Page 14 of Radakk's Mate
My beautiful female. My mate. Mine.
Chapter7
THALIA
Reelingfrom yet another dream about the emperor, I pace my lavish prison and continually run a hand through my hair. I wish I could stop thinking about Emperor Radakk, but when I dream about him every freaking night—highly erotic dreams that leave me achy and drenched between my thighs—it’s difficult to put him out of mind. I sigh and pause before the viewscreen, my gaze landing on theHaxxal.
During the three weeks I’ve spent in these quarters, I’ve mercifully been left alone. No one has come to ask me the smallest of questions. I should be grateful for the solitude, but I’m starting to get restless. I’m used to keeping busy. Used to working an early shift cleaning the mess hall on deck eight—the job some bogus aptitude test declared me best qualified for—followed by hours of spying for my father.
There’s no escaping these quarters. All my attempts to open the door have failed. Once a day, two guards arrive with fresh food that they place in the kitchen, snacks as well as prepared meals I can store in the refrigerator until needed. But whenever they come, they make sure I don’t venture near the door, and upon their departure, I always find it locked again.
I resume pacing the living space and wonder what happened to the previous occupants. Or maybe just one Founder used to live here, someone who didn’t have a family, and they died recently without any descendants to take over their quarters. It’s possible. There are still a few Founders alive on theJansonna, but they’re all well over one hundred, the oldest being one hundred and thirty-nine.
I suppose if it weren’t for the Founders bankrolling the construction of the worldship, humankind would’ve already perished. Long ago, a race of aliens known as the Frexorlians contacted Earth, claiming they wanted the planet for themselves. The aliens gave humans five years to evacuate, promising to kill anyone who remained. And so, theJansonnawas built, and over one hundred thousand souls boarded the ship that would take them to safety.
One hundred thousand. It’s a huge number, and I’m not certain how so many people fit on theJansonnaback then. But not long after departing Earth, the population plummeted when thousands upon thousands died as a plague swept through the ship. A shiver rushes through me as I imagine what a terrifying experience that must’ve been.
I touch the bio monitors on my wrists, followed by those on my upper chest, and my thoughts return to a certain highhanded emperor. That seven-foot-tall barbarian with penetrating purple eyes who likes the way I smell.
Heated spasms affect my core as I recall the deep timbre of his voice and his rich, masculine scent. Yeah, okay, I guess I like the way he smells too.
I’m officially two weeks past due for my hormone suppression shot. Not that I needed to count the days in my head to know that. In addition to the very real dreams I keep having, even brief thoughts of the emperor are enough to make me breathless, enough to cause pangs of warmth between my thighs followed by little shivers of pleasure.
Until recently, I’ve never known what carnal desire feels like. It’s been a complete mystery to me. I’m equally curious and horrified.
Starting at age twelve, just like every citizen of theJansonna, I began attending required yearly seminars given by morality officers. During these talks, I was taught that copulation is disgusting and that it leads to disease and other problems, including damage to the couple’s sexual organs.
Now I’m starting to wonder if all I’ve been taught is a lie.
My father’s generation was the first and last to be born on theJansonnaby natural methods. He’s always claimed the rules surrounding reproduction are just another way for the command team to control our lives. I’ve heard others say it’s a necessary evil, that we must limit reproduction and prevent unsanctioned pregnancies on a ship with dwindling resources. I’m not sure what to think anymore.
I flush when I imagine sharing a bed with Emperor Radakk. Though I’m completely inexperienced—I’ve never so much as kissed a man—I know the mechanics of intercourse. I know he’ll have to shove his hard male appendages between my thighs and thrust for a spell.
A naughty picture forms in my mind, and I find myself growing increasingly achy. I’m almost tempted to reach down my pants and touch the part of me that’s throbbing most urgently, but I sit down and take a few deep breaths, trying to pull myself together.
Without warning, theJansonnashudders and the lights flicker. I grip the arms of the chair and glance at the ceiling.
The lights flicker frequently and there’s a chill in the air. If the environmental controls aren’t working so well in the Founders’ section of the ship, I imagine the lower decks are much worse off.
I doubt the Darrvasons have started making repairs to the worldship yet. If they had, surely I would’ve been handed over to Emperor Radakk by now. I would’ve been among the first wave of human women given to the aliens.
What’s taking so long?
As a spy, whenever I was curious about something, I usually had little trouble tracking down the information I desired. But I’m trapped in these quarters and the guards who deliver my meals are infuriatingly tightlipped. Whenever I ask a question, they completely ignore me. The most they ever say isgood morningormove aside.
I have no idea if Captain Warren and his command team have decided to accept the Darrvasons’ offer. Is the alien fleet still with us because the captain is deliberating or because the aliens are waiting to scavenge fertile women from our dying worldship?
None of the comm screens in my current living space will turn on. I’m certain it’s no accident. The captain doesn’t want me to know if any ship-wide announcements have been made.
Another thought hits me, a very dark one.
I don’t know if any executions have taken place during the last three weeks. Maybe that’s why Captain Warren has disabled the comm screens—he doesn’t want to risk me becoming so upset my bio monitors alert the emperor.
A shuddering breath escapes me.
My father.
It would make sense for the captain to question my friends and relatives. My father, uncles, and cousins. I was too busy to have friends, but I occasionally visited the recreation rooms with some of my coworkers. Innocents who had no idea I was a spy. I say a quick prayer for their well-being but don’t quite extend that prayer to my blood relatives.
