Текст книги "Scars of his warth"

Автор книги: Zoey Ellis

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Naya stayed curled in her cart for the next few days. She didn't go for walks around the fleet with the healer, she didn't eat, she didn't even want to watch the marvel of the nnirae speeding across the sand.

Shame coursed through every part of her. The most infuriating and tragic thing was that when Akoro had walked away he’d been right, she was sopping wet and completely prepared for him to do the same to her pussy. She’d enjoyed having him in her mouth, she loved hearing him groan and roar in pleasure, and she loved his seed on her face. But all he’d done was use her, and based on what he’d said, who knew how many females or Omegas he’d used in the same way? She had made it so easy for him– because she couldn’t resist him. After everything she stood for, the truth was now apparent; she wasn’t fit to represent or defend Omegas.

The initial grief she’d had about him being her mate reappeared, deepening to sorrow so strong it hurt her stomach. When she’d read the accounts of the Omegas who’d been alive during the mistreatment of Omegas over a hundred years ago, they’d said no one could understand the pain of an Omega’s attraction to an Alpha who used her.

And it was true, because even as bad as the history books had sounded, Naya never would have imagined feeling so demeaned and ashamed and devastated.

She lost count of the days as they passed; she tried to take quick naps to ward off the extreme exhaustion from forcing herself to stay awake at night, even knowing she didn’t have to worry about Akoro appearing anymore. And he stayed true to his word. He didn’t visit, didn’t even look her way each morning as he mounted the nnirae.

But that didn’t matter. She had to remind herself what was at stake. Ultimately, if she had to experience that or worse again, to find out more about the beast and his people, she would. Even though it was a hit to her pride and devastating to know she would never be with her true mate, she now knew more about the Alpha she was dealing with. She would stop him or die trying.

On the ninth or tenth morning of travel, she woke to a dusky blue sky stretched overhead with golden light bleeding in from the horizon’s east. Relieved she hadn’t dreamed, she sat up and stretched. Low murmurs drifted through the air as the camp packed away blankets and cooking equipment.

The beast was nowhere to be seen, but when her cart was being attached to his nnirae, the animal behaved differently. He shook his head and stomped his hooves, then his ears flickered, his tail swished, and a growly bellowing sound rose in the air.

The people attaching her cart paused and shared a look, but they continued to fix the cart to him with great difficulty. Naya couldn’t see why he had such a problem this morning.

When they were ready to leave, it was as if the entire caravan of animals and carts suddenly stalled. The riders were on their nnirae, the carts were packed and ready, and yet nothing moved.

After a short while, the beast came striding toward her cart surrounded by the same group he always walked with—three women and three men, including the stout healer. They stopped next to his nnirae and continued their conversation, their body language tense and their words hard and clipped.

Naya watched them. Something was happening.

They turned to look out at the landscape, but four of them glanced at her. The beast turned back and said something to the group, and they all moved in different directions at once.

The beast transferred items from a nearby cart into sacks on his nnirae. The healer and one of the other men unattached her cart from the animal and disabled the magical dome. Three others walked through the carts, calling across the fleet. The riders slid down from their nnirae and made their way over to them. As the trio spoke to them, the riders’ body language turned tense and fidgety.

The beast appeared at her cart when the dome came down. Without a word, he leaned over and he picked her up, one arm under her knees, the other supporting her back.

Naya stiffened. “What are you doing?” She’d asked a question, but he seemed too preoccupied to realize it.

He carried her to his nnirae, and placed her on the huge saddle. Naya clung to the creature’s silky neck, suddenly alarmed. Whatever was happening had to be serious. The beast climbed up behind her, his thick arm caging her as he grabbed the reins.

Naya tried not to breathe him in while he spoke with someone on the ground, but it was almost impossible not to. His scent pressed in all around her. Thick, heady, and beautiful. She leaned forward and lifted her head, trying to find fresh air, but it wasn’t enough.

Suddenly they began moving.

Naya turned to look at what the rest of the fleet was doing, but the beast growled and forced her body to face the front. Annoyed, she twisted the other way and saw the fleet breaking off in different directions. Four others, who looked like guards, rode next to them on their own nnirae and with no carts attached.

