Harness (8 page)

She reverted quickly to her Sukra shape. Shifting was another thing that made her dizzy. “My Sukra shape takes after my father’s side, and for most of my life, I have believed that he was a predator of the worst sort. It was a heavy burden to think I came into the world via violence.”

Deborah had tears tracking down her cheeks. “I didn’t know what he was, what had happened. I reported it and didn’t find out for two days what my boyfriend actually was. Once I accepted it, it was too late. I was pregnant and the file was in place. No one was going to find the man with skin like pearl and hair like blood.”

Fred asked him, “Was it easy to give up your child?”

Yeren-las swallowed, and it was Deborah’s turn to support him. “It was the hardest thing I have ever done. I watched over you for years, but I had to leave when the Alliance began to close your star system. Deborah and I took our sons and left you behind. There is nothing I have ever regretted as much as I have obeying the voices that told me what to do.”

“I will let you know that it was necessary. I needed to come here with the knowledge of three hundred shapes and the mind control of a child. There was only one way to have that happen, so that is what was done. I am coming to grips with it, and I will have you know your family is welcome here. Your home has been prepared.”

El-sur helped her to her feet and held her when she swayed.

“Enjoy your new home and ask my immigration secretary if you need anything.”

Deborah blinked. “You are pregnant.”

“Yup.”

Deborah laughed. “I was sick as a dog with you. It took me until the seventh month before my stomach settled. The only thing that worked was having Yeren-las—Anthony back then—rub my feet. I don’t know why it worked, but it did.”

El-sur grinned, “I have rubbed every other part of her to no effect. She is highly ticklish though.”

Yeren-las helped his wife to her feet. “Just persist. The sensitivity fades.”

Fred reached out and hugged her mother and then her father. His mind touched hers for a moment, and she smiled. “Just as good, huh? I will send the report to the Nyal Imperium. They can put a bid in for the second wave of Terrans.”

Deborah blinked and the boys figured out what was going on. Alfredo came forward again, “You are our sister?”

Tomaro didn’t hesitate, he hugged her, and Alfredo was right behind.

“Don’t squeeze too tight boys, contents under pressure, don’t you know.”

They began chattering at her, and she tried to answer their questions, but after a few moments, the Elders stepped forward. “She needs to rest. She has not been well today.”

El-sur spoke quickly with Yeren-las, and a few minutes later, Fred was in her office and El-sure was rubbing her feet.

“This is probably why I can’t keep shoes on you. Your body is calmed by the pressure.”

She sighed happily. “Shut up and keep rubbing.”

* * * *

Five months, forty family dinners with her parents and brothers, five gatherings with both sides of the family, and one hundred and eighty-three Sukra on Arxuxsa later, the next baby girl came into the world with dark gold eyes and a shock of deep green hair.

Neeva-sur was full term and her mind grabbed at Fred’s the moment she was no longer physically connected to her mother.

“She has a very strong mental grip.” Fred smiled at her daughter while she worked at binding the incoming census.

Deborah was holding her granddaughter and rocking her back and forth. “You did as well. Yeren-las had to break the bond between us, and it almost killed me.”

“Who gave me the book?”

“That was Yeren-las’s idea. The book was mine.”

Fred wiped her hands and got up, opening the hidden door to expose her private library. “I have rebound it a few times, but here it is.”

Bound in leather, studded in gems, the plain book of English poetry.

“I had always thought that the nun gave it to me, but I went over what the records said, and it said that
she had a book in the bassinet and so Sister Hecuba named her Alfreda after Saint Alfred
. It had not occurred to me that it might be a gift from my parents.”

“You kept it all these years?”

“It was a touchstone to the first record of me in this world. I am guessing that I was a home birth?”

“Oh yeah. I am amazed that Yeren-las still wanted to touch me after that, but he brought you into the world without so much as a whimper.”

“And obviously, it didn’t freak him out too much.” Fred chuckled and watched her mother run a hand over the bound volume.

“It did for a while, but the loss that we suffered bound us together in a way that neither of us had anticipated.”

“Why were you a minor when the report was made?”

“It was the day before my eighteenth birthday. We anticipated the legality.” Deborah made a face.

“It had to be that way or I would have found you.”

“I wish you had.” Deborah’s face showed her regret.

Fred changed the topic. “So, do you want more little ones?”

“Of course. Yeren-las is hoping for another daughter. He was delighted beyond all bearing when he saw you. The first girl in generations.”

“And now, the second is having a nap in your arms and trying to consume her fist using slobber.” Fred checked in on Neeva-sur. The baby was clean, fed and having a nice nap.

Fred returned to the book she was working on and continued the binding process.

Deborah asked, “How did you learn to do that?”

Fred smiled, “It was the first touch of the Elders. They taught me this skill to keep my mind from going crazy when my body was out of my control. You can always put the pages together and bind them. I was like a broken book. The whole story was there but the pages needed to be put in their proper order. Now that it is, I can tell the story without hesitation.”

She wiped her hands and took the baby back. “New book for you little Neeva-sur. A journal will be made of everything you say and do. When you can write, you can make your own story. We will be there helping you every step of the way.”

The baby opened her dark gold eyes, and she blinked slowly before returning to her fist-sucking sleep.

“That is a beautiful sentiment.”

“I am glad you think so. I have a journal for you as well.” With her baby in one arm, she reached out and pulled out a massive journal. “I am missing a few years of your life; I would like to learn about them if you will share them with me.”

Deborah smiled and clutched the huge tome. “I will be delighted to start with the night I met your father.”

“Thank you. It will help finish the start of my story. So far, I only have the middle.” Fred sat back and rocked her baby slowly with her mother sitting down at the table and opening to start the journal.

It took one year to finish the story of the Yeren-las and Deborah union. Their three children and their place in their life were all described in detail.

When Fred finished reading, the family had just landed on Arxuxsa and they were on their way to meet with the Consul. She closed the book and smiled at El-sur. “And they lived happily ever after.”

“Did they?”

“Well, they are doing their best. It is all we can do. We are all working toward our happily ever after, and I want all the
ever after
I can get.” She laughed, and Neeva-sur echoed her laughter, throwing noodles at her father.

El-sur smiled and wiped up the damage, getting another handful of noodles on his head for his trouble.

“Yeah, this is my happily ever after, and little Neeva-sur…that is going in the book.”

Harness
was a means to an end. She starts out bound physically and then finds that her emotional ties are what is really holding her back.

Honour
will take us into the life of a stolen Terran, where keeping her word is the only thing keeping her enslaved. Is honour more important than freedom, or can both be found with enough patience?

Thanks for reading,

Viola Grace

[email protected]

http://www.violagrace.com

Viola Grace was born in Manitoba, Canada where she still resides today. She really likes it there. She has no pets and can barely keep sea monkeys alive for a reasonable amount of time. Her line of day job tends to be analytical which leaves her mind hopping to weave stories. No co-worker is safe from her character analysis. In keeping with busy hands are happy hands, her hobbies have included cross-stitch, needlepoint, quilting, costuming, cake decorating, baking, cooking, metal work, beading, sculpting, painting, doll making, henna tattoos, chain mail, and a few others that have been forgotten. It is quite often that these hobbies make their way into her tales.

Viola’s fetishes include boots and corsetry, and her greatest weakness is her uncontrollable blush. Her writing actively pursues the Happily Ever After that so rarely occurs in nature. It is an admirable thing and something that we should all strive for. To find one that we truly like, as well as love.