, and she had just walked away. Even as a young, he had been taught that a mulaa was a sacred thing for a warrior—something most warriors were never likely to experience—but she had refused him, even after they had shared their bodies. He didn’t understand. And while Zak might, N’ameth didn’t think he could survive the embarrassment of asking his older brother. In many ways, Zak had been more of a sire to him than their own, and he desperately wanted to do something to make him proud. He loved all of his brothers, but finding Razorr wasn’t just about getting him back safely; it was attempting to repay the debts he owed Zak he could never manage another way.
Brey from the village had been contacted and was to accompany Sascha, which made N’ameth feel a little better. Brey at least was familiar with the type of natural dangers Sascha might be at risk from. They also had two farmers from N’olaan interested in relocating and an older Ishtaan pair—St’ark, who had lost his mate ten years previously, and Jildarr, his younger brother from Brey’s village. In his sire’s day, Jildarr would have been executed because he was one of a few Ishtaans who refused the genome editing, even though he was of age, but he had hidden, or the villagers had hidden him, until Zak had made it clear he didn’t feel the same way. They were too old to either fight or sire young now, but they had a wealth of valuable experience and a wish to help rebuild their planet.
N’ameth knew he needed to start overseeing the new warriors. Their training had been lacking because of the limited number of warriors with experience, and if they were attacked, they would need everyone to be able to fight. He didn’t want to be anywhere Sascha wasn’t, but he couldn’t stay at the camp indefinitely. He might have to think about what role Julien was to have now that he had stopped flying daily.
Had he stopped? They had only gotten away with crossing the Dark because of the story about rescuing females. He didn’t want to stop trying to find his brother, but he needed a better ship.
He had a million thoughts in his head as he neared the shuttle site, but when he saw Sascha, he could only think of her. She didn’t even look at him. The dull ache in his chest sharpened.
“My prince.”
N’ameth turned and saw Zurtak and G’oresh standing at either side of a shackled Xar’ta. He looked a little less desperate. He was clean, for starters, and didn’t look anyone in the eye. Good. N’ameth needed him to fear what would happen. Filth like Xar’ta only understood fear and cruelty, wielding and dealing it like currency.
“I have the separate shuttle ready.” Voren jogged over, but N’ameth didn’t take his eyes from Xar’ta.
“Good. I will pilot it, but I want Xar’ta secured. Zurtak and G’oresh will be with me, and you can put in as many supplies as you wish. The rest of the warriors will go in the other shuttle.” He wouldn’t budge on this. He wanted Sascha to have every protection he could physically put in place. Voren would pilot the other shuttle, and N’ameth would fly his into the ground before he would risk the vescht getting free or getting to Sascha. Either way, she would be protected.
Xar’ta licked his lips as his eyes slid over to where the females were standing. N’ameth deliberately moved to block his sight. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like it at all. He thought Zak had agreed because he was feeling guilty over the way he had treated Sascha, or maybe it was the queen’s influence. There just weren’t enough warriors.
The journey was uneventful, Xar’ta was silent, and N’ameth immediately spotted the differences as they landed. The central area that the wounded miners had been thrown in was replaced by an area with tables and chairs, but more importantly, a large overhead canvas to block as much sun as possible. A lot of the cabins seemed to be occupied, including the new cleansing ones set up with showers similar to what they had on the cruisers. The cabin that had belonged to Xar’ta was gone. After removing the much needed protein bars, Zak had unceremoniously set a torch to it and burned it down.
Food was still plain, but they now had protein bars, and the camp wasn’t the silent, depressed place he remembered. The N’olaans were also bringing supplies to make flat cakes that tasted a hundred times better than the leaves. There was even talk of making it a permanent settlement and bringing supplies to make the cabins into homes.
The only thing missing was the young, but they were missing all over Ishtaan.
And Zak and Callie had insisted that no Ishtaans under the age of fourteen cycles would work the mines and limited them to safer roles.