She watched them ride alongside, questions cramming into her mind. Where did the fleet go? Why did they split up? Were they being chased? She tried to think back to when everyone started acting strangely.

In the distance, dark clouds caught her eye. Underneath them, the sand churned, swirling wild and high. Naya leaned forward, trying to see what was causing the sand to kick up like that, but the beast slipped his arm around her and pulled her back against his chest, punctuating the action with a low warning growl.

Naya breathed shallowly, her mind racing. Either there was a violent sandstorm or a large group of people were heading straight for them. She wasn’t sure how she felt about either. Other people could be useful, but without her magic, she didn’t have a way to protect herself against a large group of them, and she was still physically weak. A bad storm might kill her—but it could also mask an escape for when she had a plan. Then again, if the beast had enemies, that could provide an excellent opportunity to disrupt his plans or destroy him.

She filed away that information for another time, unable to think of anything else but the hard ride and the Alpha, whose scent she was trying not to breathe. The beast leaned forward, and the nnirae galloped even faster than when he was attached to her cart. The wind and sand hit her face so strongly she could barely breathe, but the beast wrapped a cloth around her lower face, like she’d seen the riders wearing.

They rode for hours, only stopping for short times to give water to the nnirae. Finally, as the sun began to inch toward the horizon, tall buildings of a city rose in the distance.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The city was, in fact, just a collection of decayed structures—slabs of rock, shapeless and worn. They were built on strange angles, as though following a design that was no longer visible.

The beast and his companions slowed down and weaved through them. But as they progressed, making their way through intricate dusty paths, the chunks of rock took on form and shape until they became intact ruins.

The placement of the buildings and the way the roads interlocked had been designed with intention and expertise. Although crumbling and in disrepair, they’d been designed to be aesthetically pleasing, with shapely roofs, carvings, and decoration. This had once been a beautiful city.

They continued through the roads and the ruins gradually improved, until they came upon several of them that weren’t ruins at all but a series of buildings, untouched by decay.

They formed a circular labyrinth of homes, their surfaces painted in shades of orange, brown, and yellow, which the late afternoon sun transformed into a breathtaking display of amber, russet, and gold. It was a gorgeous sight. The homes were small and homely, framed with pots of plants and decoration, and children ran between them.

People came out into the road and called out to the beast, waving and bowing as he passed, but they also stared at Naya. The faces here were a stark contrast to those at the camp. This time, tense expressions of bewilderment, fear, and anger suggested a collective concern. Had they been told she would be kidnapped?

Naya watched them back, meeting their eyes with her own determination. If they knew she was taken, then escaping would mean working against the entire city, not just the beast, who definitely appeared to be an important figure to them.

She kept her chin up, and her expression blank, but her mind raced.

The beast and his companions rode on, and the buildings of the city transformed again to bigger and more impressive designs following the labyrinth design that began from the very outskirts. They passed markets and communal areas, and the population became denser and louder. The air became a catastrophe of noise and odor—metal clanging, smoky bitterness, and raucous voices all competing with each other.

Citizens lined the streets to call out and bow to the beast, rows of them in colorful clothing and glittering jewelry.

Finally, by the time dusk had taken hold of the skies, they turned into quieter roads and arrived at an enormous palace. With its walls a shade of rich golden brown, it seemed to have been created directly from the desert itself. From what she could see, it was beautiful, punctuated by an array of windows and panels and stately pillars, and encircled by a wall that was similarly designed—with intricate lattice decoration carved in the top half and rimmed with spires. There was a timeless magnificence about it, like it had been standing for a long time, yet remarkably well-kept—a far cry from the ruins on the outskirts of the city.

The traveling party trotted straight through the gates and finally stopped in the forecourt, where guards had gathered. Naya took in her surroundings as the beast spoke to his companions.

It had similar structures to Lox Palace—guarded forecourts, stables, towers—and guards in every direction. She stared up at the huge steps that led to the entrance. Her body ached from traveling on the nnirae for the whole day, and it wasn’t like she’d been in perfect condition before that. She needed sleep and recovery so she could think.

