Cold Mark (3 page)

His gaze met mine.

I said another silent prayer to Mother Joyal. We could not be separated.

My pulse hammered in my ears as I dragged my attention back to the President.

The President's words were slow and his voice timbered with regret of each name he read aloud, gifting each person a solemn nod of respect when they silently stood and began making their way to the door on the right side of the room.

My palms began to sweat as the woman directly on my left was called, her shaky breath audible as she stood. I leaned back and moved my legs so she could exit without tripping over me. Even though her eyes were filled with unshed tears, she only stumbled once in her march to her destiny.

The names stopped fifteen minutes later.

My stomach rolled in unease.

Jax and I had not been called for Egyac, the Kireg society.

It either meant we would not be picked at all ... or we were going to Triaz, the Mian society.

The President sighed as the door on the right shut, the final individual gone to the Kireg. He rolled his shoulders and folded the piece of paper in half, gazing at the lower section of it. His voice lowered to an even more somber tone. "Here are the individuals randomly picked for Triaz. If you hear your name called, please exit through the door on your left. Mian representatives will be waiting there, and you will also leave within the hour." He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them, squared his shoulders, and read from the list. "Braita Valorn."

My heart stopped, then hammered so hard inside my chest I feared I might faint.

I clutched the arms of my chair and took a ragged breath. I could not show fear.

Swallowing down the bile that burned the back of my throat, I rose to my feet and concentrated on breathing evenly. The black spots that had appeared in my vision diminished. I stared into the eyes of the President. With grim resignation, I dipped my head to him before he could even bow his to me.

His gaze said what I knew.

My world was forever changed, and my welfare was now in my own hands. I prayed to Mother Joyal that my training would keep me from being killed by the brutal Mian. Walking with a purpose of survival to my step, I glanced over my shoulder to Jax as the President called another name.

Jax's gaze never left me as I walked through the door on the left side of the room. To the Mian.

Silently shutting the door behind me, I peered directly ahead. I had never seen a Mian in person. Down the long and brightly lit hallway, there was one standing where the walkway ended and opened into another room within the building. My feet would not move as I stared.

This Mian had to be seven feet tall, his very height intimidating compared to my five foot, two-inch frame. He wore an imperial black robe with red embroidered embellishments. From my studies, I knew that the Mian were separated into warring factions of the east and the west. Though the stitched crest on his robe was a symbol of the planet Triaz, not of the two factions. This Mian was a delegate of the two, a litigator between the east and the west, but by the tattoo that rested next to his left eye, it clearly depicted a round symbol with a line through it. His origin was from the west. If he had been from the east, he would have worn the tattoo of a star next to his right eye.

And his blue eyes, they glowed softly.

It intimidated me further, seeing the blue and white of his gaze so crisply. The Mian were predominately of the night. They slept during the day because their eyes were unusually sensitive to light. Their vision was ten times better than a Human's, along with their strength. Every weakness that a Human had, they did not. They were superior to Humans in physicality.

The Mian's expression did not falter from stern impatience as he lifted one of his hands and gestured for me to move forward with a sharp flick of his wrist. He definitely did not seem impressed by me as his glowing gaze roved up and down my smaller stature. His mouth opened, and he barked in a thick accent, "Come."

I jerked forward, keeping my eyes on his. At least, he had spoken in English. While I
had
tested early for a proficiency in languages and
had
learned Mianese, I still was not comfortable speaking it. I could understand the dialect fine, but my speech still faltered when trying to express certain phrases. In other words, I was not a natural at their language. I had to work for it in class. Nearing the end of the hallway, I heard the door open and shut behind me, another Human coming through.

The Mian in front of me glanced over my head and appeared more pleased with what he saw. I had seen the man who had been called directly after me. He was much more robust than me in build, all muscle and strength. The Mian pointed to my left, glancing at me with disdain. "Over there, girl."

I tried not to stare at his ears, which were pointed at the top and nodded my head in silent treaty. Walking past him, I felt my stomach roll again, nausea making me grimace. Inside this room, that was as large as the conference hall, there were many Mian. The space was bare of furnishings, except for two tables that lined the left and the right sides of the room. Behind each table, there were Mian, who wore the same robes as the first Mian, all litigators of the east and the west. The direction I had been pointed to, all the Mian bore the symbol of the west, with the circle and line through it tattooed near their left eye.

Exhaling gradually, I ignored the stares of the Mian who were assessing me. I moved toward the start of the long table to my left where it appeared I should begin. The Mian there did not seem quite as gruff as the first man, but the scar edging down his jaw made my eyes falter. It was a nasty mark, appearing to have been made with a blunt knife, the red line thick and garish.

The Mian merely stared, and asked in Mianese, "Are you done gawking, Human?"

My gaze snapped up to his. I spoke slowly, concentrating on his language. "I apologize."

He lifted a red brow, his short, flame-colored hair the same shade as his scar. "Your name."

"Braita Valorn."

"Spell it."

I swallowed and did as told.

He typed it into his halo-pad. "Lay your head on the table."

My blink was gradual. I understood him fine, even in his language. "Why?"

