Point of Intersection Ch. 02

The woman looked up at the alien she'd seen earlier, the one they'd called her "mate." That wasn't a word she knew, but something about the word's sound, and the way the alien looked at her, made her feel warm and safe, like the soft fur of her parent's dog, Anuit, when she'd been little. Even Daddy had hesitated to hit her when she was next to Anuit.

The alien was tall, much taller than any Grey she'd seen, and covered in emerald scales. His hands were tipped with carefully trimmed claws, and his teeth were sharp. He had a snout, but it was short, with two slits for the nostrils. His eyes were yellow shot with orange, and had slitted pupils. A line of spikes, also emerald green, started between his eyes and continued, slowly getting larger, out of sight. All in all, he looked a bit like a large headed bipedal iguana.

An iguana in fancy clothing, she noted, looking at his shirt, which was fuzzy, blue, and loose fitting around the hands. Silvery lace lined his collar and wrists, and his fingers were decorated with several silver rings. A rich man. A rich man who looked at her like she was his only lifeline in a stormy sea.

Gentle fingers trailed down her cheek, and the rich alien spoke. "Can I take her now? She needs food, and medical care, and clothing, and for someone to remove that damned collar."

Feeling slightly dazed, the woman heard the remaining conversation as if it had nothing to do with her. It was hard to even pay attention.

The paler of the bird doctors sighed. "She's still officially a dangerous animal. Unless your man can call in more favors, the collar stays for now, and she will be auctioned off with a collection of stolen property later today."

The iguana alien bared his teeth. "She is my mate. I will not allow her to be treated like property!"

The bird doctor sighed. "Think about this logically, my prince."

That pierced the fog. The woman blinked. Prince?

"For years, it's been taken as a granted that your sister, an alpha, will take the throne,"

the bird doctor said. "Leaders both within and without your empire have prepared their powerbases for her rule, making alliances, and preparing laws to suit a galaxy in which she rules as the head of the Basilisk empire."

"And?" the prince snapped. "She's welcome to the throne. I wouldn't want it even if I could inherit."

The bird doctor let out a nervous low whistle. "The thing is, my prince, the thing is, you're not just an omega anymore. You're the mate of an alpha, and, with her by your side, you have every right to the throne." He whistled nervously again. "And the Basilisk empire has no set procedure for abdication."

The prince's scales paled. "Shit."

He looked down at her, his face the golden green of new leaves. "She'll be a target," he whispered, voice filled with horror. "She may be a silver alpha, but she has no training in magic.

She has nothing..." His gaze turned steely. "Nothing except me."

He turned to the doctors. "I need to ensure you will stay quiet about this."

The doctor sighed, and then said, voice resigned, "What are your plans?"

The prince's tongue flickered out. "How long would it take both of you to gather your personal effects and your families? I would like to leave as soon as the auction is over, but I can wait a bit longer. Also, what would you like the official title of your new job to be?"

The doctor whistled in obvious relief. "So you're taking us with you? You don't want to silence us... Some other way?"

The prince shrugged. "I mean, secrecy spells can be overcome under the right circumstances, and I've never been much good at them anyways."

"You're not going to have us killed to keep your secret?" Two birdlike faces looked up at him, nervous.

The prince blinked. "Of course not! That would be barbaric." Absently, he ran his fingers through his mate's hair. "So what do you want your new titles to be? Personal physician and assistant?"

The woman walked behind the law officer, obediently following the tug of the leash. When she stumbled, or didn't walk fast enough, he pressed the shock button on her remote. It was a relief when she was finally handed over to one of the auctioneer's assistants.

As they waited for the previous auction to finish, the woman watched the officer leave, noting his name, badge number, and distinguishing features. She added him to the running list of those who'd been especially cruel to her. Someday, she promised, they would all pay.

"Next up we have an exotic animal known as a human. Removed from a low magic world by the Greys, it is clever, and highly trainable!" The auctioneer listed off her merits enthusiastically as she was led onstage. "Who is willing to bid 1000 credits for it?"

The woman shifted nervously, hoping the makeup really did cover up the strange purple design the aliens called a mating mark. When she looked the room over, she was careful not to let her eyes linger on Prince Melichior, who was bidding on her, or Captain Steve, who stood beside the prince scanning the crowd for danger.

Eventually only three parties were left bidding. One was a tall, cloaked figure with furry hands. Another was a Grey. The third was, of course, the prince.

"Do I- do I hear a-" the auctioneer stumbled over the number.

Slowly, the cloaked figure lowered its hand, somehow radiating animosity.

The Grey sighed and lowered her hand. "I fear I must admit defeat as well. It looks like Prince Melichior is the winner."

The woman bit her lip nervously as she was led backstage. The bidding had gone up way, way too high for discreteness. She was mildly surprised the Greys wanted her back so badly. Perhaps they thought Prince Melchior suspected them. And who the hell had the cloaked figure been? Why had they bidded so much for her?

