Page 7 of Taken to Voraxia
Of all the wounds I have sustained in battle, all of the scars, the tortures I’ve endured at the hands of enemies…they were not enough to have prepared me for this.
I am reminded of the time my training sire broke my leg when I held it in the incorrect attack position. He gave me no grace and I was forced to fight through the hours it took for my leg to heal itself with no relief or reprieve.
This is as if, not my leg, but every bone in my body is snapped by hands more powerful than mine in unison and I will have to fight through the agony for one. complete. rotation.
The growl in my throat turns to a full bellied roar. Grief washes through me as I turn to the interpreter cowering in the shadow of my Xiveri mate.
“If she has no line, then what is her title?”
“Her title?”
“What does she do? What is her role here?”
“Her…” The interpreter shakes her head, confused. “She is an inventor. A mechanic.”
“These describe her role, but they are nother. I want to know what this one is called.”
“Her name? Her name is Miari.”
I recoil. Miari. This is not a title. This is a moniker. On Voraxia the only ones who bear monikers are younglingsor slaves. Slavery is outlawed…Bo’Raku…
I clear my throat and speak now to Miari directly. “Rakukanna,” I address her, for even if she was once a slave, she is a slave no longer. “I will return for you in one rotation.”
The invisible thread binding me to her tears a new wound when I take a step away. My body rips itself apart from the inside. The heat of the suns feels like fire. The sand that nips at my skin like blades.I cannot dothis. For a moment, I contemplate disregarding the honors of these aliens and taking her anyways, or taking her and for the next rotation locking her away…and I am ashamed.
I take another step, but before I can remove myself from her presence, my Xanaxana pulls me back into the intoxicating cloud she creates.
My xora bucks. I inhale a charged breath. Jujji, ranxcera, sugar, grain, sand, salt, sweat, tevra tree roots, rain.
She jumps, but I take her shoulders between my hands anyways and I bend low enough I can speak directly into her ear, my mouth brushing her skin. “I will not abandon you to this.”
I taste the edge of her earlobe and then I rip back, charging across the sands without looking again at the female my body aches for, until I reach the leader of these beings.
I grab the female’s arm too hard not to cause her pain, but I am shaking and there is no other way. I am at the complete and utter mercy of the Xanaxana and the little female with a slave name and no heritage.
I know what many of my xub’Raku advisors would say —she is not worthy —and perhaps I would even agree with them. But we would all be wrong because the Xanaxana is always right.
“I will return to collect her in one rotation. No more. No less.” I move to leave, but my jaw ticks. One. Rotation. The turn of my home planet is slow. Too slow. And one rotation is a long time. So much can change. So much can happen. Panic brittles my bones.
I heave out my next breath, wrangling my ridges into control before they betray a deep pink. “The female known asMiariwill not be touched by another male or female in my absence.” The thought that she would be dishonored — or worse — that she would bed anotherwillinglymakes my stones ache and my ridges flame with copper jealousy.
“Of…of course…” The female bows her head.
I continue, voice pitchy in a way I have never heard. I am not myself. Perhaps the separation is best.Perhaps it will kill me.“She will be fed regularly. Clothed adequately. Housed more than adequately.
“I want her protected and safe and healthy when I return. She will be Rakukanna to your people — to us all — ruler of Voraxia beside me, mother to my child, Xana to my Xaneru and when I arrive at sun’s first light one rotation from today, she will be awaiting me, prepared andwillingto return with me to Voraxia where she will remain for the rest of her life. If for whatever reason, these conditions are not met, it will be your life.”
The female swallows audibly. Gloss glazes her eyes. Her arm remains suspended before her face, a shield I could tear through with words alone.
“She is to remain protected at any cost. All other lives here are worth less. Am I understood?”
The shimmery, transparent surface of the Dome tickles the edges of my vision. The Dome is a defense, but it can be breached. The thought of her here, protected by only this and these weak beings for a full rotation is a living nightmare.
“Am I understood, female?” I bark when she does nothing but nod.
“Yes. Yes. Hexa,” she says in my language. She bows.
“Xhivey. In return, I will provide you with all that you need to improve the living conditions here on your planet for the coming rotation. I will send shipments of goods, food, supplies, and any other equipment you may require.
