Chapter 7
Jolie
I jostled, as though an unseen hand had shaken me from sleep’s embrace.
My eyes fluttered open to sleek metallic walls bathed in a sophisticated gray and cream color scheme.
It was a stark contrast to the garish crimson silks and golden tassels that had decorated my quarters in Qurbaga’s harem.
I’d slept so deeply that it took several moments for my mind to claw its way back to focus.
Yet when clarity finally struck, it hit with blinding intensity.
I shot upright, gasping, the sound tearing from my throat.
Lilibet!
The bed stretched empty beside me; the chill of the sheets sent dread curling deep in my chest. For one heart-stopping, agonizing beat, raw panic clawed at me.
Then, abruptly, relief came with the sound of Lilibet’s laughter floating through the air from beyond the doorway.
A deep, rumbling male chuckle joined in her amusement. She was safe and happy... with Diarvet.
The realization that I trusted him with her hit me like a physical blow.
I’d never—never—truly trusted anyone with Lilibet’s wellbeing.
Even Binwee, who had earned more of my confidence than most beings, received only a wary kind of trust when it came to my precious little girl.
Some part of me believed that no one in the universe could possibly understand what Lilibet meant to me.
That no one else would guard not only her body but her heart with the devotion she deserved.
Except Diarvet.
Somehow, impossibly, he seemed to understand.
A sense of calm settled over me as I remembered the way Lilibet responded to him with such blind, innocent trust, and affection.
Had it been anyone else, I would have scrambled from the bed in a frenzy to find her.
Instead, I laid back against the pillows, enjoying the moment of simply being able to relax.
The realization that the ship’s engines had fallen silent finally drew me to my feet. I glanced down at the tunic and pants I wore. The fabric remained wrinkle-free despite having been slept in. Alien fabric—one of the few things I genuinely appreciated after being abducted.
Barefoot, I padded to the bathroom, the cleansing unit humming to life as I approached.
I washed away the lingering fog of sleep and brushed my teeth.
Alien toothbrushes were long and cylindrical with fibers tasting of mint, so toothpaste wasn’t needed.
I ran the strange, fork-like apparatus—an alien comb—through my tangled hair, working out the knots one by one.
For a moment, I considered braiding my tresses.
My hair, though, possessed a frustratingly stubborn texture—wavy but not quite curly, and resisted every attempt at taming with ornery determination.
When I finally stepped from the sleeping chambers, the first thing that caught my attention was the small galley area, specifically the cheerful chaos atop the compact dining table.
Two plates bore the remains of a thoroughly demolished meal—something that looked suspiciously like pancakes.
The sight made my heart squeeze. I’d taught Binwee to recreate the dish as close to an Earth version as alien ingredients would allow, and it had quickly become Lilibet’s absolute favorite breakfast.
As if summoned by my thoughts, a cascade of giggles drifted through the ship like wind chimes in a gentle breeze.
The scene that greeted me made my heart swell.
Lilibet perched in Diarvet’s lap, her small face scrunched in concentration as her tiny hands danced across the control panel with the focused intensity of Luke Skywalker preparing his assault on the Death Star.
Her dark pink curls caught the light while his massive frame curved protectively around her, sending an unknown but undeniable flutter through my chest.
“MeMe!” Lilibet’s voice rang out like a bell, her emerald eyes sparkling with excitement as she spotted me in the doorway. “We landed, and I helped! I pushed all the right buttons!”
“Really?” I infused my voice with amazement, arching a skeptical eyebrow in Diarvet’s direction, fighting back a smile.
“Lilibet was absolutely instrumental in bringing us safely to ground,” Diarvet confirmed with the utmost gravity, his deep voice carrying not even a hint of condescension.
“So we’re on Zarpazia?” I asked, stepping closer to peer through the viewport where dawn was just beginning to chase away the night, though darkness still obscured our surroundings.
“Not quite,” Diarvet admitted, something unreadable flickering across his features.
He slipped his large hands around Lilibet’s tiny waist, gently lifting her from his lap as he rose.
He settled her into the pilot’s seat, where she looked impossibly small in the oversized chair, before handing her the teddy bear that had watched the proceedings from a perch nearby.
