Zayn, p.1
Zayn, page 1
Zayn
Zyrgin Scars Book 1
Marie Dry
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2022 by Marie Dry
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review.
Cover design by Dar Albert
Chapter One
Amira stood on the curved palace steps in the capital city of her home planet, Aurelia. The palace had taken a beating a few weeks ago when they had dared to oppose their oppressors. She resisted the urge to spit, just thinking about the Zyrgins.
That failed rebellion was why they now waited for the Zyrgin who was going to be their Governor. Up to now the Zyrgins only demanded tribute from them. Heavy tribute they had to pay every year, that were slowly bleeding them dry.
No doubt, with the arrival of the governor, their lives are going to be much harder.
The steps and flower boxes were still damaged from the fighting during the uprising, but she doubted that would bother their new governor. They did not care for beauty, only battle.
The Zyrgins scared the talent right out of her. Their expressionless faces, those ungodly eyes. Did they ever joke amongst themselves? Did they even feel?
It was while she’d been ranting to herself after the failed rebellion that she’d first called them talking lizards in her head. The image in her mind had made her smile. Now it was her coping mechanism whenever the fear wanted to overwhelm her.
Caecillius, a distant cousin of hers, stood next to her. Around them stood the other courtiers and palace personnel, all of them awaiting their latest oppressor from Zyrgin.
A rustling went through the crowd on the top of the palace steps and they all stared upwards. It took every ounce of willpower Amira had not to openly glare at the space ship landing on the pristine lawn in front of the palace. Streams of air blew out from the underside of the ship, destroying the freshly laid lawn. She curled her lip at the sleek ship. Typical Zygin behaviour, destroying everything they touch.
“I don’t believe it, it’s a warrior class ship,” Caecillius said. He stood slightly in front of her, as if he was eager to be seen as the Aurelian representing the people. He sounded impressed and unnerved at the same time.
She was a full head shorter than the average Aurelian and she had to peer around her cousin to see the new Zyrgin Governor.
A long time ago, the Zyrgin emperor had taken an Aurelian woman as his breeder. Rumour had it that she had committed suicide. Aurelians were considered lucky by the other conquered peoples. Unlike the other planets conquered by the Zyrgins, Aurelia never had a governor and no work camps. The Zyrgin only demanded tribute from them. Amira clicked her tongue. That was bad enough. Their oppressors were slowly but surely sucking them dry with their demand for more and more tribute.
If only her cousins, who had ruled as King and Queen, had stuck to their plan. Instead of a skirmish that would show the other worlds that it was possible to challenge the empire, they kidnapped the emperors parena, his breeder or wife, who knows, they’d tortured her and the six Zyrgins stationed on Aurelia.
Instead of inspiring the other worlds to rebellion they’d shown the other conquered planets the bravery of the Parena. Amira still couldn’t fathom how the twins thought torturing a tiny female would get them any kind of approval. The result of that was they now had fifty warriors stationed on their planet and a governor about to arrive.
“Why is the kind of ship important?” She didn’t care what the talking lizard arrived in, but every bit of information she could gather could help them deal with their oppressor.
“On their planet, Governors are well below the warriors in the pecking order. Even where they govern, they are figure heads. The head warrior, the one they call the conquest leader, is normally the one in charge.”
“I thought the warriors conquered and then it was the governors that started up the factories and work camps?” There was a rumour that some governors were easier to deal with.
“They do, but it’s the warriors that give the instructions and the governors that make it happen. Anyone not a warrior is a second-class citizen.” The disgust in Caecillius’ voice surprised her. She’d never been certain exactly where his loyalties lied.
“I wonder why they gave the governor an attack class ship?” he said thoughtfully.
With a shrill noise, the ship sank deep into the newly created lawn and a hatch opened and at the same time a ramp appeared. A Zyrgin dressed in their distinctive silver uniforms appeared in the doorway and ignoring the ramp, jumped down onto the destroyed lawn with an agility and strength that soured her stomach. She narrowed her eyes. Did he just lose his footing? Or was it wishful thinking on her part. You had to admire the strength and grace of their bodies. Well, she would admire it if she didn’t hate them so much.
“Oh shit,” Caecillius said.
She craned her neck and went onto her toes to see better. “What? What’s wrong?”
“Unless there’s another Zyrgin in there, they’ve sent us a warrior.” Caecillius sounded nervous and with good reason. A Zyrgin warrior was an unrelenting fighting machine. They had no emotions, didn’t eat or sleep until they’ve won their battle. It still surprised her that they managed to give the six warriors guarding the flames drugged wine.
“Are you sure?”
“Look at the way he moves. We’ve got big trouble on our hands.”
“Why?”
“Governors run work camps, but warriors cut off heads.”
Amira instinctively covered her neck with her hand. She’d seen the Zyrgins cut off the heads of the Aurelians who had fought them during the uprising. She still had nightmares about it.
“We have to get them off our planet,” she said through barely moving lips. Informants were everywhere.