The beast finally stopped speaking and remained motionless for a moment, his arm still around her, pressing her to his chest. Something brushed the side of her head, and she tensed, waiting for a threat or demand. He inhaled, long and deep, then dismounted and strode away, up the huge steps and into the building.

Naya watched him go, exhaling in relief, but the feeling quickly dulled when his guards surrounded her.

Inside the building was just as pretty on the outside with decorated pillars, vibrant artwork, and wall art; woven rugs complemented the earthy colors of the building, but Naya was just glad it was cool.

The guards took her up numerous stairways and along multiple corridors, and forced her to walk quicker than her aching joints could manage. She hadn’t realized how much effort it took to stand now, let alone walk swiftly, but finally they stopped at a door in a quiet corridor and ushered her inside.

It was dark and mellow inside, illuminated by only a few small lamps, but it was certainly not a room for prisoners. The bedroom was as beautifully designed as the rest of the palace, with rich burnished tones and intricate carvings throughout. Tall and short pillars framed the room, giving it a grand, formal feel. Huge artwork adorned the walls, and an area had been carved into the right wall, providing a small, comfortable nook where a large lattice window was framed with pot plants, cushions and blankets.

A woman with round cheeks and small, mischievous eyes stood in the middle and beckoned her over. She helped her undress and then examined Naya’s body, brushing her fingers over the peeling areas of her skin, the burns, and the faint bruises that remained. She did strange things like looking at her ears, parting her hair to examine her scalp, squeezing her fingertips, and repeatedly poked Naya’s lower stomach, breasts, the cheeks of her ass and her thighs.

“Stop that,” Naya snapped, batting her fingers away when it became annoying and a little painful, but the woman ignored her. She rummaged in her bag and took out a large piece of thin tubular metal shaped like half of a circle.

She knelt on the ground and pulled on Naya’s arm until she sat next to her, then placed the half circle on the ground. She inched her fingers around it carefully, as though she was looking for a particular spot, and then tapped a pattern on it. A beam of magic shot out of both sides and connected, forming an enormous circle, and the ground in the middle of the ring dropped away.

Naya gasped, leaning over to look inside the center of the metal ring; it was filled with water. The woman grabbed her legs and twisted her so her feet slipped in. Warm water enveloped them and sloshed against her calves, and Naya stared at the ring in disbelief. They’d created a magic circle of water out of thin air? How was that possible? Even with the most sophisticated magic at home, it wouldn’t be possible to do that so quickly or reliably.

She turned to the woman, who was behind her. "How did you⁠—"

The woman pushed her hard, and she slipped straight down into the circle.

Naya flailed, panic bounding in her chest, only to find that she was inside a large tube. And it wasn't deep. When her head sunk below the water, her feet touched the bottom and she could push her head above the water and remain on tiptoe.

Before Naya could yell at her, the water churned. Powerful waves hit her body as she tried to keep her face above water.

The woman pulled various bottles out of her bag and peered at them, before lining them up on the ground. Selecting one, she pulled off the cork and sniffed the contents. Satisfied, she tipped two drops into Naya's tube and the water bubbled.

She handed Naya soap and a small cloth, raising her brows with expectation, and Naya suddenly realized, this was a bath. Or at least their version of it. The bigger one she thought she imagined in the tent had been the same thing.

As she washed her face, the woman, who had to be an aide or personal maid, picked up another bottle and poured it in, a fizz encasing her whole body. Within a few moments, the lingering pain in her joints from the ride vanished. Naya wriggled her fingers and toes, twisted her torso and thrashed her limbs. Some pain remained in her ribs, but it was faint. She felt almost back to normal.

The aide washed her hair and helped her out. After drying her, the aide dressed her in a simple tunic and knelt back down to the bath. Her fingers flew over the device and the magic retracted, returning the ring back to a small half circle, and the floor reappeared.

Naya watched with interest. Although she’d had baths in the tents, they’d been raised and shallow. She hadn’t realized they’d been created using a magical device. Was this how they bathed here? It couldn’t be. It had to be only for traveling and convenience.

Taking Naya’s arm, she led her over to the other side of the room and helped her into an enormous bed that sat against the far wall—a thick wooden platform was its frame, covered with a mattress and blankets.

