Chapter 4
Gemma
“G emma?” came Fran’s soft voice. “They’re ready.”
Turning from the window, I met Fran’s hazel eyes. Her black curls had been wrangled into a tight braid that fell over her shoulder. She was dressed in a deep emerald-green dress that looked beautiful against her warm brown skin.
My friend gave me a wobbly smile as she took in my white dress and my long, straight hair that I’d left unbound. She said, “You look beautiful, Gem.”
I ignored her words. “Has Father met with the Kylorr yet?”
Meaning my soon-to-be husband and his witness, all the way from Krynn itself.
“No, he’s…he’s waiting for you. You’ll go in together, and I’ll be right behind you.”
I nodded and strode forward, the slippers on my feet slapping against the stone. “Let’s get it over with, then.”
Before I lose my nerve, I added silently. Or my breakfast .
Everything had happened so fast. Only three days ago, I had called Mr. Cross with my answer. The very next morning, I’d had an answer from the Kylorr and a contract to sign.
Now I was standing in the atrium of a Nulaxy courthouse. A neutral governing colony, given my father’s ties to the United Alliance and the Kylorrs’ own loyalties to the Uranian Federation.
Only two days ago, I had packed up my entire life into three trunks. Only two days ago, I’d said goodbye to my home, to my planet, to the Collis. Only two days ago, I’d said goodbye to my mother at her grave by the lake.
Only two days ago, I’d said goodbye to my sisters.
We thought it best if they didn’t attend the wedding and instead stayed behind in the Collis. We thought it safer . It was possible the Kylorr could change his mind. That upon seeing my sisters, he could change his preference to one of them. I didn’t want to give him the opportunity.
When we’d said goodbye, Piper had barely looked at me, which had left a tight knot in my throat. Mira’s tears had soaked my shoulder, and I’d had dug half crescents into my palms to keep myself from soaking hers. We’d never been apart since either of them had been born. Not once. Not ever. Not even for a day. Now I didn’t know when—or if —I’d ever see them again.
Fran, the last remaining housekeeper of House Hara and my dearest friend, had come as a witness to Nulaxy in their stead.
“Gemma,” she said, stepping in front of me, blocking my path when I made a beeline for the door that would lead to another door that would lead to him .
Fran’s gentle, warm touch made me freeze. I hadn’t cried. Not once. But I didn’t need to be strong for Fran. She wouldn’t think any less of me, and so when the tears suddenly blurred my vision, I let them.
“Oh, Gem,” Fran murmured, biting her lip. She reached out and pulled me into a hug. “It’s going to be okay.”
More bandages. Temporary ones. I wanted to believe her.
“I-I made arrangements for the new manager to be at the house starting next week. Father will meet with him, but I would appreciate if you could show him the caverns, introduce him to the workers,” I said.
“Gemma,” Fran said, sighing, pulling back. Her hazel eyes darted between my own. She was only a year younger than me, but sometimes she felt more like a mothering figure.
“Promise me,” I pleaded softly.
She nodded hesitantly. “I will. But stop . I know they’re your family and you can’t help worrying. But you’ve done everything you possibly can for them. You’ve given so much. Too much . Let them stand on their own. You need to start looking out for yourself , okay?”
Hadn’t Sorj said something eerily similar?
I swallowed and wiped at my glassy cheeks.
“Don’t pass judgment so quickly either,” Fran said quietly. I flinched. “You don’t know him. Or what he’s like.”
“He used Mr. Cross to broker this marriage,” I pointed out. “And you’ve heard the stories, Fran.”
“That’s all they are. Stories ,” she said, taking my upper arms and squeezing.
Blowing out a sharp breath, I gave her my hesitant nod. “You’re right.”
“Of course I am,” she huffed, cracking a small smile. Then her smile faded. “I’ll miss you, Gem. If I could go with you, I would. You know that.”
“I know.” But it had been in the contract. Only I was allowed to step foot on Krynn. No one else. Not my family. Not my oldest friend. I squeezed her hand. “I’ll—I’ll miss you too, Franny.”
I looked at her, steeling my spine. She gave me a clean cloth to wipe the tears off my cheeks. I took a deep breath, fastening my eyes on the door.
He was near. He was close.
“I’m ready.”
* * *
When the doors opened, I saw wings. Great, terrifying, black wings, folded and tucked against their owner’s broad back, hiding their massive span. I couldn’t see his face, but he filled the room like a violent and sudden storm, making panic rise in my throat.
Father’s hand spasmed against my forearm. I stopped at the threshold of the small, darkened courtroom, my legs freezing beneath the skirts of my white dress. A human wedding tradition. I wished I would’ve worn black. He was dressed in black, after all.
This wasn’t a celebration. This was a transaction.
