Series: Zandian Brides Series by Renee Rose
Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
“Yes, all of the humans were still alive. And you’re with me now. I swear no being will ever hurt you again.” He growls it then touches my arm. Pulls his hand back like he shouldn't be touching me although I don’t mind. His hand is warm, and I crave his touch. More than anything, I want him to hold me. Although that’s a strange thought. I’ve never desired to be touched by another species before–especially not a male.
The other Zandian frowns. “Be careful. They can’t be trusted.”
“She’s injured,” Daven growls.
“And you’re too trusting of human females. Remember what happened last time you chose a mate,” he reminds Daven, sending me a cold look before looking away.
For some reason, I hate the idea that Daven has had a mate.
Daven frowns but doesn’t answer. He turns back to me.
I take a breath. Everything hurts, and I whimper.
“What happened to you?” Daven leans down, touches my face, then pulls his hand back when I wince. “Why were you tied up there?”
“They were going to trade us,” I remember aloud. “But they discovered we’re not pleasure slaves, so they were beating me. Trying to find out how the mistake happened. I think they were going to kill me. But then I told them–I’m…” I trail off. “I know about…” Something in my head whirs, and there’s a terrible pain.
This time, memories are there, but I cannot divulge them. It’s been hammered into me since I became an Experimental: Those who talk about the work of Alpha 2 die. I’ve seen it firsthand.
“About what?” urges the closer Zandian. “You know about what?” The two of them flash a look at each other then focus on me. “This is important.”
“About Al-” I want to tell them, but my whole body rebels. Images of the punishments, the tests, come flooding back. The work itself, what it’s planned for, my friends, back on the original planet, still enslaved, doing the work. I stammer out, “The other slaves” just because the Zandians are staring at me, and I need to say something.
“The other slaves?” Daven frowns. “What about them? Tell us.” His voice is commanding, but it doesn’t scare me. He doesn’t sound cruel, more like a being who is accustomed to leading.
My head starts to ache, and images flash rapid-fire through my mind. The thoughts break apart again. “I can’t think.” The floor tilts, and I’m falling to the side...or things are rolling around inside my skull. That’s it, isn’t it? Something inside my skull? A thought emerges, but I can’t quite follow the trail. “There’s something wrong with my brain.” I attempt to slow myself down. The more I chase the thought, the more my body responds with panic.
“Veck, the head injury. We need to stabilize her, so Dr. Daneth can help.”
Sounds and images become one big amalgamation of sensation. I gasp as I fall into a void. “Help!” I cry. “I’m falling!”
“She’s crashing. Better put her under until we arrive.”
There’s a prick as a needle slides into my arm and then--oblivion.
Planet: Zandia
Daven
I didn’t want to leave my little human, not even with Dr. Daneth, the galaxy’s best scientist. But, of course, I had to.
Now we’re in the war room with the King and his council to report. A giant oval table hovers in the center of the room, and the king’s advisors sit around it. Axe and I stand to report.
“Play it again.” Our master-at-arms and my commander, Seke, leans forward, face intent.
“Of course.” I tap the holo device and glance at the Zandians seated around the table in the royal meeting quarters: Master Seke, my second-in-command, Axe, and none other than King Zander himself. The king’s face holds concern. The rumors and chatter about a new and more powerful Ocretian attack have been escalating.
On the device, grainy figures move on the screen. It’s the recording I made of the Ocretions and the Karran back on the forlorn planet where we found the humans.
“Going to need…” the audio cuts out “at least 1,000 linear hects of the compound.” The Oc in charge crosses his stubby arms and looks at the K sitting beside him. “If that goes well, we may have another, more lucrative task for you.”
“And just a start. We’ll also want you to run a …” the sound quality fizzles out.
“Forgive me, my lord.” I fiddle with the controls, trying to get better audio. “No matter how we enhance, I can’t understand what he said.”
The king holds up a finger. The holo continues.
“And as for the price?” The Karran looks at his companion. “You agree?”
“The stein is not a problem.” The Ocretion waves his warted hand. “But the pleasure slaves we will deliver another time. The batch we brought was…” he wrinkles his nose. “Substandard.”
I’m satisfied to hear this tracks with what the little human told me. A slave mix-up happened, and she and her friends were left to die.