Speaking of the cloaked figure, the same person, or one identically dressed, stepped between them and the exit. "Hand over the human," It said in an accent both strange and strangely familiar. "We don't want to hurt anyone, but, if we have to, we will."

The woman blinked. We? Then she saw two more figures slinking out, one armed with a sword, the other with a primitive firearm. Or, at least, it looked a lot more primitive than her Daddy's. She eyed the weapon nervously. It was the first she'd seen since she was abducted.

The assistant stepped back, dropping her leash. "Ok! Ok! If you want it this badly you can have it."

The first cloaked figure stepped forward to grab her hand, but she slid away. The assistant would be no help; she was already running down the hall at top speed back towards the auction.

"It's ok," soothed the cloaked figure. "We mean you no harm." It reached for its hood.

Another cloaked figure grabbed his wrist. "Boss. Incoming."

The first cloaked figure swore, and tried to grab her by the hand again. She jerked away and kicked it, hard, in an area that was hopefully below the ribcage. With an oof and an unfamiliar swear, the figure doubled over.

The figure with the sword held it in a guard position to cover the retreat of the other two. Just as Captain Steve caught up, hands blazing with magical fire, it, to, vanished into the shadows.

Prince Melchior swore. "Damn." He took her by the hand, and she allowed it. "Let's get you home where it's safe."

When the woman was seven, she had thought that aliens came from the sky in flying saucers, traveling between the stars with spaceships. Now she knew only the Greys did that. The rest of the galaxy used Starlight Leylines. Hell, even the Greys preferred them over their shuttles, which were mainly used to explore nonmagical parts of the galaxy.

Unfortunately, you needed to be in the right place to access one, and, based on overheard discussions, she knew this one was far away, at least right now. She wondered how they were getting there. Right up until she saw the sniper.

She knew what snipers were from TV when she was small. This one had given themselves away by shifting so that light glinted off their crossbow bolt's tip. Impossibly, she felt them preparing to fire, and knew who their target was. She threw herself over the prince, protecting him with her body from the bolt now lodged in her right shoulder.

Fortunately, a crossbow could only be fired once before needing to be reloaded. She slid off the prince, who was helped to his feet by a guard. Captain Steve pulled her up. "Where?" he demanded. "You saw them. Where did they shoot from?"

The woman pointed, and the Captain squinted along the line of her finger. "Cyclops mercenary, probably," he muttered. "Ok, Davis, Thomas, Clara, you stay with the prince and his new purchase. Get them out of sight of the building the human pointed to. The rest of you, with me. We can surround the building to keep the miscreant inside until the cavalry show. I've already signaled them, so they should be on their way."

By "the cavalry" the prince knew he referred to planetary law officers. The prince sighed as Davis tugged him into a safe nook. There went the opportunity to leave in a hurry. Also, if the person with the crossbow was a native or hired by a native, this could get ugly.

Prince Melchior looked over at the native in the nook with them. She was a kobold, same as Emmy. Like the Greys, kobolds were short. Unlike the Greys, they had snouts, tails, and copious amounts of fur. This one's tail was still and tucked in, indicating nerves.

He also wondered if this had something to do with his recent purchase. If word had gotten out about who she was... But the attempted abduction made no sense. Trying to kill either of them, yes. A careful, nonviolent abduction attempt, no. Once the matebond was activated by eye contact, breaking it without violence required them both to consent.

Then his shoulder twinged, and his eyes widened. "She's hurt!"

Davis grabbed him as he was about to run into the open. "Don't worry; Clara was with her. She knows first aid."

Prince Melchior groaned. "But I'm an omega! I could heal her!"

"Of course," Davis soothed. "Later. Once they've gotten the sniper."

He pulled out his walkie talkie, listened for a moment to the garbled speech, and then hung it back on his belt. "It looks like the local law has arrived, along with some bigwigs. It shouldn't be long now.

The woman let the basilisk named Clara drag her into cover. Once there, the basilisk broke out a first aid kit. "Hold still," Clara told the woman, and she held still, but other than that she barely noticed the other woman's ministrations.

In her mind, she was puzzling over the strange way she'd sensed the sniper about to hurt her... Her new owner? That wasn't right. Her... Mate? What did that word mean, anyways? Definitely hers, she decided. Didn't matter what else he was; he was hers.

The urge to protect him had been strong, and the rage that came with the knowledge that someone was trying to harm him was strong. She let out a low growl, making her ministering Basilisk flinch. If the attacker had been in killing distance, she would have, at the very least, tried to end the attacker's life.

Clara, now finished with bandaging the woman, pulled out her walkie talkie. She listened for a moment, and then gently tugged on the woman's arm. "The Prince wants you," she explained. "Come on."

Obediently, the woman followed. She wanted to see the Prince, too. Make sure he was ok.

The way his eyes lit up when they saw her gave her a warm feeling inside, like curling up on a heating pad after a long, cold day spent mining. Then the Prince turned back to the kobold standing in front of him. "You're sure you don't know anything else, Captain Eyoka?"

