Heir Of Violence (#1 Betrayed Destinies) - ONC2024

Chapter 7 - Prince Not Charming

As the door swished shut, Caeryssa coughed and sucked in ragged gasps of blessed air. She'd been sure he was going to kill her, just snap her neck or let her suffocate. With her pulse thundering in her ears, she cowered in the corner of the bed and wall. Gasps turned to sobs, tears overflowing.

So close... she'd been so close to dying, with her vision darkening and heart pounding desperately in her chest. Her fingertips grazed her throat, and she whimpered—even that light touch hurt the bruised, swollen flesh. There'd been nothing she could do, no way to pry off his vice-like grip.

Two loud thumps on the wall beside the door had a squeak escaping her as she flinched and stuffed a fist in her mouth to muffle her sobs. She didn't want to do anything to draw that monster's attention.

That helpless feeling of dangling, choking, being unable to breathe... thorns, it was worse than anything she'd ever experienced. She'd been in confrontations before—differences of option between scientists or fights on long voyages when crewmate relations broke down—but the violence had never been aimed at her. Other than the self-defence training her father had insisted on and she wished she'd continued to practice, no one had ever struck or manhandled her. To be tossed on his shoulder like a sack of grain and then choked as if her life had no value?

Caeryssa shuddered, recalling the molten fury in those golden eyes. It was everything she'd feared—a soulmate who hated her and didn't care if he caused her pain. At least he couldn't sell her into slavery if that's why he'd taken her. Not without suffering separation agony himself.

It might be worth it if she could hurt him back.

Her sobs hiccuped into a pathetic laugh and she winced. Shriveled roots, it was probably the only way she could hurt him. At twice her mass and arms long enough to hold her completely at bay, what chance did she have to fight him off? That honed, muscular body hadn't been for show. Too bad it belonged to an entirely loathsome root-rotted thorn berry.

How would her father save her now? Even if he killed the toad-sucking prince and she survived both the rescue and the bond-shattering, she'd never be free of the pain. It was why most soulmates died when their partner did—either from the traumatic energy drain as the dying mate sucked lifeforce to attempt to live or from the agony of the severed bond.

And if she was rescued with the prince still alive, how far apart could soulmates be without suffering? Mom always travelled with Dad when he made a shipping run, and except for brief stays on Alcyone in the home Mom inherited a few cycles ago when Granny passed on after losing her battle with that damned wasting disease Caeryssa couldn't seem to find a cure for, they pretty much lived on that rundown cargo freighter. Shards, Caeryssa had spent most of her early childhood on the Basilisk, flying around the galaxy.

She shivered, clutching the edges of the torn shipsuit. Blinking the tears away, she examined the zipper, but even her swollen, blurry eyes saw the twisted metal teeth. That overgrown pernicious swiny had destroyed it. No way would she be able to fix the zipper or draw the fitted garment closed.

Her trembles worsened and she rubbed her arms. Without the shipsuit's thermal fabric retaining her body heat, her skin had chilled in the cold cabin. Reaching up, she snagged the edge of the bedding, pulling the thin, grey blanket down to cover herself and tuck it between her and the cold metal wall. Despite its bland appearance, it was soft against her skin and didn't have the usual stiffness found in spaceship thermal linens.

A slight vibration in the wall and floor had her cursing. Was he taking her off-planet?

She still didn't know why he'd kidnapped her.

He didn't seem to care about her xenobotany skills, but that was all she had to offer. She was just a scientist, not a person in power. Would a prince need currency? Was he ransoming her back to AIMAED? Not that she could continue her work now... not unless he was willing to sign onto the same expedition crews as she.

"As if," she muttered, thumping her head back against the unyielding wall. If this ship was anything to judge by, he was clearly used to the finer things in life and expeditions were basic. Everything in the cabin was the same impersonal grey, from the walls, floor, ceiling, bedding, the built-in drawers and closet, and even what she could see of a private bathroom through the open door—a shocking luxury when space was always at a premium on spacecraft. The table and chair were spotless. Two screens, a large one on the wall above the bed and another smaller one on the wall between the closet and the bathroom door, were both black.

Yet, there wasn't a single personal item in sight.

Not only did no one appear to use the generic but posh cabin, but it was easily twice the size of any she'd ever travelled in, even after her promotion to lead scientist. Between the protection detail she'd seen, the prince, and his friend, there had to be at least twelve people onboard, aside from her. Probably more with a flight and engineering crew. How big was the ship if they had cabins to spare?

Damn it. What could he possibly want with her?

Her eyes closed against the throbbing in her temples, a match to the swelling in her throat. Part of her wanted to be upset about her career, but blasted berries, it was just too much to deal with, too overwhelming when she wasn't even sure she'd survive to get to wherever he was taking her.

A little hysterical giggle ended in a sob as she burrowed further into the blanket. Death by soulmate. Not how she'd expected to go. 

(997 words)