Owning His Bride (12 page)

He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Are you now?”

Despite months of marriage and all manner of the scandalous activities she’d shared with this man, she felt her face heating. “Yes.”

His visage became more somber then. “You must tell me the moment you feel a twinge of labor, Becca. It might take the doctor an hour or more to reach us from Emalia.”

She rested a hand on his chest. “It will be fine. Besides, that won’t happen for another few months. Stop worrying.”

“I’m your husband. It’s my job to worry about you. To protect you, as well,” he added, and she knew he was referring to the reason for her sore bottom.

She sighed and sipped at her tea while peering at him from over the rim of her mug. “I have always been good at climbing trees.”

“Becca, if I must have this argument with you again, it will be with you bent over the bed, your naughty bottom bared and awaiting the hairbrush. You may climb
small
trees again, once you’ve had our child and are sufficiently recovered from giving birth.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied, though judging from his exasperated look, she probably didn’t sound as meek as he would have preferred. She loved to pick the various fruits from the trees along the beach, and yesterday he’d caught her with her arms full of banana-like fruits that only grew on the tops of some of the tallest trees. A shiver ran through her at the memory of the stern scolding he’d given her, followed by a firm spanking with her hairbrush that had brought her to tears.

“The rainy season will start soon,” he said, gazing at a flock of birds swooping across the sparkling water. They had a perfect view of the beach from the balcony too.

Becca finished her tea and set it aside, then leaned against Hunter’s chest to listen to his heartbeat, one of her favorite pastimes. She thought of the frightened girl she once was, the girl who would’ve sold her soul to Lucifer for a simple hug. Now she didn’t lack for affection one bit. Hunter took care of all of her needs, and if she thought hard she only had one complaint, but it was an issue she feared to broach with him.

She knew without a doubt she loved him. She thanked God every day for Hunter coming into her life. But she’d never confessed this deep love to her husband, and though she could discern by his actions that he cared for her, he hadn’t professed any words of love to her either. She tried not to think about it and just be thankful for all that she’d gained since leaving Kemmius, but in the stillness of the night she often lay awake trying to work up the courage to tell him the very last secret of her heart. But the fear that he wouldn’t reciprocate her feelings held her back time and time again.

That sort of rejection was one she didn’t think she could bear, so she kept silent on the matter and kept hoping and praying he’d say it first. Yet he never did, and sometimes she felt as if her heart would break into a thousand pieces. But then he would smile at her and draw her close, wrapping her in his arms for no other reason than he wanted to embrace her, wanted to feel her near him.

He made sure the doctor from the main island visited to give her regular checkups, and he made sure she ate a healthy diet and didn’t risk her safety. He still prepared her favorite foods on the nights she was too fatigued to cook, making them from scratch since he didn’t wish to use the food synthesizer unless absolutely necessary. All things considered, not excluding the fact that he owned her, Hunter treated her quite well. She hoped that some of the other Kemmius women, particularly Emmie, the young woman whose cell had been next to hers, one day found happiness with one of the departing guards.

At least she could rest in the knowledge that the warden hadn’t been given a bride to torture, or his service payout for that matter. Hunter had turned over evidence against the dreadful man to the port authorities, and recently a contact of his from the Interstellar Port sent news of the warden’s downfall. The bastard had been sent away from Kemmius empty-handed and disgraced, with orders to board a public transport at the Interstellar Port and return to Earth.

She shook the thoughts away, not wishing to spare another second thinking about the man who’d once struck fear into her heart on a daily basis. She rubbed her cheek against Hunter’s shirt and practically purred when he stroked a hand through her hair.

“Come on, little one. Let’s go to the kitchen and I’ll make you some breakfast.” He helped her off his lap.

“Sounds nice.” She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. “You know, our relaxing breakfasts on the terrace are soon to come to an end,” she said, touching her stomach.

“You have a point.” He cupped her face and grinned. “Tell you what. Go wait for me on the terrace and I’ll be there shortly with a couple of omelets.”

She brightened. “With extra cheese?”

