Chapter Eight
“Sire.” Aiden bent his head and approached the hand-carved desk that was specially made for Umar. “We have lost contact with the transporter carrying the princess.”
Aiden’s hands shook as he twisted them together. He fought the urge to fiddle with his meager brown servant robe. He hated talking directly to Umar and especially coming to his office. Unfortunately, he would have this job from now on, seeing how the previous aide had been “reassigned”.
Umar’s office had more space and furniture than any of the servant’s quarters. All the furniture was expertly crafted by the finest artists and made from highly coveted Dostrian wood. His furniture had been transported across the galaxy by armed guard. Yes, it was that expensive.
The paintings on the walls and the glass vases and statues lining the shelves were also done by the galaxy’s highly coveted artisans. Just like Umar’s personal quarters, his office dripped with an abundance of credits.
Umar seemed to ignore him. The fact that Umar’s menacing eyes weren’t glaring at him should’ve made Aiden feel better. But it only put Aiden on high alert.
“Sire,” Aiden said again, this time projecting his shaky voice louder. Umar opened one light-colored eye and stared at Aiden through a narrow slit. Aiden inhaled and quickly stepped away. “We…we have lost contact with the transporter.”
“Explain yourself.” Umar closed his eye again and Aiden inwardly sighed. Umar’s bald head swayed slightly in time with the music, the epitome of calm and relaxation. From experience, Aiden knew differently. He maintained his distance.
“Our contact has not reported in. Her last transmission was three rotations ago.”
Umar continued to sway, seemingly unperturbed. Despite his massive girth, Umar could lunge forward and smack down a servant without a hint of emotion or remorse. Aiden had been on the receiving end of such violent outbursts on many occasions. The scars left by Umar’s diamond rings dotted Aiden’s face and back.
Aiden stood anxiously for several minutes before Umar calmly asked, “What were their last coordinates?”
“Sonis, Sire.”
Umar grabbed a glass statue from his desk and hurled it. Aiden ducked. The statue whizzed past his ear to hit the wall, where it shattered into shiny black pieces behind him.
“I want the credits offered for her return doubled.” Peering through the slits of his eyes, Umar leaned across his desk to whisper, “I want her alive.”
Aiden scurried from Umar’s office to carry out the tyrant’s orders. He felt sorry for his princess. But what could he do? Refusal to follow Umar’s order would result in a nasty ending to his otherwise tolerable life.
Umar relaxed into his seat as the aide scurried away. The palace staff feared him. Good. He enjoyed the unrelenting power—power he planned to enjoy for many more cycles to come.
He had earned it. Umar’s lips formed into a tight, thin line. He had waited so long, biding his time, waiting on his older sister, the former queen, hand and foot. No one had been happier than he when the crowned King of Laconia had fallen in love with Umar’s sister, a commoner.
Umar had positioned himself at her side. He had been her closest confidant, giving her advice, offering her solace. It had been natural for his sister to make him her personal advisor.
When had the tides turned? When had Umar realized he could run the palace better than the king and queen? He did not know.
It had started off small, the things he had wanted to change. Had he asked for her permission? No. He made most of the decisions anyway.
To everyone watching, he had played the dutiful brother, supporting the queen relentlessly. But on the inside, he plotted and planned her downfall. His plan had been an easy one. There had been no other way around it, the king and queen had to die. They stood in his way. The way of a perfectly run planet.
Umar would have loved to position himself as king after their deaths. But Laconia was a backward world. The citizens had a strong belief that only those with royal blood could rule. He could’ve taken the planet by force, using all of the royal credits that were at his disposal to finance his war. But there would’ve been a rebellion, one that he didn’t want to drain the royal account—now his—fighting.
No, it had been economically feasible to rule from behind the scenes. He could rule behind the heir, the most vulnerable and pliable royal. Princess Sa’Mya. Of course after the “accident”, he had stepped in and appeared as her doting uncle, naming himself as her advisor. It had been the perfect plan.
