I feel like I’m spewing a fountain of compliments, but it can’t hurt me to offer appreciation for what they’ve built. After all, it is stunning. And as a person who needs to demonstrate a willingness to fit in here, effusive praise seems a good place to start.
“Our world here is a mix.” Lanz opens a recessed cabinet and brings out a fluid tube and a packet of food, puts them on a low table. “In some ways we’re advanced beyond other societies. And then we have places where our skills are rudimentary at best, as we work to recover our world and learning from the decimation caused by the Finn. This is for you.” He gestures to the offerings.
I nod. “I understand that dichotomy. Back home—” I stop myself, not wanting to reveal too much about Jesel.
“Tell me about your home.” Lanz sits down carefully.
I swallow. “I don’t know.”
“Or you don’t want to tell us?” Domm picks up a section of my hair and rubs it between his thumb and forefinger. These warriors see far too much.
“Do I have to tell you everything about myself? And if I don’t, will you torture it out of me?” I lift my brows, daring them to.
“Mirelle, no being is going to torture you.” Domm sits across the room. “We would like to learn about you as we build our bond. Rehabilitate you.”
Rehabilitate. That’s quite a concept.
I take a breath. “Am I a prisoner here?” I look to the door.
“You don't have to wear cuffs inside.” Lanz follows my gaze. “If you behave appropriately. But you will not be allowed out, unescorted, uncuffed, until we determine you are not a threat to Zandian society.”
My whole body fills with rage. Then I temper it with logic. I am incredibly lucky to find this as my prison, instead of a stinking hole in an Ocretion ship or a fetid galactic prison. There are millions of opportunities here for me to seize so I can escape. It truly is only a matter of patience and time.
It’s odd to think of them as jailers, masters, mates, all at the same time. My mind swims. “How can we be mates if you don’t even trust me?”
“We will build trust.” Domm nods. “Over time, as you get used to life here, we will assess when you are ready for more freedom.”
“I see.”
My stomach rumbles but I don’t want to eat anything. I rub my shoulder, which seems to be nearly healed. Remarkable. Strange, almost disturbing, because humans just don’t heal like that normally—but I’m not going to complain.
“Are you in pain?” Domm frowns and steps forward.
I shake my head. “No. I’m surprised it healed so fast, really.”
Lanz smiles. “It was our blood.” His face flushes a deeper purple. “I think it helped you more than you know.”
“Right. I have your blood inside me, don’t I?” I’m fascinated by this concept. I touch my arm, run my fingers over my pale skin. Trying to imagine the blood inside.
Lanz nods. “It means you’re ours.”
I roll my eyes. “That’s an interesting conclusion.” Then I smile to myself. The fact that I can even joke with him? That means he’s far less of a slave-owner and more of a friend.
I remember when I first saw Lanz, how taken I was; how something about him called to my heart, even if he was technically my enemy—at that time. I do feel some deep bond with these Zandians, despite everything.
I make a little noise of uncertainty, because my mind is in turmoil.
“Right now, you need nutrition. So, please.” Lanz gestures to the stuff on the table. “This is just to start. We will obtain more human sustenance from our farmers and food providers. You will tell us what you like.”
“What I’d like is to go back to my home. Will you give that to me?”
“This is your home now. And acco
rding to you, you want to be here.” Domm calls me on my lie. He walks over and comes up and takes my chin in his hand. Tilts it up to look into my eyes.
I want to jerk away, but his gaze is mesmerizing. I watch his eyes change from brown to purple, the horns thicken and tilt toward me. Heat smolders in his gaze and my body instantly reacts, nipples tightening.
“Lanz, what do you think?” Domm’s voice sounds husky. “Does she need a reminder of exactly who’s in charge here. And who is not?”