Caecillius stared at the warriors on the lawn. “They leave fifty warriors behind whenever they conquer a planet,” he said, sounding bitter. “It defies logic that they could control entire planets with only fifty warriors left on the conquered planets.”
She stared at the warriors that stood on the lawn in five precise rows. They’d arrived the day of the uprising. “Surely that rumour can’t be true. I’ve heard that when they take over a planet, they bring in so many warriors it takes them a day to march through the capital city.” Up to now Aurelia had escaped that fate.
“That is just intimidation. Count those warriors. Forty-nine and the new governor makes fifty.”
Was it her imagination or did the new governor hesitate a fraction of a second before he walked up to the warriors with deliberate steps that said don’t mess with me. His broad shoulders stretched his silver uniform. “He look’s familiar,” she murmured. But that was impossible.
Sunlight should glare off the silver uniforms all the warriors wore, but somehow it deflected her gaze without any glare. The governor struck his fist against his chest, muscles bunched in his biceps.
The warriors did not return his greeting. They stood unmoving staring straight ahead. The governor turned on his heel and stalked towards the palace. Every step denoted suppressed fury. So, there is dissension in the ranks, she thought with a big inward smile.
“Interesting,” Caecillius said. “All is not well in our oppressors world, maybe we can use it to our advantage.” Caecillius spoke so softly she barely heard him.
“How do you know so much about them.” She’d thought every Zyrgin on that cursed planet was a warrior, including the governors they send out. Getting any information about the Zyrgin home world was virtually impossible. Until recently all they had was wild rumours.
“I have my sources.” His arrogance is going to get him killed. And she wouldn’t allow him to take anyone else down with him. They’d barely survived the aftermath of Coralinda and Cornelius’ sick pleasures. She clenched her fists until her nails dug into her palms. The hurt of that betrayal from their former king and queen just wouldn’t diminish.
Her cousins had promised to lead the Aurelian people to freedom. Instead, they’d increasingly pursued their sick pleasures. It would haunt her the rest of her life that she didn’t know about their horrific actions in the dungeons. It was only when they abducted the warriors and the Zyrgin’s Parena, that Amira had realized how deranged the twins had become.
“You didn’t think to share, Caecillius?” They didn’t need another royal out for what he could get for himself.
“I’m the next in line, I do not have to share anything,” he said
He wasn’t the next in line and not the successor to the throne, but she didn’t care enough to argue. Caecillius had to know that the Zyrgins are not going to allow another Aurelian king to rule. Not even in name only. And weirdly she had the feeling that the crown is the last thing he wanted. “Quiet he’s coming,” she murmured. The warriors had extremely sharp senses.
His long strides arrogant, their new governor approached the palace. Unease stirred again. Something about him seemed worryingly familiar.
Murmurs spread through the people around her. He walked with a fluid grace, muscles rippling, uniform gleaming. Say what you want about their oppressors, the talking lizards were well built.
The Aurelian courtiers were tall and slim, but under her twin cousin’s rule they’d become lazy pleasure seekers. She used to spy on the Zyrgins guarding the flames and she’d been impressed, in spite of herself, with the way they’d practice with their swords for hours without seeming to tire. She’d told herself it was to learn their habits. To try and get some information about them. But she’d always ended up watching the smooth movements of one Zyrgin in particular.
A horrible feeling of doom crept over her. Their enemy, the one sent to oppress them and work them even harder, got bigger and bigger as he came closer.
And she knew him. Queasiness settled in her stomach. Surely this wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be him. She relaxed. It wasn’t him, she simply wasn’t that unlucky.
Most Aurelians said that all Zyrgins looked the same. Not to her, she’d made it her business to study her enemy. And almost ended up dangerously fascinated with this warrior that scared her more than the orphanage had all those years ago. He was almost on top of them now.
She sucked in a shocked breath. Where his ear should be was a savage wound. No, she thought. No, no, no. This can’t be happening. For one horrible moment the world tipped around her and she saw him as if through the tunnel in the silken mountains.
“Oh shit,” Caecillius said so softly, if she wasn’t standing next to and slightly behind him, she wouldn’t have heard him.
She repeated the profanity in her head. He was their enemy, but seeing the recordings of his torture had hurt her deep inside. The bravery, the sheer courage when he’d insisted, he would take the Parena’s torture had stunned her.
Caecillius stepped forward, obviously determined to be seen as the one in charge. He could have the position with her compliments.
The warrior walked by Caecillius without acknowledging him, his shoulder bumped into her cousin, causing him to stagger and scramble not to fall. It wasn’t an accident.
Amira quickly moved out of the way. Between sidestepping Caecillius’ stumbling figure, and the others moving away, she suddenly found herself isolated and the only person still standing there. Face to face with the warrior she’d handed a drugged cup of wine. She hid her trembling hands in the folds of her dress. Would he recognize her?
The warrior stopped right in front of her. Amira knew this because a pair of extremely large silver boots filled her down turned gaze. She stopped breathing.
“Look at me female.”
Gasps from everyone around her and she felt her own eyes widen. Zyrgin warriors didn’t speak to females. They didn’t even look at them. Everyone knew this.
