Gentle Chains (The Eleyi Saga Book 1) (21 page)

I glance at her, and decide to redirect. -
You want to do this with
him here?-
Her eyes narrow and I shrug. “I need to go to Chosi.”

She frowns. “Tin told you we found her. Why is this an issue?”

“You found her. But how long will it be before you are willing to go to
her? She’s in danger, Sadi,” I say urgently.

“What we’re doing is important,” she says.

It hits me hard, that she doesn’t immediately agree to go rescue
Chosi’le from whatever hell her owner is inflicting on her. I sit back,
surprised by the ache of betrayal I feel. I shake my head, letting anger slip
in, killing the hurt.

“What exactly
are
you doing
here?” Brando asks. “The truth, this time.”

-Tell him,-
I say harshly, and her
eyes go wide. -
He’s risking his life to protect you. He deserves the truth.-

-He’s following orders.-
She yanks
open the chocolate again.

“I’m a tool,” I say when she doesn’t speak, and Sadi goes still. “She
wanted a face, someone the IPS and its planets would be forced to see.
Something that proved my people are more than chattel.”

Brando is watching her; Tin feels like he’s a short step away from
killing me. I smile. “The amusing part is that she could have gone to Eleyiar
and found that. Instead she went to the auction houses and bought me to show
the universe slavery is wrong. Ironic?”

Brando is staring at her, his expression a mix of revulsion and
admiration. Sadi is shaking with anger as she whispers, “You swore to me. Swore
on Chosi’le’s life that you would tell no one.”

“And you said you’d help me find her,” I throw back. “I’m done, Sadi.
Find someone else to play your games, but my sister needs me. Not sometime when
you’ve changed the galaxy. The slaves of Cenktari don’t want us. The IPS hates
me. I’m
needed,
and we’re not
changing anything. Do you really think a fake romance is going to change
anything?”

Brando jerks, as if struck. He’s staring at her, and she closes her
eyes, exhaustion sweeping her aura. “It’s fake?” he asks roughly.

When she opens her eyes, they are as empty as Fendra’de’s body. “It
changes nothing, Brando. Nothing at all.”

She lifts the chocolate bar and pauses. With a muttered curse, she throws
it on the table and stalks out.

Tin is still glaring at me and I finally look at him. -
What?-

-She deserves better than that. She’s been
nothing but good to you,-
he snarls.

-Am I supposed to be grateful that she’s been a
decent slave owner?-
I demand.
-I am.
Believe me, I know it could have been worse. But the fact remains, Tin. I’m a
slave. It’s hard to remember to be
grateful
for that.-

I don’t wait for a response. There’s nothing either of us can say that
will diffuse this anger. So I stand and make my way through the Leen.

I go to the hold, where the engines drown out the noise of their
thoughts. I feel itchy, nervous in my own skin, anxious to find my sister and, somehow,
guilty for betraying Sadi like that.

With a muttered curse, I settle into Tranquil, hoping I can find some
peace in the ancient forms.

I’m calm when I go to her.

She’s lying on her bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. When I come in,
she turns her head away, and I sigh. Without waiting for an invitation, I slide
into the bed with her, curve around her body and wrap an arm around her.
Without thinking, I let my emotions unfurl and coat her, until she is calm and
sleepy in my embrace.

“Tell me what happened between you and Brando,” I say.

She laughs, and twists to look at me. “You really want to know about
him?”

“I want to know about you,” I correct. “I want to understand
you
. And I think that knowing what
happened between you will help.”

She takes a breath, lets it out in a sigh against my shoulder. “I loved
him,” she says simply. “After the kidnapping, when he brought me home, he was
always with me. Daddy didn’t trust anyone else—and neither did Brando. He was
suddenly important in Daddy’s staff. That didn’t matter to me. What mattered
was, Brando saved my life—he came for me when no one else did. He risked
everything to bring me home. And he was there for every play rehearsal, debate
match, science experiment, and kitchen disaster. He was with me when I was
giggling with my friends, or walking to class, or waking up screaming from
nightmares. He always held me until I felt safe again.”
 