Naya wanted a chance to look around. Now that she was in the beast’s palace, he would expect her to help him with his invasion plans. She needed to decide how to approach it, but her exhaustion was overwhelming.

She was already drifting to sleep by the time the aide stopped fussing with her blankets, but still felt the light pat on her arm as if to reassure her that whatever was coming might not be as dark as the dread growing in her chest.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The next morning a meal had been laid out on the platform at the end of the bed.

Naya climbed out of the bed and tried the door, but it was locked. Not a surprise. She explored every inch of the room, trying to see if there was a way out or anything she could use as a weapon.

With the sunlight streaming in, it was an earthy, beautiful room with artwork and detail on the walls. It was much bigger than she realized, but there were no adjoining rooms and no washroom, yet it was designed and decorated elaborately. Single rooms like this were typically what most of the Lox population had in their homes, but the way the room was designed and decorated didn’t seem typical. It was strange that he placed her in such luxury.

After she examined everything she could, she sat on the cushions by the lattice window. The view overlooked the enormous city, a canvas of honey browns, creams, and sun-faded yellows. From this view, it was almost impossible to believe that the outer areas had been so damaged and abandoned. War and time could do a lot of damage to a city, and she did not know the history of this place, but it was odd they had left the outskirts in ruins.

She padded back to bed and looked at the meal on the tray—cubed fried potatoes, saucy beans, and a crinkly blue pepper, all accompanied by a strong, heady liquid in a tiny cup. Next to the bed platform was a thin stand with a wide base and a ring at the top holding a long, knobby tmae with its top cut open.

Naya lifted the tmae and sat on the platform to sip it and formulate a plan.

Papa always said that trying to get out of a complex situation without a strategy was like entering a lion’s den with nothing but hope—brave but foolish. For him every battle was an opportunity to demonstrate his superiority, every enemy a puzzle to be solved and eventually break.

He’d been in one of his big-headed moods at the time—Mama always rolling her eyes behind him—and Naya laughed at them. But she never forgot the teaching. And now she could see why some enemies required those extreme measures.

She sipped the tmae, thinking everything through until she’d decided on four clear goals.

One; escape and warn her father. Papa needed to be armed with as much information as possible about the threat he faced. No one knew the beast existed, and even though her disappearance might raise suspicions, her parents didn’t know how powerful and cruel their opponent was.

To achieve that goal, running again without a real chance to escape wasn’t an option. She had to be calm, considered, and careful. It was over ten days of travel across the desert to get back to where she’d first arrived in this Land, assuming that was the way home.

Two; be selective. She'd promised the beast information, but that had to be carefully selected and presented. He’d clearly been to her Lands, but for how long? And how much did he know? He planned to hold her to her word and would punish her severely if she lied. Nothing should jeopardize goal number one, so telling him the truth was best, but navigating this would be crucial. Giving information to him didn’t mean telling him everything or offering knowledge he didn’t ask for.

Three; learn. If she was going to find a way home, she had to learn more about the culture, land, and its people. The turbulent sand under the dark clouds in the desert seemed to have caused the earlier urgency. But that didn’t exclude the possibility that the beast had enemies, especially if the ruins were any indication. And that could be exploited.

If all else failed—if she couldn't return home or warn Papa—her only recourse was to do everything she could to fuck up the beast’s plans. That meant learning everything about him.

Four; accept she had no true mate.

Naya set the tmae back in its stand. That last goal had no specific strategy other than resisting her reactions to him and staying as far away as possible. That shouldn’t be a problem. She’d thought her magical blocks had been removed, but they must have left some lingering effects, otherwise their attraction would have been far more intense. Having studied war crimes and strategies, she knew that since she was a new prisoner, he’d want to make her suffer again—because he was fucking crazy—and it was clear that he wasn’t compelled by her scent the way she was by his. Once he got bored with making her suffer, he’d focus on his invasion.

The real issue for her was grieving the idea of him. Without a mate, she couldn’t lead effectively or be the Omega her people deserved. That had been crushed out of existence the moment she realized who her mate was.

All she could do was protect them from this invasion, and after the Lox Empire crushed the beast, she’d talk to Drocan and see what he thought about ruling—or any of her siblings. She’d also see if Lonn still wanted to marry her without the title, and then start her life from there.