Umar had spent the past nineteen cycles overseeing the day-to-day operations of the planet. He had groomed Sa’Mya into a fool whose only concerns had been her attire. He had kept her in the best of health, pampering her to no end, all the while making all the decisions. It had worked out perfectly. The planet now ran as he had envisioned.
Although he had been her guardian, he had no real authority. Umar didn’t mind. He enjoyed the perks immensely. He would enjoy them until he died.
Then she had betrayed him in the worst way.
She had escaped.
Her guard had been behind that stunt, Umar was sure of it. Sa’Mya hadn’t thought of the idea on her own. Umar should’ve killed Nebin a long time ago.
When he got her back—and he would—she would suffer for her insolence.
After the announcement of her pending union to King Taio, he had thought everything was lost. His first response had been to mount an attack against the densely populated moon to get at the princess. But his advisors had pointed out that Sonis’s defense systems would blow all of Laconia’s war vessels away. He had to wait and waiting had paid off.
She wasn’t going to mate with King Taio and she would be hers to control once again.
Umar snatched opened his desk drawer and pulled out the next stage of his plan. When the princess reached her twenty-fifth birth cycle, she would be of age. He would no longer be her legal guardian.
Before she fled, he had been in the process of completing the finishing touches on the bonding contract. The princess was expected to marry soon, especially after being crowned queen. But of course, she couldn’t marry just anyone.
He read the first line and smiled.
I, Princess Sa’Mya Lacolil, hereby legally consent to bond in union to Antony Wymbch.
He would force Sa’Mya to bond with his son Antony. Antony was almost twenty cycles. He had been primed to join with Sa’Mya since childhood. Umar had secret conversations with the boy, planting the seed. His son was the one person he trusted to place as king.
After Antony and Princess Sa’Mya bonded, they would have children. Those children would also be prepped from birth as to how things would work and who would be in charge. Umar would be the true ruler.
Umar chuckled low in his throat. His protruding stomach bounced. Even in marriage she would not escape him. Not even her children would escape him.
That slinorim worm.
Umar hurled another statue at the closed door. To regain control of his temper, he stroked the front page of the contract. He would find her. And when he did, she would pay immensely for all the trouble she caused.
* * * * *
Son of a Uurosolian whore.
Kane had kept Sa’Mya trapped in his cabin for the past three rotations without a change of clothes or her aides.
Kane was hardly in the room and when he was, he barely spoke two words to her. He still slept on the floor pallet, dragging it as far away from the bed as he could possibly get. It was apparent that Kane didn’t want her in his cabin and as far as she could tell, Kane didn’t want to be anywhere near her. So why hadn’t he given her the other room she’d requested?
In the beginning, she tried to give him the same silent treatment he’d given her, but it hadn’t worked. He actually seemed to prefer she didn’t talk. So then she started talking, really started talking, nonstop about every and anything. He didn’t seem to mind that either. He still ignored her though.
By the fourth day, she was good and fed up. Sa’Mya woke first, planning to catch Kane before he left her alone. She placed herself on the floor, sitting cross-legged next to his head. She stretched his shirt she wore past her knees. And waited.
This was actually the first time she’d been able to study him up close and unencumbered. He looked…peaceful.
His hair stood up and was cut low on the sides. Now and again, she had wanted to run her fingers through the strands and caress each one. But she dared not touch the captain.
He’s asleep.
Maybe she could… Sa’Mya couldn’t resist any longer. She reached out with a hesitant hand and lightly touched his hair. It was as soft as she had imagined. She let her palm skim across the top. The tips of hair tickled her palm.
She fought the urge to lace her fingers through the strands and down to his scalp. Kane stirred slightly and she yanked away, afraid he would wake. A puff of air escaped his lips and he murmured a plea. His brow scrunched and his eyelids squeezed tighter. He gripped the pillow until his knuckles turned white.