A smile quirks her lips. “He didn’t realize
that as soon as I was awake, as soon as I saw him, I felt safe. It was
impossible for me to feel anything but safe with Brando.

“The worst part was that he didn’t know. He spent almost every waking
minute at my side, watched me constantly, and never realized how I felt. I
dated idiot school boys, and every time one of them touched me, I wanted Brando
to pull him away, to carry me to safety. He never did.”

“He still doesn’t know?” I ask, softly.

“He knows. After one really horrible date, I was crying. Brando made me
hot chocolate and listened to me whine for a while and finally asked why I was
with them if I didn’t want to be. He was perceptive enough to notice that.” She
smiles, her eyes distant, her psyche is a bittersweet mix. “I told him I
couldn’t get the man I loved to notice me, so why not?”

-What did he say?-
I
ask, gently, just outside her mental walls.

She shrugs. -
He said he noticed. That, if things were different, I
would be everything he had never thought to wish for. But he had a duty, and
that came before his feelings.-

 
“Is that when Tin took over your security?”

She shakes her head. “No. We made do, me in love with him, him ignoring how
we both felt, until nine months ago. That’s when Tin came to work with me and
Brando took over security for Daddy.”

“And now he’s back,” I say, my voice tight. “Why?”

“Because he doesn’t think I love him. He assumes since I have you, I’ll
have forgotten. So it’s safe to protect me again, and he’s never really trusted
anyone else to.”

The thought makes me slightly queasy and I don’t ask if it’s true. Or if
she will always love him. I can taste the truth in her psyche, the longing she
tries to ignore, and I hate him for a heartbeat.

The emotion stuns me.

She rolls, props herself up on an elbow to stare into my eyes. “It
changes nothing, Juhan. Brando left because he needed the space. Because he
wouldn’t put us before duty. That will never change for him.”

I smile at her, lean down and kiss her. I have kissed her so often, it
shouldn’t surprise me anymore, but this time is different. Her lips are soft,
warm, and for a strange moment, they remind me painfully of home. I close my
eyes, and as her hands creep up, wrap around my shoulders, I know I could nudge
her. A tiny nudge of her emotions and she would forget loving Brando, forget
loving anyone but me, forget that she
doesn’t
love me. I could make her
love me so much she would do anything for me.

Immediately, guilt makes me pull away, a tiny fraction of space. She
blinks up at me, heavy lids and full, pouty lips. Without thinking, I kiss her
again, deeper, nibbling at her lower lip until she gasps and my tongue sweeps
into her mouth, tangling with hers, her hands in my hair. Her psyche is heavy,
thick with lust. It wraps around me until it’s almost my own, until everything
fades except her, and this, and her hands on me. Until I want nothing but
her—us—naked and together.

And it terrifies me. She has to remember—we both have to remember—that
there is no happy ending here. There is no ending that matters more than Chosi.
So I gently detach myself from her mind and kiss her one last time, softly.
Roll so that she’s tucked close to my body.

“Juhan?” she murmurs.

-Shh,
Sadi. Enough questions tonight. Tomorrow is a new day. But we have to go to
Pente-

Chapter 25

Chosi’le

“YOU
WILL
TAKE AN aide,”
Prator says, and I stare at the ground. Anger and despair roll through me in
waves, making it hard to think. Hard to fight.

“If I do, you’ll just kill him,” I say dully.

The flare of familiar anger from Prator is at once terrifying and
satisfying. Ja Argot growls under his breath, and Prator stiffens. “I told you
she was too valuable to play mind games with. And what do you do? You kill the
only slave she gives two thoughts about.”

Prator glares at his brother, but there are some lines even he won’t
cross. He will not gainsay him with an audience. I close my eyes, exhausted.

“You’ll take an aide, Brielle,” Henri says, “or I will kill one of the
draken. And assign you an aide.”

My stomach clenches, and I grit my teeth to keep myself in place. I want
to claw his eyes out—but his threat is too real.

“I will take an aide of my own choosing, if I am permitted to fight in
the next games,” I say, softly.

