Lycan Alpha Claim 3 (115 page)

What if there was no more Charles?

She shoved that thought out of her mind and concentrated on the present.

Forcing herself to still in the strong arms of Bracus, who had held her gently while they rode upon his horse, and now imprisoned her with his embrace, she said, “I will listen.”

Bracus set her down, warily watching for another escape.

Clara thought that, with the
guard
lay in wait outside, she would not test
any
boundary with him. She needed to tell Bracus and Bowen that he had visited the sphere before. She felt strongly that they were unaware of his dalliance. She had sensed much from him, all of it unknown.

She righted the chair as she sat, folding her arms beneath her breasts.

Bracus noticed her posture and was not fooled. Her eyes flashed fire, and she stared at them like enemies.

She would try to escape again.

Unfortunately, she was not understanding their true intent. If only she would listen. Bracus began to see that beneath all the fragility, lay a woman of fortitude.

President Bowen began again. “It is not as it seems. For many decades, our clan,” he stretched his hand to include the immediate area, “and many of our sister clans did not have enough females to grow in number. For every fifteen males born, only one female comes,” he said in a helpless voice.

“We think that the Evil Ones may have made our ancestral pool too limited. And now, as our grandfather's grandfathers lay in this earth, we are desperate to mingle with different peoples.”

Clara thought on it. She was not sure they were even the same species. When she looked at the Band, she felt they were clearly
other.

She mentioned that. And what of the Evil Ones? Who were they to these people?

Bracus answered. “The Evil Ones created us, the Band.” He gestured to his throat slits and his extreme size.

“You are genetically engineered?” Clara guessed.

The president raised an eyebrow in surprise.

Clara nodded. “We have a Healer in the sphere who knows a great deal of Science, and she has developed many speculations...”

“It is our supposition that the Evil Ones postulated about our life and what the challenges would be and gave us a select few,” he gestured to Bracus, “for each clan that could be protectors. But as you can see, with the female population dwindling, there may be, in less than a generation, little to protect.”

“That is what happens when you play God.”

Clara blinked at the expression, looking at Bracus. “I will ask again. Who are the Evil Ones?”

Bracus's eyes widened in surprise. “They are responsible for everything here.” He gestured vaguely around himself. “Even before the days when the Earth was Covered by Ash.”

Clara's breath stopped in her throat. “Do you mean, the Guardians?”

They stared blankly at her, and she continued in their silence. “They are who
saved
us
. They and only they are solely responsible for our spheres.”

She looked from one to the other. The uncomprehending expressions on their faces told all.

They did not know the history.

She thought suddenly of the book, carefully maintained for over a hundred years, that told of the inception of the spheres and, more importantly
,
why they had been built.

“My grandfather's grand-sire devised a book, a history if you will, that tells of what our people were
before
. There was a time when we all were one people across this great land in huge cities.” She paused for a moment. “Then the rocks fell from the sky and damaged our planet. But the Guardians were able to save us in nineteen different spheres. And there we have lived since that time, one hundred and forty years.” She folded her hands in her lap.

President Bowen's shock was evident. “They are your saviors,” he said slowly, “but they are our nemeses.” He stroked the stubble at the bottom of his chin.

“I have questions of a technological nature as well.”

Clara nodded for him to continue.
Let them ask.
“We think that somehow you use steam in the sphere to manufacture and live day by day?”

“Everything is powered by steam. Our lights, timepieces, cooking apparatus, everything.”

“What of the climate?” Bracus thought of a home without the sun on one's back and no rain for the streams.

Clara shook her head. “I am not privy to all details, but when it rains on the Outside, our sphere allows a fine mist to permeate its surface and plants and other organic
matter
is fed such. Also, the sun’s rays do gather and permeate, but not powerfully enough to darken the skin.”

She held out her slender arm, the color of polished ivory. Bracus's heavy gaze lingered upon it as she let it drop back on her lap.

“What of insurgence and weapons?” Bracus asked, and President Bowen nodded.

“We have had battles amongst the spheres. Guards train with sword and dagger for protection.” Clara hesitated. Did she say too much? Was she giving away information that would showcase the sphere's vulnerabilities?

“Who is that man who attacked you?” Bracus demanded, and his tone gave Clara pause.

The president gave Bracus a look of inquiry.

“He is Prince Frederic.” She looked down at her hands, tightly clasped in her lap. “We are to be wed.”

The long silence had a pregnant feel to it.

Finally, Bracus spoke. “You cannot mean to be mated with the man who attacked you?” He stood, towering over her, so she stood as well.

There was a physical potential to him that frightened Clara, but not in the same way as the Prince. Rather, she felt it directed at others. “I have no choice. I am royal
.
My mother, the Queen, has betrothed me to him to align our kingdoms as one and to facilitate trade.”

Bracus glared down at Clara, aching to touch her. He was not like this around the few women of his clan. He thought back to the genetic predisposition of certain females held for members of the Band and thought she was such a female. Clara made him feel fiercely protective, and he longed to be near her. It made him edgy and angry. He realized he was not angry at her. He was her prisoner to a degree he was uncomfortable with.

Bracus allowed his gaze to soften. “He has hurt you.” Bracus reached out, putting the lightest of touches against her cheekbone. It was no longer a horrible grape color, but fading to yellow.

Those hands that had maimed and killed so many of the
fragment
pressed tenderly against her face.

