Claimed by the Zandian Read online Renee Rose, Rebel West (Zandian Brides #6)

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: , Series: Zandian Brides Series by Renee Rose
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Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 55108 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
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A muscle ticks in Gorde’s jaw, but he nods. “Yes, Master.”

“You may return to your domiciles but if you wish to stay here together and keep vigil in the palace, Lady Lamira has invited you to stay. We will keep you apprised of every bit of information we receive.” Master Seke inclines his head with respect and leaves the room.

I suck in a breath. “I’m staying,” I say immediately.

“Good.” Enya squeezes my hand. “I want to be with you.”

I squeeze it back.

“We’re staying, too,” Danica says, her eyes swimming with fresh tears. “And we’ll keep praying to sweet Mother Earth and the one true Zandian Star they return safely.”

I touch my abdomen, imagining I can sense the tiny embryo inside.

Tarek has to return.

For both of us.

Chapter 14

Tarek

Our escape pod plummets through the Ocretion atmosphere, but I’m not here. I’m back in that examination room, hearing I’m going to be a father.

Smelling the scent of Zina’s tears when I accuse her of tricking me.

How could I be such an idiot?

My last moment with the only female I’ve ever loved and I made her cry. And she’s carrying a young I’ll never know. And she’ll be on her own—without me there to provide, protect, care for our family. It vecking guts me.

Benn has snapped back into warrior mode, taking the limited controls to try to slow our descent and manage some kind of landing.

Ocretia is a dead planet, surrounded by a sunless, gray polluted sky. If we survive our crash landing, we’ll surely be picked up by Ocretion police and be taken in as political prisoners for torture and execution.

When we get close enough, Benn releases the sail-chute but it doesn’t open.

“Veck,” he grits. “Veckity, veck, veck. We’re going to crash!” Benn frantically works the controls to stabilize the craft to stop the spinning.

I activate my sensors to scan the area for landing. “Uninhabited,” I report tersely. “No apparent lifeforms in the area.” I keep scanning. “Eighty-two degrees, there’s a garbage field. It might cushion the landing.”

“Or kill us,” Benn mutters.

He’s right. Garbage isn’t necessarily soft.

“Let me,” I command, taking over the one-being controls. I might be able to navigate through the piles of trash, just brushing edges enough to slow our velocity. I change the angle of the pod to horizontal but we’re still coming in too fast.

I use my sensor readings to dodge through materials, letting the outside of the craft bump and bounce off the obstacles without hitting any head-on. The craft slams and bounces so hard my organs hit bone and the harness tears my skin, but I keep going.

Time slows. Lengthens.

I work the controls, not breathing, my heart not beating until at last, the pod skids and thuds to a stop.

“We made it!” Benn shouts, opening the hatch. “That was incredible flying, Tarek. I thought we were going to crash in flames.” He draws his Zandian sword and steps out, turning his head right and left to scan the area.

“Still no lifeforms, I report. Nor any craft above or approaching.”

“Then let’s destroy the pod and find somewhere safe while we make a plan.”

I step out and we set a detonator on the escape pod. Immediately destroying evidence of our breach of Ocretion borders is far more important than anything we might salvage from the pod.

We run from the pod, bracing ourselves for the explosion. When it goes off, we don’t look back.

Zina

The space we’re invited into is something of a prayer room. Or a meditation space. It’s a dome-shaped room, with a yawning skylight and a giant Zandian crystal suspended from the top. The result is a rainbow prism of light painting every surface.

Danica and I are offered glasses to shield our eyes from the magnified crystal light. The queen, herself, is inside, stretched out on a lounge chair as if she’s bathing in the light.

“It’s a crystal light bath,” Gorde explains to us as we enter. “Zandians require the crystal to fuel our bodies. The Zandian elders designed a light bath like this for the palatial pod before we won our planet back. Any Zandian in the galaxy was invited weekly to bathe and restore.”

Lady Lamira, the queen, sits up and turns her head toward us. “They are alive.”

Danica gasps.

I let out a cry. “How do you know?”

“Our queen has special sight,” Gorde says to me, although I’ve already heard the stories. “The crystals enhance it.”

“I thought we should hold vigil here,” Lady Lamira explains. “In case I received any images or information.”

“And you did?” I breathe.

She shakes her head. “I just know they’re alive. I sense their energies still.”

Tears sting my eyes. “How can we bring them back?”

“I don’t know,” the queen says. “But I’ll tell you if I get anything.”

A Zandian servant walks around the perimeter of the room lighting candles behind standing crystals, casting even more rainbows around the room. The energy pulses through my cells, and as it does, some of the terrible blocks in my chest melt away.


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