Kept by the Zandian (Zandian Brides 5)

Marshan leans forward. “My life is in your hands.” He raises his. “Please spare me.”

“What do we know about Wark?” We turn to each other, unsure of what to do.

“We know nothing of them. Just that they are a race rumored to live far away, a neutral race so far, but one who despise slavery and those who engage in it. Supposed to be geniuses. If they are real.”

“We are real.” Marshan smiles, faintly. “I can promise you that.” He touches his face. “And slavery is something we despise, as we believe in freedom for all beings.”

“We need Zander’s advice. Call him on the comm.”

But we cannot reach our king. He is too far and the solar flares are blocking transmissions home. “We must make this decision ourselves.” I look at Domm. “And now.”

Domm looks at me. “You trust her? Because I trust you.”

I nod. “I do.” I look at Taisha and give her a smile. “Implicitly.”

Domm glances around our grouping: At me, at the others, at Taisha. His gaze locks on Mirelle, who is not just his team member, but his mate. His love. The one he’s bonded to. I can only imagine the confusion going through his brain right now, as he must make a decision that involves the safety of not just us on this craft, but all of Zandia, now and in the future.

I’ve told him what I can. I nod, to give him encouragement.

He takes a deep breath. He looks at Marshan. He raises a fist with his arm bent at the elbow in the formal Zandian greeting. “We will give you safe passage. Swear you are our ally now and in the future.”

Marshan raises his fist in the same gesture. “I swear it.”

“Let’s get off this star-forsaken planet, then.” Domm gestures toward the hatch.

I take the Wark by the shoulder and escort him in.

“Now we must leave this airspace immediately.” Tarak’s voice is urgent. He acknowledges our new passenger with a vague nod. “We cannot afford to be seen.”

“Do it. Now,” I say.

The ship hangs and then lurches and my body gets the feeling of collapsing into a black hole and expanding into a column of light at the same time. A split second we’re millions of light years away.

When we’re safely away from Romon-3, Domm looks at me. “It seems we have a new ally against Ocretia.”

“Yes.” I look over at Taisha, strapped in her seat beside Marshan, engaging him in conversation.

Domm’s eyes look deep and tired, and I can tell he’s thinking about what he will tell our king—this odd and extraordinary turn of events.

But I know we did the right thing. I can see it on Taisha’s face, when she she looks across the ship at me.

She trusts in this intuition of her soothsayer, Leylah. Possesses a human intuition of her own, much like our queen. Whatever skills lurk in her frail human body, make her miraculous. It strikes me all at once what a genius King Zander is. How did he first sense that humans could bring Zandia such gifts? That by partnering with their species, we could achieve so much more than we could alone?

I feel such a rush of emotions that I list, dizzy for a moment. What I did back there—vouching for her without any data, was unlike any other action in my life. So unjudicial. But I know it was completely right. And tonight I will make Taisha understand just how much she means to me.

Chapter 16

Taisha

“Until we distill the venom from the serpent and break down its chemical makeup, we have only enough serum for one more try,” Bayla tells me in the lab the next planet rotation.

I understand that the chemical composition breakdown could take weeks, even lunar cycles.

“It would be nice if we could figure it out sooner..”

“Why isn’t it working? We have all the right toxins and the wall-eck fruit. I don’t understand.” My voice rises in frustration. No sooner had we arrived back on Zandia with Marshan, a new delegation formed to get him safely back to the Wark, and establish a diplomatic alliance with them. And I jumped immediately into work at the lab, using the venom and fruit from Romon-3 to try and duplicate Leylah’s creations. “I hoped we could do it right away. On the first try. Like she did.”

I look around the lab, which has become a second home. I’m familiar now with the microscopes and extraction vials, so much more refined than anything Leylah used. Still, we have been unable to replicate her formula. All this technology can’t imitate what she did in front of that flickering fire, with rude tools.