Lam’saak and one of the Ishtaan warriors hurried over. Both brought their arms across their chest in the traditional sign of obedience to N’ameth.
He stated the additional purpose of their visit. “We are setting up a medicinal research program under the king’s orders. There is a chance the soil here is perfect for the type of plants we need. The Earth female Sascha has experience on her world in this.”
Lam’saak watched as Xar’ta—still shackled—was led from the shuttle. “King Zakaarir has commanded we take any bodies home to ensure their ascension into Ash’dar and has agreed to a possible stay of execution for the prisoner in exchange.” N’ameth explained for their audience even though Lam’saak knew the other reason they were here. “Perhaps you would show me around what you have managed to establish so far.” The Ishtaan guard Q’at took a step as if about to follow them, but N’ameth waved to the shuttles. “I need all available warriors to unload the equipment.” Q’at looked surprised and glanced unhappily at Lam’saak but did as he was bid.
“He doesn’t trust me,” Lam’saak said very matter-of-factly as they moved away.
N’ameth glanced at him in surprise. “Why?”
“Because I am of the Zirca Seven.” Lam’saak said it evenly without a shred of bitterness, as if it had been accepted long ago.
“Your elder sire was of the Zirca Seven, Lam’saak. Not you.”
“Sorry, are we interrupting?”
They both turned to see Sascha and Rachel. N’ameth was thrilled she had sought him out and presented them officially to Lam’saak. Lam’saak bowed and thumped his chest. “I have had the honor of meeting Sascha, but not the warrior Rachel.”
“What is Zirca Seven?” Rachel asked bluntly but looked pleased at how Lam’saak had addressed her.
N’ameth glanced at Lam’saak, but he didn’t seem perturbed by the question. “Zirca Seven is the name given to a rebellion on our planet against my elder sire by seven of the colonies nearest the Zirca desert. It is another shameful part of Ishtaan’s past and led to the unjust and permanent exile of the families who had a warrior who rebelled. All their families. Lam’saak is one of their descendants and why he was with the N’olaans.”
For once, even Rachel didn’t seem to have a reply. Sascha’s eyes reflected her concern as she glanced around the camp. “I didn’t mean to interrupt—just wondered where the female accommodation will be so we can get settled.”
“We have a central cabin often used for the sick, but it is empty now and can easily be heavily guarded.”
“Yeah, no.” N’ameth was unsurprised to see Rachel had recovered her voice quickly. “Brey wants somewhere nearer the edge of the camp, and I can guard us.” Her hand tapped her weapons belt. “And we all know Sascha can shoot,” she said impishly.
N’ameth wisely, he hoped, kept his opinions to himself, but looked in her direction. She gazed back at him, meeting his eyes for what seemed the first time. “Sascha, I would be grateful if you could spare me a moment to talk.” He had to try and explain. He wasn’t sure what to say, but at least if they were talking, it was a start. Lam’saak moved away respectfully out of earshot. Rachel’s eyebrows rose inquiringly at Sascha, and N’ameth’s heart gave a painful throb as she gave a small shake of her head. Was her opinion of him so bad she didn’t trust him without another to protect her?
“I owe you an apology, my Sascha.”
She was silent for a very long second. “Thank you, but I’m not your anything.” N’ameth moved forward and clasped her arm.
“I mean—”
“Let go.” He did immediately, and she nodded as if she was pleased. “At least you respect my wishes this morning.” Then she whirled and stalked back to the cabins, Rachel following her.
Respect my wishes? And all the blood seemed to drain from his face. He could almost feel the ice slither under his skin. He frantically went over their conversation, and the thought he had forced her, intimidated her into sharing their bodies, made him want to be violently sick. He swallowed with difficulty. Was he turning into the same sort of monster as— But he couldn’t even finish the thought.
“My prince?”
He turned to Lam’saak but barely heard him speak. As soon as this was over, he would take his cruiser and not come back. And this time if the Alliance wanted to blast him from the Dark he wouldn’t care.