The kobold shook her head. "I'm sorry, Prince Melchior, but the Grey responsible took a swift acting poison before we could get to her, and she wasn't carrying any identification. Just the crossbow and a few bolts. We will, of course, examine everything she had on her for its origin to see if we can learn anything that way."

The Prince sighed. "Well, I guess it's time to continue to the leyline and head home."

Another kobold gave a nervous sounding chirrup. "About that... The planet's governor has planned a banquet in your honor, as sort of an apology for the assassination attempt. We would be most obliged if you would attend. The security will be top notch, of course, in case the Grey wasn't acting alone."

The prince tried not to sigh again. "I would be honored to attend." He hoped he managed to keep the frustration from his voice.

The kobold who'd given the invite chirruped in relief. "Good! The law officers will escort you back to your quarters. Unless you have anything you wish to do first?"

The prince shook his head. "No, back to my quarters is fine."

The woman looked around the opulent bedroom as the prince watched her nervously. He'd already healed her shoulder. Standing on tiptoe, she prowled the room as if afraid to touch anything, brow knit with worry and confusion.

"These are my quarters," the prince explained. "As my mate, you are welcome to share them with me. I can get you your own, but they won't be as grand."

The woman looked around. Used to sleeping on a cheap heating pad on the ground, she felt this was far too grand for the likes of her. She looked down at her dirty feet, ashamed. A single tear trickled down her cheek, and she angrily swiped it away, smudging the dirt and blood on her cheek.

The prince pointed to one of the five doors. "That's the bathroom, if you want to wash up. Or you could rest, and wash in the morning. I know it's been a long day." He pointed to one of the other doors. "That's the sitting room. It's got a lot of books, and a few games, if that interests you."

The door next to the bathroom was open to show a closet, and the one behind her the one she'd just entered through. That left... She pointed to the final door.

"My office," the prince explained. "It's got the usual office supplies. Paper, pens... That sort of thing."

Paper and pens? Perhaps... The woman hopefully tried the door.

It was locked. She drooped in disappointment.

The prince took her by the arm. "You should clean off and rest before working on... Whatever it is you want to work on."

Obediently, the woman followed him into the bathroom. As he pulled her into the room, though, she froze, eyes wide at the opulence surrounding her.

The floor was marble, as was the tub, and a little nook held a marble toilet and sink. All the fixtures were gold with green gemstones of varying hues. Fluffy white towels and wash cloths were draped over gold racks, along with a matching dressing gown.

The prince tugged her gently into the room, towards the enormous tub. She followed him, trying not to cry. She didn't want to disappoint him, but this was all much too nice for her to be using it. What if she got it dirty? She tugged herself out of the prince's grip.

Prince Melchior sighed, looking back at his anxious mate. "You're obviously too wound up to sleep. Come on, a nice bath might help you relax." He took her by the arm again.

She didn't want to fight him. He might get hurt. However, there was no way she was washing up in here. Washing, for her, usually involved a cold hosing off over a rusty grate. So, when they reached the tub, she refused to step over the side.

The prince sighed, and, before she knew it, had scooped her up in his arms. Gently, he lowered her into the warm water. "Is the temperature good?"

The feeling of the warm, silky water against her skin sent the woman to a time over a decade ago, when she was young, before the Greys took her. She whimpered, and, to her shame, began to cry.

Prince Melchior immediately scooped her out. "Was it too hot? Are you burned?"

She shook her head.

"Too cold, then?" the prince said, brows knit as he tentatively tested the water.

Slowly, she shook her head, tears still streaming down her cheeks.

Prince Melchior pursed his lips. "I guess you're not used to baths?"

She sniffed and nodded. Perhaps he had a hose somewhere she could use...

The prince smiled sweetly. "Then we'll use the shower." He pulled her towards a corner under a showerhead and began to remove his clothing. "Don't worry, I won't get completely undressed. I just don't want to get my official clothes wet." It was, he reflected, bad enough they were bloody. Emmy would be upset.

When he was down to his underwear, he tossed the rest of his clothes on a bench and turned on the spray. Once he was satisfied with the temperature, he tugged her under.

The woman closed her eyes, luxuriating in the feel of the warm spray, similar to yet totally unlike a cold hose. Then her eyes snapped open as something touched her back.

"Shh..." The prince soothed. "I'm just going to help you wash." He handed her a washcloth before gently scrubbing some more. "You can help, too."

Nodding, she began to scrub her face. Wincing, the prince grabbed the washcloth from her. "Not so rough! You're making your skin turn red."

As the prince washed her, occasionally asking if he was being too rough or asking her to change position, the woman remembered a poem she'd once heard as a child:

Nature's first green is gold

Her hardest hue to hold

Her early leaf's a flower

But only so an hour

Then leaf subsides to leaf

So Eden sank to grief

So dawn turns to day

Nothing gold can stay.

She didn't deserve something this nice, the woman thought, looking down at her emerald green prince. But she would cherish this Eden as long as she could.