Warrior (3 page)

Though males and females did not become friends, if he had to name the feeling that germinated during those difficult days, what else could he call it, but amity? Frequent contact had grown into physical awareness, and from there, concupiscence.

As he scanned her face, he realized she appeared troubled. Guilt for his lack of control stabbed at him. “I am sorry about spilling myself in your mouth.” He did not wish to disgust her more than necessary. But, then again,
she
had sought him out. If a male’s physical pleasure repulsed females, why did this one voluntarily engage him? He would never understand the female mind—such as it was.

Anika clenched her hands and stared at the wall. She took a breath. “Marlix is sending me to Commander Ilian.”

“Why?”

“To become his breeder.”

Dismay rendered him motionless and unable to speak. An image of the Alpha using her, impregnating her, taking her in the way Urazi had denied himself, formed a haze that flooded his vision until Anika blanked out and all he saw was red.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“When?” he managed to grit out.

“Tomorrow.”

So. It was done.

He’d known Marlix had been trying to find an alpha willing to accept Anika, but had counted on her disgrace to lessen her prospects. Foolish to assume an Alpha could not achieve his aim.

But Ilian? Urazi never would have predicted Marlix could place Anika with a
Commander
. Alphas demanded breeders of purity. Not soiled goods. Marlix had done well. Although Anika could never have status of her own, she would know the honor of producing an Alpha’s sons. Ilian could give her what Urazi could not.

“Alpha Marlix has made a wise decision. Commander Ilian is kind. To become his—” he broke off, unable to force
breeder
and its connotation past his lips.” To serve in his household is a great honor for a female.”

Anika worked her mouth. “That is all you have to say?” She stared at him, her eyes huge in her face.

Urazi blinked to avoid embarrassing himself. “I wish you many sons.”

* * * *

Anika leaned against the locked door and released the tears. Patchy memories explained how she’d reached her chamber: leaping off Urazi’s sleeping platform, grabbing her shift—she had no recollection of putting it on, but she was wearing it, so she must have—then stumbling from the room. Had Urazi called her name, or had she only wished he had?

Anika pressed a fist to her mouth.
What did you expect? He would accept responsibility for you? Would stand up to Marlix? To Ilian?

She’d offered herself one final time to say good-bye and, with a foolish hope, had apprised him of Marlix’s intention. She understood Urazi owed his fealty to the Commander. And only the most mentally deficient beta would challenge an Alpha, let alone
two
of them, but couldn’t he have cared
a little
that another might use her?

“Oh Jergan,” Anika cried, her loss crashing down upon her. She’d always been grateful to the beta whose possession had liberated her from the BCF, and had served him dutifully, but the secret she had not shared with anyone was he’d held her in greater regard than she’d had for him. Jergan had
died
protecting her. Urazi had killed Jergan’s attacker, but the reason Urazi had appeared at all was because Marlix had dispatched him to locate Tara. With Jergan gone, Marlix intended to send her away, and Urazi did not care.

Anika had never felt more alone than she did in this moment.
A female against the world
. She hugged herself. In the warmth of Marlix’s subterranean abode, one could forget winter froze the planet’s surface. Would she leave here to sleep under a bridge? She might locate a refugee camp, but scarcity prevailed during war, and camp denizens might shun another mouth to feed, a female one. Qalin had razed or burned numerous villages. Many were homeless. Hungry. Desperate.

Perhaps Marlix was correct—maybe she did need a male to provide for her. Maybe she should acquiesce and go to Ilian. He was no Qalin. Or Artom. By everyone’s accounts, he was tolerant, not prone to the violent excesses characteristic of Alphas. And, if she produced a son, she would find favor. Perhaps, after she bore him several, he would not use her very often, and she could spend her remaining days cocooned in the memories of the small freedoms she had had.

Except, that was no existence at all.

She straightened from her slumped position.

Did a warrior surrender when the battle grew fierce? No. He fought harder.

If she accepted defeat then she deserved what she received.

She needed to remember her origins. Parseon. Female, yes, but still the offspring of a sire who had produced a Commander. Alpha blood ran in her veins.