That red brow lifted again. "You don't get to ask why, slave. Just do it."

His words hit me hard.
Slave
. My body wanted so badly to tremble, but I did not allow it to. I had read about slaves in Earth's history. It was not a pleasant thought. I really might puke. "Slave?"

His brutal features scrunched. "Did you just call me a 'cow'?"

Oh, Mother Joyal
. I concentrated once more and spoke slowly this time. "No. I apologize. My question was, am I to be a slave? Are the Humans picked here today to be slaves on Triaz?"

"Of course." He peered down his nose at me. "It is far better than being thrown onto the streets. You should be thankful the Mian leaders decided on this." I stared. He appeared adamant about his words. Sadly, he was probably right from my teachings. He placed the halo-pad on the desk and lifted a long silver rod. He picked two black identical rings from a silver box full of rings, and then slid them down the end of the rod. They clinked as they hit the flat end of the tool. A halo-pad rose into the air, and he typed in my name then gestured to the table. "Do as I said. Lay your head on the table. Face down and move your hair aside. You're a female so you'll be receiving the Cold Mark."

My eyes widened on their own accord. Females of the Mian society received a Cold Mark when they were born. The Mian population were governed by men. There were always two men to a household, how they were picked to be together the Humans still did not understand. But they were together for life. Underneath that same household, the ruling two men were allowed ten women to protect. They called the two men Vaq and the ten women their Harem. From what I understood, it was an honor to be picked as part of a Harem. Their Vaq were always there to protect and shelter them.

As if reading my mind, the Mian smirked. "It is highly doubtful that you will be picked for a Harem." His glowing gaze gradually raked over my frame. "You appear to be hardly past puberty."

Even while his lingering gaze confused me, I lifted my chin high. "I'm eighteen years old." My eyes narrowed the smallest bit when he snorted. "I'm well past," I whispered the scandalizing word, "
puberty
, thank you very much."

If he could, he actually appeared amused at the flush on my cheeks. "Do as I said."

I moved my hair aside as another Human girl came to stand next to me, appearing nervous. I smiled gently at her, then placed my head on the table, face down. I jerked when the Mian's fingers brushed remaining strands of my hair aside, his fingers so frigid they sent a shiver down my spine. He jerked his hand back but then continued shoving any stray hair away, his skin now regular temperature against mine. I gritted my teeth against the touch. He was a litigator of the Mian, so he had to know that skin-to-skin contact was illegal for Humans. It grated on my nerves as he toyed with me, taking his time removing the lingering strands of hair from my flesh.

But I quickly forgot that when he shoved his hand down on top of my head. "Do not move during this." I could barely breathe with the force of his hold shoving my mouth against the cold metal of the table. I did not know how he expected me to move. "The pain should only last seconds."

I slammed my hands on the table when a feeling I had never known froze into the back of my neck from the rod he struck there. I squelched the scream that wanted to tear from my lips as I was literally branded with the Cold Mark, vertical black lines in a short barcode. But just as quickly, the pain disappeared as the rod was swiftly pulled away from the back of my neck. The Mian removed his hand from my head and I straightened immediately, shaking my head past that immense agony. I blinked a few times and rubbed my eyes to make sure no tears fell.

The Mian with the flame red hair smiled without humor, the action pulling the scar on his face grotesquely. "The first Human with the Cold Mark. I never thought I would see this day." He tilted the rod and the rings fell off the end onto his palm. He placed them into a box he pulled from under the table, writing my name on the top of it and set it aside. He pointed to the Mian next to him, who was avidly watching. "Move down the line."

My forehead creased as I stared at the box with the two rings now in it. "What about those?"

He appeared to be trying to reign in his temper. "After the arrival ritual, if a Vaq picks you for their Harem the rings will be given to them. Otherwise, they will be given to your owner to do as they wish. Most likely, you will be a slave to a house Harem, where your duty will be to meet the needs of the ladies." He reached across the table and grabbed my elbow, roughly shoving me down the line of the table. "Now, do as you're told."

Holding my travel helmet in my hands, I waited inside the Mian's spacecraft. I had been searched, more cold fingers on me, and then made to change into the flight wear. It consisted of a black, skintight suit, black boots, and black gloves—all space travel safe. I now stood where I was buckled against the wall with the other nine females who had been chosen to travel to Triaz. The chosen Human men were milling around inside the cavernous area we were in. Their boots were equipped with a magnetic pull to keep them grounded when the spacecraft finally launched. The magnets were their only safety harness to keep them from tumbling. By this action, it was evident that even as a slave, the Mian protected the women over the men.

Jax stood directly in front of me, not saying a word.

I was scared and relieved that his name had also been called by the President.

I felt the floor beneath us begin to shake, the spacecraft readying for takeoff. I gradually put my helmet on. The Mian litigators had informed us that as soon as the helmet was connected to our suit, we would have just enough air to survive the trip to Triaz, and then one hour afterward. Only a Mian could remove the helmet with their fingerprint on the side of the helmet. If we chose to try to escape, we would die from lack of oxygen.