“Yes, and mushrooms too.”

After another kiss and a pat to her backside, Hunter disappeared into the house. She remained on the balcony for a minute longer, staring across the landscape. The sky was ominous to the south with gathering storm clouds. A flash of lightning on the horizon confirmed her suspicions of incoming bad weather, and rather than venture up to the terrace, she decided to warn Hunter before he brought their breakfast up from the kitchen. Maybe later this evening, once the storm passed, they could enjoy a late dinner under the stars.

She strode into the house and padded down a hallway lined with artwork they’d picked out together on the main island. She smiled at the memory of her first trip to Emalia on the new sleek boat Hunter had just purchased, to the bustling city on the shore known as Seccona, and how no one had so much as glanced at her wrists. In fact, she’d spotted several women with markings of their own. It seemed she wasn’t the only Kemmius bride brought to Merro by her new husband, and somehow that gave her comfort.

Becca paused to look at her favorite art piece, an image of a bird soaring above the clouds. A shadow suddenly fell across the white billowing clouds on the painting and she jumped. Then she crossed her arms and started turning around. “Hunter, don’t sneak up on me like…”

A man with a pair of icy blue eyes stared down at her. She couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe, as she gaped up at him. Her blood ran cold.

No, it couldn’t be him. Not him. Not here in their house. The familiar scent of whiskey and repelling body odor made her stomach turn and deepened her terror.

“Hello, Prisoner 343C.”

He clamped a hand over her mouth, covering her scream, and slammed her against the painting. He stuck a needle into her upper arm, and then the world went black.

* * *

Hunter hurried up the steps with a tray of food, anxious to join his wife. He’d glimpsed an incoming storm from the kitchen window while he was preparing their breakfast, and he hoped they had enough time to eat before the sky opened up. Though the rainy season was a few weeks away, quick storms blew across the island on occasion. Today’s inclement weather would be a good reason to stay indoors with Becca though, so he welcomed the showers to fall after breakfast.

He stopped on the third floor hallway and frowned. A painting had fallen on the floor, a painting he knew for sure hadn’t been out of place during his trip downstairs. He set the tray down and cocked his head, listening for any noises of distress. Aside from the typical sounds of the forest spilling in with the breeze, he heard nothing. Still, it was odd that the painting had just fallen down. He’d hung all the artwork with great care.

“Becca?” he called in a raised voice, loud enough that she should hear, even from the roof. “Becca!” he repeated, now rushing up the hall. Images of harm coming to her played through his mind, propelling him to race faster.

He bolted out onto the terrace, scanning for signs of his wife only to find it empty.

In his confusion and worry, he lifted his gaze to the ever darkening sky. The sight of a small transport hovering over the trees, and shooting away from the island an instant later, filled him with cold terror.

Someone had taken Becca.

* * *

All the muscles in her body ached, but even worse than that was the constant throbbing of her head. Becca blinked against a bright light, trying desperately to awaken. Something nagged at her in the back of her mind, a voice that insisted she rouse immediately. But she was so tired and in such pain. The relief promised by sleep continued to tempt her, especially when a rocking motion—was she on a transport?—left her increasingly nauseated.

“Hunter,” she whispered, but her throat hurt when she tried to speak.

She shifted on a cool, hard surface and tried to sit up, but she couldn’t make her arms or legs cooperate.

“We’re almost there, girl. Almost at your new home.”

Even in her confusion, she knew
that
voice, knew that she should be beyond terrified. Her eyes shot open and she gave a start. She looked at her bound wrists and panic swelled. She tried to kick her feet and soon realized her ankles were bound together as well.

He
had tied her up.

Her stomach rolled and she lifted her head to spill its contents.

“Fucking bitch,” his voice came again, reminding her that she wasn’t alone.

He had her. He’d taken her. Where was Hunter? Oh, God. Was Hunter hurt? Did he know she was missing? She closed her eyes again and slowly pieced her most recent memories back into order. The balcony and the sunrise. Hunter and the suggestion of breakfast on the terrace. Storm clouds on the horizon. Cold blue eyes staring at her in the hallway.
Him
.