“Princess, can you stay here and make sure our landing stays secure?” The question was utterly unnecessary from a practical standpoint, but he delivered it with such earnestness that Lilibet’s entire face lit with pride.
Her chubby little hand snapped up in a crisp salute that would have made any military officer proud, her green eyes shining.
Diarvet gestured for me to follow him back toward the galley. He began clearing the remnants of the breakfast feast from the table while I settled into one of the chairs, watching him.
“So we’re not on Zarpazia?” The question emerged, and to my surprise, I felt no flutter of fear. My earlier wariness had subsided, replaced now by curiosity.
“No,” Diarvet’s responded as he deposited the breakfast dishes into the recycler.
He turned to face me, his hip settling against the counter while his muscular arms folded across his chest. Gone was the formal uniform, replaced by form-fitting trousers and a supple leather vest that only emphasized the raw strength beneath his scaled skin.
“We are on a planet my queen calls Eden.”
“Like your ship?” The connection sparked immediate interest.
“She named the ship in honor of the planet. This place holds special significance for her. It’s where our king Vraxxan brought her when they were hiding from the queen.” His voice carried a reverent undertone, as if speaking of something sacred.
“Hiding from the queen?” This time, skepticism crept into my tone, my eyebrows arching with curiosity. “Were they having an affair?”
Diarvet’s head tilted back as rich, rolling laughter erupted from his throat, a sound so deep and resonant it seemed to shiver across my skin.
“Hardly. The former queen was Vraxxan’s mother.
” An involuntary shudder rippled through his powerful frame.
“A hateful, cruel female who had exiled Vraxxan’s father, King Vysar, to this very planet many years before.
” His posture relaxed marginally, though shadows of old pain flickered in his dark eyes.
“What do you know about the Zarpazian people?”
“Not much,” I admitted with a helpless shrug. “Qurbaga kept the harem completely isolated from the outside universe.” Other than to dole us out to others as party favors occasionally, but I didn’t mention that.
Diarvet nodded, his expression twisting with unmistakable distaste.
“For far too long, the universe feared the Zarpazian people. Some of us possess a gift—the ability to shift the color of our scales.” As if summoned by his words, the scales along his left shoulder rippled and transformed, shifting from the natural, vibrant blue, gold, and fuchsia to obsidian, just as they had when confronting the Wojonik.
“A Zarpazian who can shift all the scales on their body to black possesses increased strength and the ability to shift into other beings. Once, my people considered this ability a sacred gift, given only by the gods, but the queen perverted that blessing. She and others learned to shift their scales through sheer force of will, twisting what should have been precious into something dark. The queen’s younger son, Vreses, possessed this power and wielded it for evil. ”
“Vreses,” I whispered the name, the syllables feeling strangely familiar on my tongue. Somewhere in the recesses of my memory, I’d heard Qurbaga utter that name before, though I couldn’t recall when or why.
“Vreses took part in a plot to assassinate Duke Ako, but a human female stopped the scheme and killed him. Initially, the queen placed a bounty on the female’s head, but the Alliance Prime intervened.
Instead, the queen devised a more twisted plan.
She intended to abduct an innocent human female to torture and kill in sacrificial vengeance.
” His voice dropped to a darker register.
This time, it was my turn to shudder.
“Vraxxan rescued the female and brought her here for safekeeping,” Diarvet continued, his tone softening.
“And I assume, since Vraxxan now wears the crown, that the evil queen met her end?” I asked, though already knowing the answer.
A complex array of emotions flickered across Diarvet’s handsome features—relief warring with something much darker and more troubling. “Killed by the very human she intended to sacrifice.”
“Don’t mess with us human girls,” I quipped, desperate to chase away the shadows that had settled over his expression. Thankfully, my attempt at levity worked, and his face brightened with a smile.
“Obviously.”
“So, can you shift your scales to all black?” I asked, watching with fascination as the obsidian scales on his shoulder rippled back to their natural, vibrant hue.
“No,” he admitted with a rueful smile that held just a hint of regret. “And now that Vraxxan rules as king, he has outlawed the practice of shifting scales through will alone.”
“And we will be safe here?” I pressed, though I knew deep down that Diarvet wouldn’t have brought us here if we weren’t.