Chapter 3
Time passes much too quickly, and much too slowly, before his servant finally picks me up.
The woman who came could barely hide her contempt, and probably didn’t see any need to. She bathed me, pinned up my hair and dressed me. Today, on this special occasion, I finally have clothes that fit. I am made up like a whore, from the see-through lingerie and the snugly fitting dress, to the strange jewelry. By the time she is finished, my stomach is churning. At the same time, I wish this procedure would last forever. Not only am I nervous because I am going to sleep with Zeyliv. The thought of having to read Mangali’s thoughts is even worse. There are already enough aliens on Betania who have reason to hate me. Mangali will never forgive me for taking Hathura’s place in Zeyliv’s bed.
When the time has come, and the man with the falcon leads me down the hallway, I feel like I am on my way to the gallows. His name is Keythari, and he was the first Betanian I had tried my abilities on. He is maintaining a certain distance from me, and shows me which way to go with hand signals only.
Zeyliv is waiting for me in his private chambers. I can’t call them anything else. Even though the furnishing is modest, bordering almost on Spartan, you can’t deny a certain feel of luxury that prevails in the huge room. The bed catches my eye first. Not only is it huge, but it is also up in a gallery in the middle of the room. I blush furiously when I realize that soon, I will be lying in this bed that is so full of symbolism. The bed has four posts that reach all the way up to the ceiling. An opaque fabric surrounds the bed, but is currently tied back at the sides, so I have a clear view of the opulent bed of pillows and blankets. This thing is a strange mix of playground and throne. Everything else in the room has been kept very modest. A low table with a few chairs grouped casually around it, and a desk – that’s it. The whitewashed walls give off a brilliant white, and the floor is so clean, you could eat off it.
Zeyliv is lying on the floor, casually leaning on his bent arm, and is playing with his felines. They are wrestling with each other, and the one cat keeps snapping at his hand without actually biting it. He is wearing nothing other than a pair of loose, black pants made out of a shiny fabric that rustles every time he moves. I am so fascinated by this picture that I barely notice when Keythari closes the door behind me.
Zeyliv looks up when he hears the door shutting quietly. His claws were out for the game, in addition to his fangs, but he retracts them now. With a flick of the wrist, he sends the Machairos out through the open door into the garden.
We are alone.
The mood between us is strange. It is somehow charged, but I am not sure with what. On my end, it is fear, which has been nesting somewhere deep in my gut. Now it is spreading to every single cell in my body. Before either of us can say anything, there is a knock at the door. Mangali enters without waiting for an answer. When she sees me, her eyes widen. She was not expecting me. My presence comes as such a surprise to her that she is not really angry. She is extremely irritated.
I take in her carefully made-up appearance. Her long, dark mane falls like a waterfall made of flowing silk down to the middle of her back. She has accentuated her naturally big and dark eyes with a black eyeliner, and now they look much bigger. Her cheeks are a little red, without any help from cosmetics. She is excited, and maybe even a little nervous. She is counting on being allowed to take her rightful place at Zeyliv’s side and in his bed again.
I am breathing more quickly, too. I am afraid of the limitless fury that she will shower on me. At the same time, I feel pity for her, even after everything that she has done. I am sure that any pity coming from me, of all people, would be a worse insult than anything else, so I try hard to put on an aloof and haughty expression. Her eyes are following Zeyliv’s every move, and I am trying to stay at the edge of her awareness.
Zeyliv moves so quietly that I don’t notice him until he is standing right behind me. He lays his hands on my shoulder from behind, and turns me, so that we are both standing across from Mangali. She notices for the first time how made-up I am. The color in her cheeks deepens, and then she goes pale. Light pressure from Zeyliv fingers tells me that I should get to work.
I slip into her head. I have a hard time orienting myself, because there are fewer thoughts in Mangali’s head. Instead there is true chaos of emotions. They are so intense and uncompromising that the flood of her emotions almost brings me to my knees. Mangali knows only black and white, love or hate, and nothing in between. Zeyliv’s voice, which up until now had always proven to be more of a distraction, now turns into calming background noise. I manage to get my fear under control, because I know that I am worth something to him as a tool.