That thought unlocked my legs, and I began to walk, dragging my father forward, whose grip had tightened considerably on my arm.
Is he having second thoughts? I wondered. Bitterly. Sadly. It doesn’t matter now . I am already sold.
I was House Hara’s sacrificial lamb. Offered up to my new husband, with my neck bared and presented, awaiting the slow death of his bite. I’d heard it was a terrible death…to be drained by a Kylorr.
At our approach, he turned.
Whatever remained of the air in my tight lungs whooshed out as our gazes connected.
Red .
He had red eyes. Since his skin was gray, those eyes resembled burning embers nestled among dark smoke. His pupils were vertical slits, flaring briefly as we regarded one another. Then, strangely, those pupils flitted and narrowed on my father.
His bones were sharp—his cheekbones, his nose, the hard square slash of his jawline. His face was grim and surprisingly regal. Haughty and arrogant even, given his pushed back, broad shoulders and the sudden flaring of his massive wings, the sound like a whisper in the silent room. Black horns jutted above his temples, with a ribbon of spikes spiraling tight around each of them.
Our differences—between a human and a Kylorr—were vast, though not as vast as I’d assumed. His face was long and angular, but he had two eyes, a nose, and a wide mouth with thin lips. His hair was black, like mine, shorn to his shoulders. His ears were pointed, the tips peeking through his hair.
Chills ran down my arms, however, when I spied his fangs. Two of them. Long and sharp, poking into his bottom lip, ivory against his dark gray lips. I imagined them slick with blood. I imagined the flash of them in darkness, accompanied by those terrible, terrible red eyes, and I froze all over again.
My father’s grip tightened on my arm.
“Gem,” he said softly. The hesitation clear in his voice. When I looked over at him, there was a bead of sweat dotting his forehead. Indecision played out over his face.
Whatever he was going to say, however, died in his throat and I heard his hard swallow. There was a flash in his eyes. Guilt . Sorrow. But determination as well, and it made my heart sink.
It was my father who pulled me forward this time to approach the three figures: my new husband, his witness whom I barely noticed, standing in a darkened corner, and the Nulaxian male who was overseeing the brief ceremony.
When I stepped up next to the Kylorr, it was jarring how massive he truly was. He towered over me. Though he didn’t carry the large, intimidating bulk of other alien species—like the Nulaxian male before us —he was finely sculpted like a marble statue, taut but lean enough to surprise me.
He’s a berserker, I reminded myself.
An alien-vampire berserker.
The Kylorr’s battle rages were infamous for a reason. Because their strength could be triggered .
By what? I couldn’t help but wonder. Would he grow in size?
As if I couldn’t help myself, I chanced a peek up at the Kylorr. An heir to the Kaalium. Whatever that meant. But it was obvious he was wealthy. That he came from wealth, had been born into it.
His clothes were finely made—the stitching on the leather precise, not a thread out of place. It was a hardened black leather from the looks of it but appeared supple to the touch. There were tailored cutouts for his wings and large straps across his back which made an X shape, hammered steel shapes pressed into the straps, words—Kylorr words?—stamped into the metal. A dagger was at his hip. The handle looked well worn from use. His pants were made of the same material as his tunic, though there was flexible plating that protected the front of his thighs.
And on his hands… gauntlets . Gunmetal gauntlets that covered the tops of his hands, running up to the middle of his forearm. His knuckles made sharp metal points.
Armor, I thought, my mouth going dry.
He’d come to this wedding like he was preparing for battle.
The Nulaxian male made a warbling sound, like a clearing of his throat, as if he sensed the sudden tension in the courtroom, suffocating and heavy.
My father had stopped behind me with Fran. It was only the Kylorr and me standing before the Nulaxian male, facing him.
“Do you come to this joining of your own free will?” the Nulaxian male asked, peering at me with bright blue eyes.
Of course they would need to ask that. It was a common tradition these days with trafficking ports at every major colony.
I nearly laughed. Instead, my fists squeezed at my sides.
“Yes,” I said, the word sounding strong. Strong enough that I saw the Kylorr turn to peer down at me. Even I could see the frown on his face and the narrowing of his eyes. Did he want me to be frightened? Did he want me to turn on my heel and flee at the sight of him?
Perhaps he did. Perhaps he got off on fear and that was why I was here.
Perhaps he’d heard that human women were submissive. That they were malleable to their master’s needs. Was that what this Kylorr wanted? Sex? A human woman chained to the foot of his bed, to frighten and fuck whenever he pleased? Was that what hundreds of thousands of vron were worth to him?
The Nulaxian male, I noticed, didn’t ask my intended husband the same question.