“No, no. Please, God, no. Anna, please. I need you.”
Startled at first, she sat back. Who was this Anna he called out for, again? Her first thought was to get back into bed. Wait for him to wake up then talk to him regarding her treatment thus far. But what she hadn’t intended to do was lay a gentle hand on his bare shoulder, stilling the involuntary tremble that had started there.
“Please. I can’t live without you. Don’t leave me alone. I don’t want to be alone,” he pleaded.
His face twisted and contorted in his sleep. A tear dripped down his reddened cheek.
“Our babies. God, no. Not the babies. Don’t take the babies too.” He shook his head from side to side.
Her heart dropped, gripped with the pain he was experiencing. She had the urge to kiss his hurt away. “Shhh, it will be all right,” she coaxed. Her thumb gingerly massaged his brow, working out the stress and tension he held there. “It’s going to be all right.”
Kane’s lids fluttered open. A confused, reddened gaze rested on her. Then, in a heartbeat, his gaze turned hard and cold.
He smacked her hand away and sat up. “What the hell are you doing?”
The blanket dropped to his waist, revealing a muscular chest dotted with fine curly hairs that made a path down his chiseled abs.
“I asked what the hell you were doing.”
Sa’Mya’s eyes snapped up. “You…you were having a bad dream. I meant to help.”
Kane cocked his head to the side. “Don’t touch me. Keep your filthy alien hands off me.”
Sa’Mya flushed. He couldn’t understand her, but it didn’t stop her from continuing. “I wanted to speak with you before you left. My hair…” She shook as she touched her matted hair. Surely he could see the mess it had become. He didn’t need an interpreter for that. She tugged at his shirt. “My clothes.”
Kane’s look of indifference suggested he understood what she asked for but didn’t care. “No.” Kane stood and wrapped the blanket around his waist.
No? How. Dare. He.
She may be a prisoner, but she had pride. A sense of dignity. “I hate you! When I’m free I’m going to throw you into my dungeon and feed you to a filibister beast,” she screamed. “Where is that other human, Ryan? I want you to be able to understand what I intend to do to you!”
Her threats fell on deaf ears. She stomped her feet and kicked his boots. Unperturbed, Kane grabbed his clothes and turned his back on her. As he headed to the bathroom Sa’Mya followed him and tripped over the pillow he had left on the floor. She thought she heard him snicker.
I hate him.
She picked up the pillow and hurled it at him. He didn’t stop to acknowledge her or the pillow. Her mind clouded with fury.
“Whatever part of you the filibister beast doesn’t eat, I’ll hang from the palace walls,” she seethed.
Kane had ignored her for the last time. She stepped in front of the sliding door, halting it on its track.
“It will serve as a lesson to all. Princess Sa’Mya demands respect.” She was tired of Uncle Umar, King Taio and Captain Kane. It didn’t matter the species, all males were the same. She banged her flat palm on the wall. The noise caused Kane to still. She waited for him to turn around.
Kane pulled on his clothes without as much as a glance. She picked up the broken comb from the counter and hurled it at him. The comb whizzed through the air and hit him square on his head before bouncing off to the floor.
Cool and calm, Kane picked up the comb. She balled her fists at her sides as he rolled the object through his fingers, watching it. A sinister smile crossed his lips. As he stepped closer to her, she straightened, ready. He had degraded her at every turn. What were a few more hurtful words going to do to her?
She flinched as Kane brought his hand up. Instead of a blow, he raked the comb in her hair, where it snagged on a knot. Howling in pain, she pushed him away. Kane laughed and stepped around her. Sa’Mya ripped the comb from her hair and blocked his path.
“I don’t have time for your games.” Kane picked her up as though she weighed nothing and moved her out of his way.
“I will not be ignored,” she yelled as she watched him walk away. At the door, he glanced her way and left. The door closed and locked behind him. “I didn’t do anything to you.”