I bump into a wall in her head. Whatever she has hidden behind it is a well-kept secret, and I can’t get to it. She has hidden it so well from the world and herself that I can’t get through the wall between her secret and her awareness. Something catches my attention. Mangali is thinking about me. I cannot resist the temptation, and sneak closer, circling her thoughts, and let myself fall into them.
That was a mistake.
I am surrounded by darkness in which hate attacks light up like glaring lightning bolts. Zeyliv has told her that I, the young woman from Earth, am going to bear him a child. She isn’t just disappointed that things between them will not go back to the way they were earlier – I see her memories of a much younger Zeyliv, and they go straight to my heart – it is much more than that. She lives and breathes only for him, for this man. I see him through her eyes: he doesn’t just project immense power, but also kindness, like I, myself, have never experienced from him. For Mangali, and through her eyes also for me, Zeyliv is the most desirable man in the world, actually of the whole universe. In the rare moments the two of them have shared together over the last few years, he has been tender and loving. He is the man who freed her from the misery of her imprisonment. He is a god of love, an omnipotent and just ruler who loves his people and wants nothing but … I hold my breath. Zeyliv’s reasons for needing money so urgently lie before me. I understand everything now, why he needs me, why he is so merciless towards others, and why he shows no mercy to his subjects. I see Zeyliv on a throne-like chair, looking down at Mangali, whose face is streaked with tears. There is nothing but cruelty in his eyes when he banishes her. And yet she still loves him, even at that moment. Then Mangali thinks about me again, and I flinch under her merciless hate. I read in her head that it might take years to find a way to get rid of me, but she is patient and can wait. She sees herself as a spider who slowly and steadily weaves her net. I and all of the other women to whom Zeyliv gives his attention will get caught up in her net. And then she will be there, ready to pounce.
I can’t take any more. I capitulate under the darkness of her thoughts, and jump back out of her head. My pity for the woman goes up in smoke, and I can’t believe how well she can disguise herself. Because while Zeyliv is talking to her, and explaining to her how important an heir is for him, she smiles with her gaze lowered and humble. She appears to accept everything he is saying. Why isn’t she furious with him? The explanation is close at hand. Zeyliv rescued her from a testing lab, where she had been subjected to the cruelest experiments for years. Those experiments are also the reason for why she cannot have children. When Zeyliv made her his wife, he became her knight in shining armor, and still is to this day.
I hate myself for my own ruthlessness towards her, but I cannot forgive her for the role she played in Hathura’s death. When she withdraws with a mumbled “good night,” her humble façade crumbles for a second, and I see the real Mangali. She is a fighter, and she will defend her place at Zeyliv’s side to the end with tooth and nail.
I turn around. I can’t stand to look at her any longer and bury my head in Zeyliv’s chest. That is about the only place I can hide from her, even if it isn’t the best one. Or the smartest one, either. I can tell immediately that Zeyliv’s intention to take me to bed is not an empty threat. Under his soft pants, something hard is bulging out and pushing against my stomach.
My reaction is unmistakable. I disentangle myself from his arms and move back two, even better, three steps. He raises his eyebrows. In his eyes, I see a question that I would rather not answer. To my relief, he turns away and for now, tackles a different subject. “What did you see in my first wife’s head? I think she took it well. I doubt she hates you or has any anger towards you.”
Of course, I think sarcastically, mad at myself. And you’re the one who is humiliating her this way. I sigh dramatically and slowly go to the door that leads to the garden. I take in the fragrance of the night, full of blooms and humidity. “She loves you very much,” I begin carefully. How am I supposed to explain to him that her love for him has made Mangali sick, that her worship has no limit? “But she will not tolerate anyone else in her place. She wants your love for herself.”
“She has my love,” he responds, surprised. He furrows his brow. “But she has always understood that I need an heir.”
“You don’t understand,” I say softly. “You are the center of her life. No, even more. You are the reason why she lives and breathes. Her thoughts circle only around you and making you happy.”
Zeyliv opens his mouth. “That is what I am saying. My happiness and that of our people is just as important to her as it is to me.” I can barely stifle a smile. Did Zeyliv just admit that there is a very clear number one on his list of priorities, namely he himself? The “well-being of his people” may be right after it, but Zeyliv’s thoughts are mostly concerned with himself. Therefore, he takes it for granted that Mangali would also not do anything to make him unhappy. The poor fool – he is a good leader; I don’t doubt it. But he doesn’t have a clue about women.
