Freed By the Alien Prince by Tori Kellett

Chapter Seven

“Who is the Ishtaan female?” Lam’saak asked as if he hadn’t noticed anything wrong, and N’ameth pulled himself together. Lam’saak wouldn’t know how he felt about Sascha. He probably thought, like everyone else, he was going to mate Lexie. He needed to talk to Lexie. Even though Sascha had rejected him, Lexie wasn’t for him.

“Brey is from one of the villages closest to the palace. She has experience with our natural enemies and likes solitude. I believe they will not be deterred.” Much as he hated it, he knew why Brey was saying this. They needed a certain amount of freedom within reason. Even though it was still dark, dawn and then the stifling heat associated with it would arrive rapidly within two hours. Already the sky was turning gray to make seeing where they were going easier.

“My prince?” Zurtak joined them, and N’ameth sighed. “Get him in the central cabin. I want guards inside and out. His hands may be freed, but keep his ankles shackled until we are ready to move.”

Zurtak thumped his chest and jogged back.

“I am surprised he still breathes,” Lam’saak noted. “If what the miners told me last night is even half-true.”

“Unfortunately,” N’ameth said grimly, “my king has agreed to imprisonment rather than execution in return for identifying the graves. We have other bodies that must be retrieved so they can ascend.”

Lam’saak nodded. “The N’olaans believe there is no such afterlife. That the ultimate reward or punishment happens in this one.”

N’ameth knew that. He also knew N’olaan had simply two seasons called Light and Dark because of the slow rotation of their planet. The Light was where everything grew, people prospered, children were born. The Dark was where their outside world nearly went into hibernation. Their world still functioned, obviously, but the people had to retreat indoors as atmospheric conditions became dangerous to all except the Ankana. The Ankana were an indigenous race said to live in secret passages up in the mountains, rumored to be more animal than humanoid, savage, and said to kill anyone not of their clan on sight.

The N’olaans he had met so far were rational on the whole, with the obvious exception of Senator Vashti—now dead, thankfully. He would be interested to meet the miners he had transported here last month and see how they were getting on with the Ishtaans.

“I am surprised to learn none of the other Earth females are mated yet,” Lam’saak said almost diffidently as they walked back to the cabins. “And that they were all at the Assembly except I believe one?”

N’ameth took a breath and tried to calm. “We said we would give them some time to choose a warrior but that they were expected to mate.”

Lam’saak’s eyes fell on Sascha, and N’ameth had to press his lips together to stop the growl escaping. The sky was light enough for them to see where they were going, and he was suddenly eager to get started. The sooner they started, the sooner this torture would be over. “What time does the first shift go down?”

“They are about to return, my prince,” Lam’saak said respectfully. “They will sleep, and then the second shift goes down as the day is cooling. I am hoping to get ventilation in the mines soon,” he said apologetically.

“It’s not your fault,” N’ameth said. “Our sire prevented us from any interference in operations. I need to take Xar’ta to the caves, but I wish to accompany the second shift this dark.” He needed to know what they were up against and as soon as Xar’ta was returned he would investigate.

If Lam’saak was surprised, he gave no sign of it. N’ameth dismissed him to make sure his men were safe and hurried to see Voren.

“You cannot,” Voren bit out to the female Rachel as N’ameth approached.

“Why?” she challenged equally as frostily.

“Because all the warriors are needed for this mission. We cannot spare anyone to escort you.”

“We don’t need any warriors to escort us,” Sascha said. “Rachel has enough firepower for the both of us, but in case we hit problems, we both know I can handle a gun.”

Voren heaved a put-upon sigh and turned to N’ameth almost beseechingly.

“I do understand if this is something private for Ishtaans though,” Sascha said softly. N’ameth wanted to grab onto that excuse so firmly with both hands, but he kept his mouth closed by sheer force of will. She would understand if finding their people was a sacred act requiring privacy, but that went against everything they were asking them to do. They wanted the females to settle and be happy here. Excluding them from this would only create a division, and he had enough of one with her already.