Even with my eyes downcast, I feel the quick glance the brothers
exchange. The rustle of movement as Argot sits, and then an explosive sigh from
Prator. “She needs a rest. She’s fought in three consecutive games,” he says,
as close to challenging Argot as I have ever seen.

“The crowds adore her. And the patrons enjoy seeing what their money
pays for,” Argot answers, unruffled.

“Fine,” Prator snaps. “Against the garilia. Does that suit you, lady
Spectacle?”

I shrug. “If it pleases the Ja.”

Prator snorts, and waves a hand. “Now your turn, Brielle. Name an aide.”

I have put this off for over a month, and still the thought of replacing
Jemes makes my heart hurt. I look at the ground, reviewing the slaves I know of
and then: “Petyr.”

Prator’s eyes narrow, and I smile, a cold and satisfied smile. We both
know Petyr told him about my affair with Jemes. He will gain no advantage over
me by killing an Eleyi I hate almost as much as I hate him. If I could name
Catelyn, I would. He nods once, and I am dismissed.

The suns are setting, and I can hear the glads clamoring in the dining
hall. I want to skip last meal, but the last time I did that, Prator had me
beaten and force-fed for two days.

Defiance isn’t worth the punishment, so I trudge toward the dining hall.

The gladiators fall back as I enter, and I know it is because I am the
darling of the crowds.

And because I am the slave who refuses Prator. He was quick to spread
the word that Jemes died because I refused his bed, and it’s earned me some
notoriety, and more derision. If I had enemies before my first fight, it is
nothing compared to the hatred they feel for me now. Now that the blood of a
fellow slave stains my hands, and the crowd favors me. One of the glads spits,
the warm spittle landing in my long bangs.

“Brielle.”

I pause, my eyes closing. I can hear the screams again, the defeated
look in his eyes before the last blow fell. His voice when I found him in the
medhall later, hysterical with grief, begging me to understand.

“What, Kristoff?” I say without turning. I don’t trust myself to look at
him and not break into tears.

And breaking, these days, is so terribly easy.

“How long will you punish me for something I couldn’t control?” he asks,
his mind a mixture of sadness and anger. “I was under orders, with my own love
to protect.”

“I know,” I say, same as I’ve said every time we’ve had this argument.
And I do know. I just don’t want to understand. And I can’t forgive.

He curses as I shake my head. “I need more time, Kristoff. I loved him,”
I whisper, and he drops my hand. It’s my cue, and I flee, almost throwing the
package of food down as I race toward my haven: the draken.

I can feel his worry as I run, feel his frustration and concern. I can’t
make myself care.

Why bother? Everything I care about is destroyed. I stop in my rooms, so
empty now, and swallow two of the pain pills Jenalle prescribed so long ago.
I’m running low, but I have enough to kill myself, if I decide being a coward
is an option. And Jenalle will give me more if I’m injured in the arena.

A whisper of awareness, questioning, and I shove the thought of suicide
away. I can’t die, because as much as I try not to care, there are still
my
draken.

In their cave, I curl up with Natsu and open my mind. As their memories
and dreams flood me, I am able to forget my empty rooms, the place where Jemes
should be and isn’t. I can forget the brother who has abandoned me for a pretty
little bitch. I can forget everything but now. It’s the best drug I’ve found,
outside the arena.

Miwya is quiet, watching me, and I know he wants to press, so I head off
his questions. “Prator has agreed to our fighting in the Jebule Games.”

Miwya shakes his head, flexing the wing that was hurt in the last fight.
-
I can’t yet.-

-Natsu or Meinia can, then. It won’t be as
spectacular, but it’s good to surprise the audience.-

Miwya rumbles, a small jet of flame filling the air in front of him with
a whiff of burnt ozone and raw meat. -
You need to rest.-

I look at him with eyes suddenly haunted, and he gentles, reaching for
me. -
Chosi’le…-

-He’s waiting for me to rest,-
I
say, my voice empty
. -If I sleep, he’s waiting, and so is Juhan. I can’t
rest.-

I feel the current of concern from Natsu and Sora and then, Miwya says
quietly, -
Fine, Chosi. You can rest here, and we will guard your dreams.-

Dangerous.