“Mangali is going to try to get rid of me,” I clarify. “As you can tell from the death of your main wife, she isn’t picky in her choice of means. She not only accepted that Hathura had to die, she even longed for her death.” The color drains from his face. He has suffered a great loss, and now I am picking his worldview to pieces.
“I don’t believe that. Anyway, who says that you aren’t lying? You have shown me all too clearly that I cannot trust you.” He has moved in next to me and is staring out at the night. He arms are crossed in front of his broad chest. The heat that emanates from him makes my skin prickle pleasantly. To give him a little private space, I don’t look at him when I speak.
“I am not lying to you. I saw how the two of you met. She was one of many being held captive in a lab. They took out her reproductive organs in order to experiment with them. She was misused in every conceivable way, all in the name of science.” I gulp down the nausea gathering in my throat. “You and she, you were the only ones who never gave up. And one night, when you finally had the chance, you killed the scientists. She already loved you when she was living in a cage next to you. But when you saved her and the others, you became her entire life. Nobody is allowed to take you from her. No other woman will ever come between the two of you. She sees to it.” Should I tell him that a much worse secret is hiding in Mangali’s head? I look at him out of the corner of my eyes, decide that I have said enough for tonight.
The silence between us drags on.
When he finally looks at me, his voice sounds raw and foreign. “Go,” he says.
I turn around and start to flee. I get as far as the middle of the room when he stops me. “Don’t think that you are now freed from your punishment,” he says, and is back to being the old Zeyliv, haughty and proud, looking at me with his eyes. “But for today, I have had enough. I need to make a decision. I need to make it without distraction.” I want to say something, but shut my mouth. So, I have become a distraction. Idiot, I think, and take a deep breath. I don’t tell him that I could just have easily lied to him, and who knows, maybe he would have preferred that. But for today, I have gotten away once more.
I leave his chambers quietly and step out into the hallway. There Mangali awaits me. She looks me in the eye, and in hers, I can read her like an open book. Fear and limitless anger are there in equal measure. “He belongs to you,” I whisper, before she can say anything. The relief on her beautiful face, that has changed much over the last few hours, is more than I can take. She takes in my still flawless hairdo and the dress that isn’t wrinkled. A sight that makes her happy, since it means that Zeyliv and I didn’t share his bed, after all. She disappears into Zeyliv’s room, faster than I can blink, and without giving me another thought. I ceased to exist as soon as I wasn’t a threat anymore.
I am so exhausted that I just want to crawl to my room. At least I don’t get lost in the hallways, and I don’t run into anyone who wants to express contempt for me. I really and truly have become Zeyliv’s spy, a despicable creature who sniffs around in others’ heads. I keep telling myself over and over that I am not directly responsible for Hathura’s death and the fate of her child, but my feelings tell me otherwise. When I finally reach my room, I am ready to sink into a deep and hopefully dreamless sleep that will hopefully bring nothing other than forgetting. Without even thinking about how I am made up, I throw myself on my bed and close my eyes.
But something different happens again. My day isn’t over yet.
Someone is standing by my bed. Khazaar is looking at me, not as a body-less creature, but as my darling in flesh and blood. My heart stutters, but I fly out of my bed, at the same moment he decides to get into my bed. We crash into each other, and the bed creaks and groans under our weight. I cling to him, and save any questions about how and why for later. He buries his head in the nape of my neck and holds me tight like he will never let me go again. It feels so … right to be with him. In him, in this difficult and sometimes short-tempered man, I have found my other half. This has never been clearer than right now. The time we have spent apart doesn’t matter anymore. At some point, when his kisses are growing more urgent, I ask him how he managed to get out of the cellar. His answer is a cheeky smile with an air of vanity in it. I can’t help myself, and my lips answer his mouth with a grin that is probably idiotic, but definitely in love. “Nothing can stop a Qua’Hathri,” he mumbles. I jab him in the ribs to let him know that I expect a real answer. He sighs dramatically and stops the trail of kisses he is leaving on my body. “I bribed one of the guards,” he admits.
“With what?” You didn’t have anything valuable with you.”