The President cleared his throat, and Bracus took his hand away. “Princess—
Clara
—we have acquired you but briefly. It was my utmost desire that we may begin negotiations for an acquaintance between our peoples. After the Band surveyed the sphere for some time, you were chosen as the most likely person to assist in this...” He trailed off in a hopeful way.

Clara realized she had misunderstood their intent. They hoped that they could intermingle with eventual cohabitation as their goal. But they did not understand the Queen. She would never allow it.

“I am not supreme ruler of our sphere. It is Queen Ada who would have the final say.” She paused, trying to formulate words that would make sense, give nothing away, and dissuade them from approaching the sphere. “The people of my sphere think that you are a... primitive people and decidedly violent.”

She looked from one to the other, seeing mild offense in both faces. She rushed to assuage their tempers. “Not all, but most. As humans, we are most afraid of that which we do not know.” She looked at Bracus. “And your rescue of me will be looked at as confirmation of these speculations.”

“What of your companion?” Bracus asked.

“Charles?”

He shrugged. “The one who dispatched two guards before we came upon you.”

Tears stung Clara's eyes and she thought of her childhood friend, confidant, protector.

Bracus saw her struggle with her emotions and wished to know what place this Charles
held in her life.

“He is my very best friend and has helped me with...”
the beatings the Queen has rendered
, “difficult situations.”

Bracus's eyes narrowed. He knew there was much she was not saying, and he was determined to find out what it was but not now with the President's hawk-like eyes as audience.

Jack came in. “Where is Lillian?” he asked, a trifle anxious, which put Clara on guard. Was something afoot?

Bracus saw the tightening of her eyes and posture. “Lillian is with child and sometimes does not feel well.”
That was an understatement
, Bracus thought.

Clara relaxed. She knew that was typical for women during the first part of their time with child. Earlier, Lillian had seemed so energetic.

Jack said, “It comes on quickly. She may be lying down now. I will check on her.” He nodded to Bracus then Bowen. “President.”

Bracus saw Clara's exhaustion and composure fraying around the edges and said quietly to the President, “Clara may need some time to acclimate to her new circumstances.”

The President nodded. It would be a tremendous change, coupled with the attacks she had suffered. His gaze fell upon Clara, and he looked at her, really looked at her. She appeared as though she was sleeping while standing, her small figure held together by force of will alone.

“Yes, I will be here one fore-night more and then take my leave to the central clan.” He looked at Bracus. “We will speak more on this one day hence.”

Turning his attention to Clara, he said, “I felt it imperative that we discuss our intentions so you would not feel unsafe here or misconstrue our intent.”

The guard floated up in her mind.
Him
, she did not feel safe around. She opened her mouth to say something, but
he
entered the cottage. “Captain, they are ready to depart.”

Bracus nodded. “Very well.” He looked at Clara. “We will be gone a fore-night, no more.” As he gazed at her, he hoped she might be able to discern how little he wished to leave her, even in the competent care of his Band mates. “We have three of the Band here, and you will not want for protection.”

Clara nodded. She would say nothing with the guard standing there looking upon her with those steady eyes, intense eyes.

The guard thought the Princess might understand more than he liked and did not desire to give her unnecessary time alone with Bracus and President Bowen. He would take her tonight. It was the perfect opportunity. He was assigned duty to she and Lillian at the bathing springs. He would take her, and she would be his to return to the sphere. He smiled as he thought on his plan.

Clara saw the smile slowly reveal itself upon the
guard’s
face
and thought that it would behoove her to never be alone with him. She maintained an uneasy silence.

Bracus sensed her disquiet and could not ascertain its origin. He looked at his Band members and saw nothing amiss, but her eyes remained troubled. He did not wish to leave her. Yet he must get to Evelyn.

He turned away, giving Clara a curt nod. With the President ahead of them, he walked outside and spoke quietly with Matthew, Stephen, and Jack. “She may try to escape. But President Bowen has told her enough that she feels confident that our intentions are for the good of both our peoples.” Bracus rolled his shoulders in a shrug.

Jack said, “Joseph will remain behind and either Stephen or Matthew will accompany the women to the bathing springs.”

Matthew looked at Jack.

“If Lillian is well enough to go,” Jack clarified.

“It matters not. Women like to primp and preen,” Stephen said.

“Watch your tongue before I cut it out. Lillian does none of that. I think it is but an excuse to wheedle information out of the Princess.” Jack glowered at Stephen.

“There is much to be learned of the
sphere-dwellers.
That is true,” Bracus said.

“Another female may coax information,” Matthew agreed.

President Bowen reminded them all, “She is to be kept under close supervision. I wish to make haste with a treaty of sorts, and that cannot be done if harm befalls her or she escapes and is picked up by the
fragment.”

Bracus would never let that happen
.

Out loud he said, “Let us make haste to rescue Evelyn.”

“See that you do.” And with that, Bowen walked off with a member from the central clan's Band.

Bracus turned around and looked at the cottage, his gaze lingering. He desperately wished to see Clara one more time before his departure. No matter. There would be plenty of time upon his return to sort out his feelings and deepen their acquaintance. He knew he did not wish for Clara to return to the sphere.

Ever.

And as he stood there, she appeared in the window, her form warped from the glass's imperfections. She gave a small wave, and Bracus's heart became lighter. After all that she had been through, she bid him farewell.