The notion cast a shadow within her, extinguishing a long-burning flame that Gramma, and even her parents had kindled. Maybe an Omega’s mate was supposed to be all the amazing things everyone said, but Naya’s wasn’t. She’d never have that kind of love—the kind her parents had. Tears blurred her vision, but she quickly got up. She couldn’t sink into the reality of that loss right now.

Stretching her body slow and intentional, she worked through a warming sequence like she used to at the start of her training sessions, then practiced her basic combat positions. Since she had time and space, she might as well practice something that could help her at some point. She hadn't trained properly in six years, and even though she was certain that wasn't the reason for her defeat in the forest, it still stung that she hadn’t even heard the beast’s ambush. She was out of practice.

She worked through her training sequences for her combat specialisms, progressing from basic to mastery as she sought to reawaken what her body once knew instinctively. Gradually she slipped into a rhythm, each move becoming more assured and powerful, increasing in speed. And then she fell out of rhythm.

Annoyed, she began again. Slow and practiced, increasing gradually.

As she fell out repeatedly, her irritation escalated with each attempt until she finally yelled at the wall. Her training was coming back to her, but it didn’t feel the same. She didn’t have the same power she used to, and she was damn slow.

Refocusing her energies, she started again, and persisted until her body ached like she’d fought fifty Lox warriors at once, but she’d lost her edge.

Papa had trained her for what was happening right now, yet for the past six years she’d been selfishly looking for her mate instead of keeping up with her training. And it’d been a gross waste of time. She’d literally seen the enemy in her forest and ignored the little instinct she had left, too preoccupied about her next pairing meeting to take it seriously. She was a fucking disappointment to her people, to the empire her father had built, and most of all, to Papa.

She channeled her seething rage into her training, and by the time the feeling eased, her body ached, her throat had flared up again, and her rage had smoothed into steely determination. She was her papa’s daughter—his firstborn, and she wouldn’t continue to let him down.

The day crept by, rays of sun inching through the room. Naya continued increasing the intensity of her sequences until she was close to the pace she was used to.

Drenched in sweat and moving at an incredible speed, she caught the faint whisper of the door opening. She forced herself to arrive at a neat stop, the air sharp in her heaving lungs.

The round-cheeked aide who had helped her bathe yesterday came in with clothing neatly folded over her arm. She smiled at Naya, but it faded when she saw Naya panting and sweaty, and disappeared at the sight of the tray.

"Hhe llu kkunnenmir hhe kaeplǔ?" she said, confusion in her eyes.

Naya stared back at her. Was she forgetting Naya didn't speak the language? She grabbed the tmae, sipping it while the aide placed the clothes on the bed.

She faced Naya, smiling again. “Nuk ttae tikshon nlik hhe nnu ppo tshike shi llepae." Then she added, in a thick accent, "Good morning."

Naya pursed her lips, somewhat surprised at her brisk brightness. It didn’t seem to fit the situation, but that was probably better than her being rude or cold. The way she had bathed Naya yesterday had the practiced efficiency of an experienced aide, and serving as an aide for a prisoner was likely not a role anyone would want. “Err… good morning," Naya said. “Well, it’s afternoon. Good afternoon.”

The aide beamed and beckoned Naya over to the same spot for another bath. Afterward, she dressed her in attire typical of the style Naya had seen in this culture: garments that combined the looseness of cloaks and tunics with fitted sections, creating an elegant and unusual style of clothing.

When she finished, the aide stepped back, her eyes roaming, searching for imperfections. She couldn’t have found any because she clasped her hands together and smiled. Then she picked up the tiny cup of foul-smelling liquid and pressed it into Naya’s hands. "Hhe kkuke tshu tae kkermo pre tul kkishnu."

"No, thank you." Naya shook her head, holding it out to her. "I don't want it."

The aide tapped her finger on the cup and then tapped her mouth. "i ttǒm."

Naya shook her head again. "No, thank you."

The woman cupped Naya’s hands and lifted the cup to her lips. Naya fought to push her hands back down without spilling the cup. She was surprisingly strong.