“Then let us begin,” the clerk said, tapping on his Halo tablet, projecting a contract into the air before us. Words in the universal language were enlarged, the paragraph scrolling slowly. “Do you agree to the terms of marriage laid out before you, Gemma of House Hara, daughter of the Collis?”
My heart was throbbing in my throat. The words were jumbled in my mind, though they were clearly projected before me in blue, non-flickering pixels.
Truly, it didn’t matter. The vron to pay the debts were in holding as of this morning, according to Mr. Cross. They would be released to my father’s debtors the moment the marriage contract was filed. My family could be free of them tonight .
That was enough to draw the word out from between my lips.
“Yes.”
“Then you may sign.”
I took the stylus from the Nulaxian male, silver in color and incredibly worn. I wondered how many females had signed similar contracts in this very courtroom. My signature was a messy scribble.
“Ah,” the Nulaxian male said next, flitting a quick look to the silent male next to me. “One more. For the Kaalium’s archives.”
Much to my confusion, he procured a second contract from behind his podium, though this one was on thick linen parchment. Identical to the first from what I could see, written in the universal language.
Just as I perceived the Kylorr moving next to me, I heard a soft metallic hiss. The flash of the dagger that had been sheathed at his hip shone in the light as he handed it to me, those red eyes pinned on mine. His expression was a glare, and the cold gleam in his gaze was enough to make me wordlessly accept the dagger from him, as if he’d cast me a spell on me.
“Sign with your blood,” came the Nulaxian’s warbling voice.
My breath was sharp and I looked up at the Nulaxian. I was all too aware that the Kylorr’s wings flared again at my reaction. Even the smallest of movement from his wings made a tendril of hair blow across my cheek.
Show no fear, I reminded myself, looking down at the dagger. The blade was clean. Well cared for and wickedly sharp. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of my fear.
I pressed the sharp edge into the pad of my thumb. A bead of red blood rose. Beside me, the Kylorr stiffened as if he could smell the metallic tang.
Hurriedly, I dipped the tip of the stylus into the small bead and used it to sign my name. The scrawl of it was even messier than the first, and I dropped the dagger onto the podium as if burned, the stylus too.
Then I pressed my thumb into my white dress hard, pinching the fabric between my fingers, hoping to stop the flow.
The Nulaxian male turned to my almost-husband, speaking to him directly for the first time since I entered the courtroom.
“And you? Do you agree to the terms of marriage laid out before you, Azur of House Kaalium, son of Thraan, and the High Lord of Laras?”
Azur .
Somehow knowing his name made this even more real than the stinging of my thumb.
Azur of House Kaalium. Son of Thraan. High Lord of Laras .
Who is he? I couldn’t help but think. Who am I marrying ?
Azur said nothing. His answer was the flourish of his signature on the floating contract. I watched the way his gauntlet flexed and moved like a second skin with the movement.
Then he snatched up his dagger.
He dragged the blade across the entirety of his gray palm, and I watched as black blood pooled into the lines of his flesh, like streams of ink.
His blood signature joined mine on the parchment. Black against my red. Only, he signed over mine, our signatures becoming a jumble of grotesque lines. As if he were staking his claim already, an allusion and insinuation of what was to come.
Azur straightened. He turned to aim that cool gaze at me, as if daring me to speak. When I said nothing, he turned his head over his shoulder. This time to look at my father .
With a quick swipe of his long fingers, the Nulaxian made the contract disappear from view. Filed in the universe’s shared database.
It was done.
It had happened so quickly that it felt wrong .
In a mere matter of moments, I’d signed my life away, scribbled down onto a million floating pixels that resembled paper and with my blood. A contract . A promise.
For a marriage ceremony, it had felt cold and impersonal.
And yet…
This Kylorr was my husband now.
“No…” came my father’s voice, surprisingly brittle. For a moment, I thought he was protesting but then he continued with, “No harm will come to her. Do you understand, Kylorr?”
A slick whisper sounded in the room. When I looked down, I saw large blades had extended from the gauntlets, resembling long claws, the shimmering sharpness of them enough to make me pale and balk, stepping back into Fran.
My husband smiled. All his teeth were sharp, but his fangs glinted like his gauntlet’s blades.
I suppressed a shiver, despair and fear rising in my belly, making me want to vomit. So much for not showing him my fear. It shone on my face now like a beacon. And when those red eyes came to me, that smile only widened when he saw it.
“I will do whatever I please with my wife, Rye of House Hara, Lord of the Collis.”
His voice was like an endless fog. Deep and dark, wrapping me up and making me lose my way. Lost .
His wings flared behind him, an unbreachable wall, the dark span of them shocking. His hand clamped over my arm, tugging me toward him, away from Fran, away from my father. The hot smear of his blood was like a brand on my flesh, the strength of his grip evident.
“She is mine now.”