She would not go down without a fight.

Anika scrubbed the tears from her eyes and changed into her warmest winter shift and leggings, layering two of each for added warmth. Woolen foot sheaths came next, and then she tugged on her gifted boots. The Terran footwear felt stiff and constrictive, but at least she had plenty of toe room. For such a small person, Tara had surprisingly large feet. In the bottom of the skein bag, she discovered one of her friend’s long, pointy
knitting
needles. It was more knife-like than the small pocket dagger. Probably, Tara hadn’t intended to include the needle, but she owned many and would not miss one. Anika tucked both objects into her boot.

Around her thigh, she strapped a sheath with Jergan’s dagger.

Finally, she double-checked the contents of her bag to make sure she hadn’t omitted anything important. Though she doubted she would have use for the
bleeech
or the contact lenses, she appreciated the sentiment behind the gifts and would carry them as mementos of a treasured friendship. From the food preparation room, she’d appropriated a small elasticene travel pouch for water, all the
panna
as she could get her hands on
,
a few dried pomes, and a hunk of meat, which she’d wrapped in a cloth. She would eat that first, before it spoiled.

She slipped her arms into the pack. It felt heavy on her shoulders, but no weightier than the journey ahead. Anika took a deep breath.
I can do this.
She eased open the door, slipped into the corridor, and tiptoed through the domicile to the elevation tube that would transport her to the surface. Light glowed from the gene scanner mounted on the wall.

Did she have access?
What would she do if she couldn’t get out? The few times she’d gone to the surface since the start of the war, she’d been with Marlix or Urazi, who’d operated the scanner. She hadn’t had authorization to turn on the lights in Urazi’s chamber!

I cannot go to Ilian. I cannot!

Heart in her throat, she palmed the screen. For moment, nothing happened, then the screen changed color, and the elevation tube doors
whooshed
open. Anika scooted inside, and the doors closed. The tube ascended.

When Marlix could not locate her, he would check the scanner and discover her imprint record. But, by then, she would be far away from his domicile.

The doors parted, and a blast of icy night air rushed in. Her face tingled with cold. On the chill wind, she detected the taint of warfare, of the discharge of weaponry, of villages reduced to smoke and cinders.

It smelled like freedom.

Anika stepped out of the tube.

Chapter Three

“Commander, I fear the morning meal will grow cold—shall I serve it or continue to wait?” Nibor, the beta cook, checked with Marlix, then eyed Anika’s vacant seat.

“Bring it.” Marlix waved his hand.

The cook departed, and Marlix leveled a scowl at Urazi and Tara. “I have been too indulgent. My female sibling assumes too many liberties. Perhaps, if she goes hungry, she will learn.”

Urazi would go hungry, too. He did not know how he would force down a morsel with his stomach twisted by anguish. The Alpha was within his rights to send Anika away for breeding, but did he have no empathy for her situation at all? To never again see her friends or the family of her birth? To be sent to a strange household, to be used by a male she’d only met once?
Impregnated
.

Tara had softened Marlix, but today he demonstrated none of that tenderness, his face appearing as if cast in stone, except for a tic beneath his eye. He glanced at his breeder and arched his eyebrows. “Have you nothing to say?” He seemed to challenge her.

Usually when Marlix “went all Alpha” as Tara called it, she would rebuke him with a sharp comment—or at least a scowl. This morning, she did neither, but focused on her eating utensils. The cook must not have placed them on the tabletop to her liking because she realigned them. “About what?” she asked, without looking up.

“About anything.”

“No.”

A concerned frown drew Marlix’s heavy brows together. “Are you unwell? Is baby
Arak
causing you discomfort?”

“I am fine. And
Ramon
is fine too,” she answered.

“My son—” Marlix broke off when Tara’s head shot up. “
Our
son,” he amended, “will be not be named Ramon. He shall be called Arak in honor of my sire.”

As angry as he was with Marlix, Urazi sided with him on this one. The half-breed offspring of a Parseon and a Terran faced enough hurdles. To saddle him with a Terran name would exacerbate the ostracism to which he would be subjected.