Chapter Two
Her heart hammered so loud, she was sure he could hear it, even with one ear missing. Amira kept her head down even though with every cell in her being, she wanted to obey his order. Fear was a good motivator.
The large silver boots made from their weird metal filled her vision. That metal had made the Zyrgins powerful enough to rule several galaxies. It was only found on the planet Zyrgin and somehow the Zyrgins had figured out how to mould the metal to be pliable enough to be made into clothes. They made spaceships with impenetrable hulls with it. “I said look at me female.”
His rough voice grated over her senses, making goose bumps break out over her body. She stared at his muscled calves, clearly delineated by his uniform that moulded to his body.
“Now Aurelian.” He sounded like the roar of a forest burning. The same promise of destruction. The same seductive and frightening beauty.
The other women didn’t even try to melt away, they merely gathered their skirts and ran. She was tempted to join them in their flight.
As slowly as she dared, she looked at firm knees, muscled thighs. After a quick guilty glance at the bulge between his thighs her gaze jumped to narrow hips and a wide chest. Unlike her, there was no sign of a frantically beating heart in his chest. Broad shoulders hid most of the sky from her gaze.
One word reverberated in her brain. Breeder. That word struck fear into every woman on every conquered planet. It was said that warriors only paid attention to females they want to take as breeders.
No one knew how Zyrgins chose the women they made their breeders, but as far as she knew the women simply disappeared. No one saw them talking to women. Ever. Was that why he looked at her, talked to her? To try to make her a breeder?
Please give me the strength to fight him if that is his plan, she begged silently.
“Look. At. Me,” he grated with that forest fire voice.
She lifted her gaze and looked into eyes blacker than the darkest night in the countryside, when there were no stars and no moon shining down. That dark, dark gaze felt as if it burned through her eyes and into her brain. Amira had to resist the need to touch her head covering to see if it was still in place and not burned away by that savage stare. His eyelids had a thin black ridge that made him look exotic and very dangerous. To her. As she watched, horror growing, red tendrils bled into his eyes.
It was said that by the time you saw red in a Zyrgin’s eyes, it was too late.
“You are a small female?”
Her cheeks burned. Why didn’t he just take off her head covering and expose all her shortcomings to the world? “Yes Governor.”
He pointed to Caecillius and then to her. “Throne room, now,” he barked and stormed into the palace. She had the weirdest feeling that he was disappointed with her answer.
She almost fainted with relief. He didn’t recognise her, was merely curious about the fact that she was smaller than other Aurelians.
“Bastard,” Caecillius mumbled and she saw the warrior tilt his head slightly. He might have lost an ear and probably his hearing in that ear, but she had no doubt the other one was working better than both of hers.
“All my planning was done with the idea that he would be a pencil pusher. A warrior is a whole different story,” Caecillius muttered.
She widened her eyes at him and he shut up, but the warrior had probably heard everything he said.
The new governor walked thought the doors and into the palace. She and Caecillius exchanged glances and hurried after him.
Ahead of them the heavy doors to the throne room banged against the wall. She’d forgotten how fast they could move. She winced, thinking about the priceless murals in that room. Hopefully he didn’t hit the murals on the walls when he pushed open the doors.
“Aurelians,” the governor thundered.
Squaring her shoulders Amira stalked after him and like she did so many times before, she drew the invisible cloak of palace administrator around her. Unlike her cousins, she’d supported herself from the time she’d turned sixteen. She knew the palace like the back of her hand and was aware of everything that happened in it. Well, she’d thought she knew. Obviously she should’ve paid more attention to the dungeons.
Did he recognise her? Was that why he remarked on her size? She’d protested the use of children to hand the Zyrgins the drugged wine all those months ago. Coralinda had insisted it was the only way. In the end the only option Amira had was to join the children and to try to keep the warriors’ attention on her.
Caecillius entered the throne room first and as usual she couldn’t figure out if he did it in a bid to protect her, or if the idiot was trying to curry favor. He did not have Coralinda and Cornelius’ sick proclivities. But he was ambitious.
The warrior stood with his feet braced apart and his arms crossed over his chest, that dark gaze missed nothing. The way he stood as if he owned the palace, as if he had every right to order any Aurelian around, grated.
It couldn’t be healthy, feeling so much hatred that it became a living thing inside her. Amira hastily looked down to hide her expression. How many times had she seen them stand like that while honest hardworking Aurelians had to work like slaves to meet the quota demanded in the yearly tribute they had to pay. No matter how many times she told herself that he was the enemy, she felt guilt every time she compulsively watched the recording of his torture.
“Who are you,” he grated.
“My name is Amira, Governor.” She said and bowed with her palms together in front of her chest. Amira made sure to make the bow gracious and respectful. Talking lizard, oppressor, she chanted in her mind, but she kept a slight smile on her face.
Caecillius walked forward, again stepping in front of her. He put on a good show, but she could see by the way he carried himself that he was bracing himself for trouble. Her heart hammered with debilitating fear. Talking lizard she reminded herself.