"i ttǒm," the woman insisted. “i ttǒm.”

"No!"

"She is saying you should try it."

They both tensed, startled by the voice at the door.

A woman with large, expressive eyes and radiant dark brown skin stood just inside the doorway. She wore a fitted tunic-like outfit with layers of leather. Two daggers’ handles stuck out of the band around her waist, but Naya guessed she probably had at least three more on her person somewhere. She was the first person Naya had seen who looked like an actual warrior and not just a guard.

She glanced between them. "She is saying to try it.”

"I don't want to try it,” Naya said. "Why won’t she let me refuse?”

“Because you might find it helpful.”

That was a ridiculous response. Naya eyed her blades. "Are you both planning to cut me to shreds if I insist I don’t want it?"

The woman blinked, slow and considered, then gestured to the aide. “This is Meiro. She is to attend to your personal needs while you’re here but cannot speak the Common Tongue and has been instructed not to converse with you at length or assist you with anything that is not to do with your personal needs.” She gestured to the cup. “This will help you personally.”

Naya tried not to show her surprise. This woman’s Common Tongue was good.

"You told the zmola that you would be amenable," the woman added. "It does not hurt you to try."

“I agreed to give information,” Naya said. “I cannot see how drinking something that smells this… foul will help me help you.”

“It is our most coveted drink. It aids in concentration and gives strength. It can only be made using nnin, so its preparation is taken seriously. The amount you hold in that cup is very expensive and will be wasted if you don’t drink it.”

“Nnin?” Naya repeated.

The woman pursed her lips. “In your tongue, it translates to magic.”

A drink made using magic? Naya peered into the cup, drawing it closer to her face. The hot liquid was golden, and the pungent scent smelled much more complex up close.

Meiro’s voice was quiet when she spoke again. “Shnim prat ǐ pre tae llanin nnǔ hhe shla prǔtskǒt hhe.”

Naya glanced up at her. Her eyes were wide, filled with hope and anticipation. Something about them reminded her of Lili.

The woman at the door translated. “She said it will help for the long day you have before you.”

Naya lifted the cup to her lips and took a tiny sip. The flavor of rich, burned earth with a hint of bitter smoke bloomed in her mouth and faded to a soft, mellow sweetness. When she swallowed, a warm glow spread through her. She took another sip and offered Meiro a small smile. It wasn’t as bad as it initially smelled.

Meiro let out a heavy breath. Dipping her head, she picked up the tray and headed out of the door, dipping her head again to the other woman as she passed.

Naya stared after her. Was that strange? Why would she care so much?

“Meiro is good at her job,” said the woman, answering her thoughts as she stepped farther into the room. “She was selected because she will make your interests her interests.”

Naya schooled her expression. “My greatest interest is to return to my Land. I’m sure she won’t do that for me.”

She clasped her hands behind her. “You made an agreement with the zmola. He will hold himself to his word and hold you to yours.”

“I didn’t make that agreement willingly.”

“It was still an agreement, willing or not.” The woman pulled out strips of the dark red material. “You are expected to wear these when you are not in this room. Come here.”

Naya stared at it, almost recoiling when she recognized the color. Every inch of her wanted to scream, to fight this woman and run as far as possible at the idea of having those bands on her again.

“Without these, you will be chained,” the woman added.

Naya nodded, masking her expression. Wiping her palms on her outfit, she walked to her. The woman carefully wrapped her forearms from her wrist to her elbow and then wrapped her neck.

Naya clenched her teeth, the horrible feel of the textured material making her want to retch. Suddenly, she was trapped again in the tent, unable to move and in so much pain. She pulled in a slow, deep breath. No, she wasn’t in the tent, and she wasn’t trapped against the wall. She could move freely, at least she could right now, and that was better than wearing chains.

Finally the woman finished and stepped back. “Follow me,” she said.

Outside the room four guards were stationed in the quiet corridor. Two of them held long spears, while the others had daggers. Naya followed her guide, navigated through several corridors, each one busier than the last, until the palace felt busy and alive.

Less moody and sultry than the night before, daylight brightened every corridor. Wall panels showcased stunning art, and the warm colors complemented the beautiful woven rugs and the earthy colors of the building.