But Tara refused to see reason, and the naming argument continued. Marlix could have ended the contention by applying his palm to Tara’s backside without adversely affecting Arak, but had not done so. Another example of how much Tara had softened him.

But he remained firm on sending Anika away. Urazi’s gut tightened. Once, Marlix would have discussed the matter with him. These days, only Tara held his counsel. Did she know about Anika? Urazi surveyed her face. Other than the glint of ire over the naming issue, she did not appear upset. Her only other preoccupation this morning had seemed to be with her eating utensils.

Nibor wheeled in a cart laden with food. He set a bowl of ground, creamed
acca
nut before each of them and laid out platters of smoked meats, shredded and fried tubers, and sliced fruits. When he’d been Marlix’s beta, Urazi had done the cooking and household chores. But, during his convalescence, Marlix had hired another to perform those duties. After Urazi had recovered, the male had stayed. And Tara had supplanted him as Marlix’s confidant.

Urazi had failed at everything—had been unable to fight off Qalin’s guards, no longer managed the domicile, could not hold Marlix’s ear any longer.

The Alpha glanced at the food, then at Nibor. “There is no panna?”

“My apologies, Commander, but there is not. I thought we had two loaves remaining, but I erred. I have dough rising, now. I promise there will panna for the midday meal,” Nibor said.

Petty, but Urazi took satisfaction in the cook’s screwup.

Marlix waved him off before gripping the edge of the table. “If a lack of panna is the worst that happens today, we shall be fortunate indeed.”

Nibor made himself scarce, and they began to eat. Tara relished the gruel, judging from the avidness with which she spooned it into her mouth. Although the porridge had been mixed with cream and sweetened by honey, it tasted like sand to Urazi. Marlix appeared to have no appetite either, and, after two mouthfuls, set down his spoon. He sought Urazi’s gaze. “Tara has been privy to my decision, but you should be aware I have negotiated with Commander Ilian for Anika to become his breeder.”

Urazi flinched. Though he’d known, to hear the edict spoken hit him like an angry blow to the chest, provoking an urge to leap across the table and grab Marlix by the throat.

“Anika will produce a fine, strong son for Ilian.” Marlix sounded confident and proud. “His son will be my relation, which will strengthen the alliance between our two provinces.” If Urazi did not know the Alpha as well as he did, he would have sworn Marlix’s smile held a taunt. Urazi clenched his fists under the table.

If he attacked an Alpha, he would be flogged—if he wasn’t killed. Alphas were selected, in part, due to their superior physical structure and strength, further honed and hardened by torturous training. Those who survived the academy emerged as unbeatable warriors. Were he to challenge the Alpha to a
dola
, Urazi would not stand a chance of survival.

“Anika can be willful, but I suspect Ilian shall enjoy
taming
her.” Marlix chuckled. “And once she has conceived, she will settle down.” He tilted his head and stroked his jaw in speculation. “Although considering that she and Jergan had mated, but produced no offspring, I suspect impregnation may require many couplings.”

Urazi squeezed his already-tight fists.

Impassive golden eyes met his across the length of the table. “She will provide a sexual outlet for Ilian’s beta, as well.”

Urazi leaped to his feet. His chair smashed into the wall.

“Commander!” Zoulin, one of Marlix’s alpha guards assigned to the domicile, appeared. “Begging your pardon for the interruption, but Alpha Ilian has requested permission to enter.”

Marlix frowned. “Ilian is here? Did he not receive my communiqué that you would deliver Anika to him?”

Zoulin remained at attention. “I would not know, Commander.”

Marlix shrugged. “By all means, admit him, bring him to the dining chamber, and instruct Nibor to prepare another place.

“As you will.” Zoulin saluted.

“Oh, and Zoulin, rouse Anika and inform her she is to report posthaste.”

“Certainly,” Zoulin said and departed.

Marlix shook his head. “Anika sulks in refusal to admit what is best for her. It is time she comes to terms with it. Once she holds Ilian’s son in her arms, she will be happy.”

“Sometimes, you make me so mad, I could spit,” Tara burst out, but Urazi stood frozen to the stone floor.