It is so dangerous to love these wild creatures. They’ve wormed their
way into my heart, a place I thought would always belong to Juhan. Blinking
back tears, I nod and curl into the warmth of Natsu, and let my eyes close,
trying to forget how to dream, to forget how everything I care about turns to
dust.

I can feel Meinia watching me and I shiver. Of all the draken, he is the
only one who dislikes me. His bronze eyes gleam in the firelight, and finally
he snorts, laying his head down and I drift into sleep.

-Meinia, dive,-
I
snap.

The draken bugles, furious. The holostim cuts off as the wilding
pack—savage dogs from Teren—tears into him. I throw the device down, choking
back a scream of frustration. The other draken watch warily as I stalk toward
Meinia. He hisses at me, blocking me from his mind. For a moment, the illusion
of smoke and shadow intensifies and I mutter a curse, throwing out my will and
breaking his illusion.

-Everyone back to the cave,-
I
say, my voice soft and directed at everyone but Meinia. I don’t know what I’ve
done to deserve their obedience, but they all turn, climbing to the cleft in
the mountain. Natsu sends one last worried look at us before she ducks in.

Meinia lounges in the sun, his eyes closed. It makes me even angrier and
for the first time, I consider using the laser harness—really using it. The
thought sobers me and I toss it down with the holostim, pulling my whip out
with a soft hiss. Meinia stiffens, but otherwise does not react, his eyes
stubbornly closed.

Muttering a prayer he doesn’t turn on me, I snap the whip, and he jumps
as the tip stings across his nose. “
Meinia, attend!”
I snarl, and the
draken hisses back. The lash is harder this time, and he roars at me, rearing
up on his hind legs.

For a heartbeat, I am tempted to back down, to let him kill me. How easy
would it be?

Then rage washes over me, and I scream back, startling us both. He drops
down, his psyche a mass of fury.

-You aren’t worth our trust,-
he
spits.

I would flinch, except it’s true, and denying it will do nothing but
make him angrier. -
I know,-
I say instead.

-
How many times do you consider death a day, Brielle? How many times
do you think to abandon us?-
he demands.

Every hour. Every minute would be closer to the truth and I let my head
drop under the weight of his disgust.  -
Too often,-
I answer.

The admission cools his anger and he drops on all fours on the sands. I
can feel his hostility, but it’s calmer. -
We
deserve someone who won’t abandon us because the Ja broke her spirit,-
he
says, exhausted
. -Your brother would expect more of you.-

It’s a low blow and I look up, glaring. -
I haven’t abandoned you,
have I? I’ve held on even when it’s easier to give up.-

His eyes go distant, as if he is listening to something I can’t hear. -
For
now.-

I glance behind me, to where he is gazing, and my stomach lurches when I
see Petyr standing near the edge of the practice field, watching us with
undisguised interest. I feel Meinia’s confusion, and turn back to him as he
swivels his head, one bronze eye staring at me. -
Why is he here?-

-I had to take an aide,-
I
say, suppressing a sigh. -
Better one that can’t be used against me.-

For a long moment, I feel his emotions wavering between anger and
surprise and admiration. Then they smooth, settle into a blank slate, and he
dips his head. -
Am I free to go?-

I nod, turning my back to him as I reach for the discarded holostim and
harness. I hear Petyr gasp, feel his sharp spike of fear as Meinia throws
himself into the air, his wings stirring dust that stings my eyes. I
straighten, and walk to my new aide.

“Prator said I was to report to you,” he says, dislike evident in his
tone.

“I’ve taken you as my new aide,” I tell him blankly, and his fear spikes
again. “You’ll need to learn to control that, or they’ll eat you alive.” He
pales, and I quickly amend, “Figuratively speaking. Draken don’t actually eat
people. I don’t think.”

He’s quiet for a few moments, and I shove my gear at him, reaching up to
knock dirt from my hair. “Why me?” he asks after a moment.

I smile, coldly. “Because I don’t give a fuck if Prator kills you.” His
eyes narrow, and I turn away, satisfied. Better he knows where he stands than
to wonder. “Come on. We have to feed them before we go to last meal, and you
need to clean their caves.”