The warden.

She concentrated on breathing for fear that she’d pass out again, and finally opened her eyes to confirm her worst fears had been realized.

From the pilot seat of a small transport, he sneered down at her, fixing her with a dark smile that promised so much hurt. Yes, it was the warden, and he had her tied up on a transport taking her away from the island, away from Hunter.

She rolled away from her vomit and searched out a window. Beyond the transport, she saw no darkness, no stars. They weren’t in space, which meant they were still on Merro. She didn’t know much about interplanetary travel, but she didn’t think ships this small were intended for space travel. Tiny oval windows circled the small space, and there was only one door beside the pilot seat. There weren’t any other rooms on this transport, and she hoped she was right about it not being able to take them away from Merro. If she remained on this planet, perhaps Hunter would be able to track her down, be able to save her from the certain death that awaited her.

Of course she wasn’t so naïve as to think he would kill her right away. No. The warden probably had a sadistic plan for her.

Tears burned in her eyes. What if she never saw Hunter again? What if he couldn’t find her? What if the warden harmed her baby?

“Stop your crying, bitch, or I’ll give you something to cry about.” He gripped the controls as he smirked at her.

“Did you hurt Hunter?” she asked, finally forcing some words from her parched throat.

His gaze glittered, as if the idea of hurting Hunter excited him. “He’s dead.”

“No. You’re lying. He can’t be… gone.” Sorrow closed in on her.
Please, God, don’t let it be true.

“Oh, it’s true, inmate. I choked the life out of him.” He smiled, revealing crooked yellow teeth. “But don’t worry. I’m not planning on killing you. I promised to claim you as my wife once, remember? Of course, first things first. You’ve been a naughty girl, Becca, and I’m going to have to punish you severely. Quiet down now, bitch. We’re almost at our new home.”

She rested her cheek against the cold floor, her mind in a dark haze. Tears streamed down her face. Hunter was gone, dead. The warden had her and no one would know to rescue her. The minor authorities on this planet, only loosely affiliated with the port authority, wouldn’t bother with a Kemmius woman, or any woman for that matter.

The transport landed with a thud that knocked the wind from Becca’s stomach. She wondered if the ship was stolen. Certainly the warden didn’t have a license, or the funds, to pilot a transport. He hadn’t received his service payout, so how had he managed to make it all the way to Merro?

She shrank away as he crouched over her, putting her bound hands in front of her face as if to ward him off. She screamed and thrashed around while he hauled her out of the transport, but he managed to get her inside a small debilitated house despite her protests. During her struggles outside, she saw nothing but trees, but thought she heard a rushing of water that suggested a nearby river. Nevertheless, she suspected their location was far from civilization.

So this was the end. This was how her life would turn out after all.

He tossed her on a foul-smelling bed, and she blinked hard as her vision adjusted to the dim light. She was in a one-room cabin, perhaps a house a gold miner had abandoned years ago. She’d read about many such structures existing, particularly around the rivers and streams on Merro. Once the gold in the rivers was depleted, the miners left and moved on to another adventure.

“Where are we?” She had to ask the question, even if he didn’t provide an answer. Besides, the more she got him talking, the longer he might leave her alone.

“I already told you. Our new home.” He stood above her, his eyes dancing with excitement, his stare reflecting utter madness. She’d always thought him to be unhinged, but now he looked hopelessly deranged, as if the final thread of his sanity had snapped after he’d been sent away from Kemmius.

“Are we near Emalia, the main island?” she ventured, keeping her voice calm. She managed to sit up, though with her wrists and ankles still bound the position pained her.

He scratched his stomach. “We’re a hundred miles from a single soul, inmate.”

Her heart sank at his words, if it were possible for it to sink any lower. She was devastated, couldn’t believe Hunter, her caring husband, had met his end at the warden’s hands. Her tears flowed freely. She wanted to be alone right now in her grief, but she knew the warden had other plans, plans that would probably make her cry harder.