He averts his gaze awkwardly and hesitates. “I promised to take him with us when we escape from here.”
I shake my head in disbelief. That is absurd, and I tell Khazaar as much. “Why would one of Zeyliv’s people want to leave Betania?” I tell him briefly about what I learned about their origin today, about the escape from the testing lab and about the new beginning under Zeyliv’s leadership here on this distant planet. It feels a little like I am betraying Mangali’s and Zeyliv’s confidence. I feel like a reporter who is taking advantage of the victims and their loved ones by displaying their misery in colorful headlines for everyone to see. Khazaar absorbs the information like a sponge. Apparently, I am not just Zeyliv’s spy anymore – I have become a double agent now. The next words confirm my suspicion.
“What else have you found out?” he wants to know, while he puts his hand on my head and takes out the annoying hair bands that are holding my hair up. He runs his fingers lovingly through my hair and tousles it, until the sight of it satisfies him. I lean back. The bed is so narrow that there is barely enough room for us, but Khazaar kneels deftly between my spread legs and uses the closeness to further the conquering expedition of my body.
“Not much, other than Zeyliv needs money to buy freedom for more of his people from the laboratory – or to buy a spaceship, so he can shoot the research ship into pieces.” Khazaar nods as if this were not news to him.
“That makes sense,” he says and stops his efforts for a moment, which makes me sigh longingly. I rub up against him like a lustful cat. Our whispered conversation, the narrowness of the bed, and the fact that he actually shouldn’t be here, arouse me. I pull his head to me and kiss him like I am dying of thirst. Who knows when we will be able to be so close to each other again? His kisses taste like he smells: sweet and forbiddingly delicious. His tongue tastes my mouth, and then, with slow and tantalizing circles, it traces my lips. The tip of his tongue almost makes me lose all sense, but I pull myself together. By that I mean that I try to resume our conversation from the point where he stopped it with his erotic attack.
“Can’t you offer Zeyliv a deal?” I ask. My brain is working at top speed, and my body is trembling with longing.
“What kind of deal?” Khazaar asks. He stops for a second, and I use the kiss-free moment to expand my idea.
“Well, you were able to make a trade with our president,” I remind him. “The destruction of the Sethari, in exchange for the women from Earth. Maybe Zeyliv needs more than just money. Maybe he needs fighting power, as well, or whatever you want to call it.”
Khazaar looks at me, surprised, but I can tell that he is thinking. “But he has nothing to offer me in exchange for my men’s help,” he observes. I moan, this time not out of lust, but out of frustration. My darling is overlooking the most important point.
“Khazaar,” I say softly, “you are not in an especially good position to negotiate. You crashed in a space ship, we want to escape from here, and we are in danger of having to work in the mines or be sold at the slave market. And I, for one, am allowed to share Zeyliv’s bed to bear him a child. I wouldn’t call those especially good prospects.” As soon as I have said the words, I realize that this was a mistake. Khazaar pushes me down on the mattress with his considerable weight. His scales rustle, but it isn’t the seductive crackling of arousal that I know. It sounds furious, and I can feel a thousand tiny needles against my skin.
When he speaks, his voice is icy. “I am Khazaar Drasurq. You are overlooking the fact that I have made it from my cell all the way to your room without a single one of Zeyliv’s warriors stopping me. Do you really think that I will allow him to impregnate my wife?”
“I think you shouldn’t trust the guard who helped you,” I phrase as reserved as possible. His confidence is pretty sexy, even if I think that it isn’t up to him to allow something or not. I have a little say so, too. “I think that man is just trying to find out if you are planning an attempt to escape.”