Besides, a small part of N’ameth didn’t want to leave Sascha with Lam’saak. Not that it wouldn’t happen when he was forced to return to the palace, and now that he knew he didn’t have a chance with her, it didn’t really matter.

“Very well.” He glanced at Voren. “Make sure Sascha has a weapon and that she is comfortable with it. I doubt if Brey wishes one for herself, but ask.”

In the end, N’ameth compromised. He, Xar’ta, Zurtak, and G’oresh went in front a small distance away. Ro’man and Cezar positioned themselves behind, then the females, and lastly Voren and Q’at.

“Which way?” He snapped out to get Xar’ta’s attention because his eyes kept going to the women. For a moment, he was tempted to unchain Xar’ta and have him run, just so he could shoot him, but that wouldn’t be as satisfying. If Xar’ta looked in Sascha’s direction one more time, he would break his neck with his bare hands.

Xar’ta gazed around the clearing and nodded to the trees. “About a quarter of a mark,” Xar’ta said dully. “There is a cave.” N’ameth got on his communicator and relayed the information to Voren. He didn’t want the females coming near the cave. Voren said Brey had found an area of hillside with some plants that she wanted to show Sascha, so they would explore there until he returned.

He would have been much happier if the females had stayed in the camp while they dealt with Xar’ta. He didn’t like them being here, but he had little choice. He didn’t trust them not to decide to go wandering off as soon as he had left the camp. At least if they joined him, he would know where Sascha was at all times.

He hadn’t explored this area before as their sire had refused to allow them to come. The area was littered with caves. Veerlash weren’t a problem here as the frequent shuttles taking off and landing, coupled with the noise of the mining equipment, kept them away. So long as Xar’ta was in sight, he could keep his Sascha safe.

“In there.” Xar’ta came to a sudden stop.

“Who is?”

Xar’ta shrugged. “The king didn’t like hearing about dead miners. We didn’t ask their names.”

N’ameth fisted his hands. He didn’t know how he kept them to himself. But as soon as every last body was accounted for, no one would stop him.

N’ameth gazed at the hillside. For a moment, he couldn’t see a cave, but as he stepped closer, the scrub thinned and a gap was visible in the rocks. It was big enough for him to get through, which had worried him, although Xar’ta wasn’t much smaller. Someone the size of Zak would have no chance, and Voren wasn’t much smaller than him. He peered closer, his eyes adjusting to the darkness, and caught a musty smell. He jogged back down to Xar’ta. “How far does it go down?”

“The hills are full of caves,” Xar’ta said. “That one goes at least a full mark back, but I haven’t tried any further.”

N’ameth caught and held his gaze. “How many?” Xar’ta tried to look away, but N’ameth stepped closer and grabbed Xar’ta by his chin, squeezing tight. “I said, how many?”

“I don’t know,” he said shrilly. “I was stuck here for years. How did you think I got here originally? Volunteered?” he spat out, and N’ameth let him go. “My village was raided. I was thirteen cycles.”

“And that makes what you did acceptable?” N’ameth roared back, just about out of patience. “You disgust me.” He yanked him close, satisfied to see the fear in his eyes, turned, and threw him against one of the rocks. “After you.”

Xar’ta scrambled toward the entrance, Zurtak and G’oresh on his heels, and he took a step to follow them.

“My prince?” He turned at Q’at’s shout and followed up to where he was pointing at one of the scrub bushes, dried and brown, that dotted the hillside. For a long second, he didn’t understand what Q’at was shouting for, but after he’d quickly scanned the hillside and he looked back at the bush, it moved. Slid. Understanding slammed into him, and he yelled to Zurtak, who was about ten feet above him.

“A slide. Get down,” he yelled, and he just had time to look behind him, heart pounding like it was trying to break free, for any sign of Sascha, when a tremendous roar signaled the start of falling rocks and Xar’ta screamed.

Until the moment that he didn’t.