Red-faced, she picked up any and everything she could find and smashed it to pieces. The walls and floor served as the backdrop to her canvas of destruction. Her justified destruction. This would be the very last time anyone toyed with her.
“Princess.”
Sa’Mya stopped and listened.
Nebin?
“Princess, where are you?”
It is Nebin.
She ran to the communication panel, eyeing the buttons. Where was he? Which cabin had he called her from? Kane and his crew would hear her conversation but she had no choice. She selected the open-channel button.
“Nebin! Nebin! I’m here. Are you safe?”
“I am fine, Princess. Where are you?”
“I’m being held in the captain’s cabin.”
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. We’re on the open-channel. We can’t talk long. How are you? Are they treating you well?”
“Do not concern yourself with me. I shall leave this room and retrieve you. Please forgive that I let these scavengers incapacitate me.”
“No, Nebin, I have a plan. Don’t come after me, stay put.”
“That is not an option.”
“Please, Nebin. Trust me.”
“Are you sure? What about your—”
“I’m sure. It will work out.” It had to.
As she suspected, Kane arrived soon after she disconnected with Nebin. He took one long, silent look around. She sat innocently in the middle of the floor, surrounded by torn papers and smashed glass with the remnants of a pair of pants in her hands. She had expertly used a bit of broken glass to shred them to pieces. She stopped and smiled her most radiant and dazzling smile ever.
This would be the last time he underestimated her.
Without a word, Kane went to a small trunk in the far corner and checked its contents. She watched him intently. She hadn’t noticed the trunk.
Sa’Mya smiled wider. At that moment she decided when he left again, she would stomp his trunk to itty-bitty pieces. Maybe then she would get her own room. A chuckle escaped her lips.
Kane’s murderous gaze fell on her. The hairs on her neck stood on end and her stomach flipped. The smile on her lips faded. This was it.
He’s going to kill me.
Kane let out a feral growl. Sa’Mya yelped and scrambled away as fast as she could. She crawled on the floor and ignored the pain. She had to reach the entrance to the bathroom.
Kane let out an animalistic roar. His boots crunched on glass and wood as he came up behind her. She scrambled away faster. Sharp pain erupted in her knees and hands. She ignored it and she continued forward. If only she could get to the bathroom.
Her bloodcurdling scream filled the room as he grabbed her by her hair and yanked her up.
“You destroyed my property?” he snarled. He slung her roughly over his shoulder.
She cried out as it bit into her ribs.
“It’s your fault. All I wanted was my clothes and a separate room.”
Kane threw her on the bed, where she bounced forcefully. Sa’Mya rolled away cradling her injured side. Pain raced through every nerve.
He growled. “You could have destroyed my heart in your little hissy fit.”
Without warning, he grabbed the front of her shirt and twisted it in his fist.
She kicked wildly at him. “Leave me alone,” she screamed. He was going to kill her, she just knew it.
A smile played on his lips. She stared at him wide-eyed. He’s gone crazy, she thought as he ripped the shirt off her.
“Since you don’t respect other people’s belongings, you don’t get to have any,” he whispered.
Sa’Mya narrowed her eyes. “You’ve already taken everything away from me.”
Kane stood over her and let the torn material fall from his grasp. “You will make this cabin immaculate. When I return, everything will be restored to my satisfaction.”
“With or without clothes, I still hate you.” Sa’Mya threw her torn shirt at his retreating back.
Kane stopped in his tracks and turned to glare at her. “I will kill you if you so much as touch my trunk. I will kill your crew while you watch.”
Sa’Mya stilled. “They haven’t done anything to you,” she whispered.
Kane smiled. “Your death will be slow and painful.”
“Stop threatening me.”
“I will piss on your bodies and throw all of you out the air lock to float in space for eternity.”
She shrank from him. “That…that is…not nice.”
“Do you understand me?”
Terrified, she nodded in muted shock. She wanted to get his attention. She didn’t want to die in the process. This was bad.