“I already thought of that,” he responds. He smiles, tight-lipped. Then he uses my mental absence for a surprise attack. He pushes my dress up with one hand, pulls my panties to the side and enters me with one surge. The sensation of finally feeling his hard cock inside me is enough to silence me for the time being. I want him, and I want to feel his strength, his ruthlessness, his hardness. Once again this proves that he can sense my wishes, because he doesn’t hold back. We don’t have time for delicate love games today. I bite into his shoulder as he brings me to orgasm with one last move, and he does nothing to suppress his confident and lustful moan as he empties himself into me. That sound is almost enough to make me come again. A small part of my brain wonders where this lust and the power that he has over me come from. The other part of my brain, what’s left of it, anyway, after that orgasm, is enjoying the moment and is silent. His breath brushes my body, and his is lying heavily on top of me. His member is still inside me – I can still feel it despite all of the moisture. It is as if he can’t tear himself away from me any more than I can from him. Our joint scent of sex and love reaches my nose, and I breathe it in lovingly. Gently, I run my fingernails down his back. Under my touch, his scales rustle and rise longingly. My tongue runs down his neck and explores the fine tips of his scales there, too. “Do you know what you are doing to me?” he whispers in my ear and nibbles on my earlobe. He is getting hard again inside me and is moving in and out slowly. This time, however, I have other plans. “I want to taste you,” I say, and wriggle out from underneath him. I push against his chest until he is lying flat on his back. Then it’s my turn to kneel between his legs and take his cock in my mouth.
I take all the time in the world, and enjoy looking at him now and then. His chest, decorated with scars, rises and falls faster and faster, the more I increase my rhythm. I play with him, suck hard once, then let my tongue glide all around him. He comes in my mouth and I swallow the warm, prickling fluid. Then I sit on him and kiss him.
“And now,” I start, but I get no further. Somebody is behind me and rips me forcefully from Khazaar. The room is suddenly much too small for all of the men who come pouring in.
Zeyliv’s claws dig into my shoulders. He sets me on my feet and puts a hand on my throat. “I knew I couldn’t trust you,” he whispers and runs a claw playfully down my neck. I feel the wetness before the pain sets in. Khazaar roars, jumps from the bed and is greeted by Zeyliv’s men, swords drawn. Zeyliv’s Machairos are in the middle of it all, too, and the fight is over soon. Even though Khazaar has mowed down three, four men with his bare hands, in the end, he is lying in chains at my feet.
Zeyliv has moved me back against the wall and hasn’t said a word. When Khazaar looks at me, his body covered in bloody scratches, Zeyliv speaks. The heat of his body is burning me, and I try to move away from him a little. Mercilessly, he holds me in place.
“Take him back. Double the guards. By tomorrow morning, I want to know who helped him get out.” They drag my beloved back. The last thing I see from him is the confident grin he gives me. I am confused. If it was, as his grin is telling me, part of his plan to be caught, why didn’t he tell me? I shake my head involuntarily, which earns me another cut from one of Zeyliv’s claws.
Finally, it is quiet. He pushes me away and turns me around. “You almost had me,” he says flatly. “I didn’t take you to bed tonight, because all of your talk, and all of your patient listening, made me think that you might be able to understand us. I will never make the mistake of being lenient with you again.”
I lower my gaze. Even though my thoughts are racing, I can’t think of anything to say. My mouth has gone dry, and my throat is scratchy. The worst part, however, is that his words are hitting home, and that I feel guilty. Why do Khazaar and Zeyliv always manage to manipulate my feelings so easily? I swallow dryly. Why don’t those two join forces, I wonder. They wouldn’t have to live with each other, but they could each benefit from what the other has to offer. It is probably useless to suggest a deal to Zeyliv, not now when he is so furious with me and my supposed betrayal. “I am sorry,” I say and raise both hands, to show that I am giving up. “But what exactly did you expect from me? I love that man. Did you really think I would abandon him, just because you have it in your head that I need to pay for Hathura’s death?” I look him in his amber-colored eyes for the first time since he stormed into my room. I harden myself against the sadness and disappointment I see in them. “You snap your finger, I fall in your bed, and we have a child. You sell every creature that falls into your hands, in order to finance your campaign against the scientists who abused you. When will you be satisfied? When is it enough?” In response, he gives me a push with the palm of his hand, and I land on the floor. I have no strength left fight back against him. Let him do with me what he wants. I am prepared for him to hit me. Inside, all I feel is enormous indifference.
He lets me finish talking, but I have a bad feeling about this. His next words confirm my hunch. “Fine,” he says deliberately. “You want your freedom and freedom for your Qua’Hathri. You will get what you want. Tomorrow, the two of us will play for your happiness. And this game,” he emphasizes the word with pleasure, while an insane glimmer comes into his eyes, “will be my special personal punishment just for you.”
With that, and all of the uncertainty it means for me, he leaves me alone.