Author: Thanks to SwanMew for helping me write this chapter!


Eliza froze at his words. "Them"? So did that mean that the rumors about Cyniclons only being able to have one mate were entirely false? The House Owner vanished in order to process paperwork. And Kisshu walked over to Eliza and circled her like a shark circles its prey; like a vulture circles a rotting carcass. He examined her like this before reaching out and grabbing her wrist, pulling her closer to him. He grabbed her chin and forced her to meet his eyes.

"You look so much like her," he cooed, "it's almost uncanny." Then his voice hardened along with his eyes. "You're mine." He released her chin and Eliza immediately dropped her gaze. Kisshu turned to Lizzie, still holding Eliza's wrist. "And you are going to keep her company whenever I'm too busy for her." He frowned before adding, "I'll finally have a complaint about my job."

Still clutching Eliza's wrist, the prince walked across the room toward Lizzie, dragging Eliza behind him. He reached out his hand to the brunette. Her first instinct was to slap it, but she thought better of it, figuring that he could grab her and hold her if her hand even neared his at all, no matter for how short a time. Cyniclons were like that; tricksters, every one of them. So instead, she stepped backward and pressed herself against the wall, giving him a defiant glare. Lizzie could almost feel the bow in her hand, the quiver on her back, and the elation that would come from hurting these tyrants as much as they had hurt her. The whole sector would mourn the death of their prince. But a pleading stare from Eliza snapped her out of her fantasy. Lizzie pondered what would happen to Eliza if she fought, and she didn't like the answer. So, stiffly, she stretched out a hand and stared – smoldering – at the floor in front of her feet.

Kisshu took the outstretched hand before teleporting them to the ground outside next to the largest transporter that Eliza had ever seen. Transporters were the Cyniclons' way of traveling when they weren't sure how many times they would need to teleport. As teleportation required vast amounts of energy, transporter vehicles were a good substitute if they thought they might have to make multiple stops. And this one was luxurious.

Like all transporters, it resembled a stagecoach, made of dark wood, or at least something that resembled it. But unlike a stagecoach, it had no wheels or horses. It moved by hovering above the ground at incredible heights, lifted up by some sort of alien technology that humans could never hope to understand. The roof of every stagecoach was covered in solar panels that powered the vehicle's thrust and propulsion systems.

But this was no ordinary transporter. While most were small and could only hold about four passengers, this one stretched as long as a limousine, and quite possibly longer. Who knew how many people it could hold? And the outside was not only carved with elaborate decorations, but some of the carvings were gilded and gleamed golden in the morning sunlight.

Another Cyniclon appeared and said something to Kisshu in Cyncloni while holding up a holo-scroll. Kisshu nodded and replied before teleporting into the transporter, taking the girls with him.

The inside of the transporter was just as luxurious as the outside. The seats were covered in red velvet, and the floor was carpeted with a plush, green rug. The interior wood was also decorated with gilded carvings. The extravagance was both amazing and sickening, and Eliza felt her stomach turn as the vehicle gained altitude. But the height was not the cause of her nausea; rather, it was what she knew to be her future. She glanced at Lizzie trying to determine her fellow's thought from her facial expression. It wasn't a difficult task.

Lizzie sat in the seat; back ramrod straight, her eyes fixed on the window. The misty clouds flying past the transporter obscured her view of the ground below. Her attention was not on the scenery. Out of the corner of her eye, Lizzie was watching the prince lounge on the velvety bench opposite her and Eliza. He sat right in the middle, propping his feet up on the bench across from him, separating Lizzie from the other girl. She frowned. Although her fate seemed far better than any for which she could have hoped at the Home, she didn't trust the prince for a moment. She shifted her gaze to Eliza, wondering how the girl was holding up.

Eliza was staring absent-mindedly at the floor of the transporter, lost in thought and denial. "I did what they wanted. I was a good girl. I don't deserve this. Surely, this must be a mistake." But the depth of her soul knew that it wasn't, and that caused her stomach to churn even more. No. The optimism was a luxury she could not afford, regardless of what treasures with which she would now be spending the rest of her days. She could tell from the position of the windows that they were in the back of the transporter. This compartment was so small that there must indeed be more to the vehicle than it, but she saw no doors leading to whatever other areas might exist. There weren't even any doors that led outside. She wondered briefly how the Cyniclons accessed the other part of the vehicle, before remembering that they teleport. And she mused that there was no way for her to get out of here without breaking glass. This epiphany of her own weakness startled her. The Home was a renovated, human-made mansion. It had doors that allowed travel from one room to another, so she had never felt like she was completely trapped; never felt like it was a prison. But this vehicle was absolutely claustrophobic, regardless of its large size. Although Eliza knew that she would never have the courage to leave anyways, it was one thing to know that you wouldn't leave. It was another entirely to know that there was no way you could.

Lizzie sat on the other end of the bench seat, Kisshu's feet propped up between them. Eliza could feel his eye on her, and it unnerved her even more. Her stomach twisted again. She wondered if she would have vomited by now had she eaten breakfast. He scooted a little to his right, closer to her. Her pulse pounded in her ears, the flight or fight response kicking in. And Eliza was neither strong enough to fight nor fast enough to run, even if there had been room to do either. The stress was overpowering. And then… the world went black.

Lizzie had been staring at the rug, trying to process the events of the past twenty-four hours, when she heard a small noise on her left from Eliza. She lifted her head just in time to see Eliza slipping to the floor in a dead faint. "Eliza!" She jumped up to stop her fall…

And was thrown back into the wall by an exceedingly pale hand. Gold eyes pierced through her as he spoke. "She will learn to get her comfort from me. You are only needed when I am not around. Understand?"

Lizzie glared at him as he picked up Eliza and cradled her in his alien arms as if he actually cared. This made her mad. How dare he suggest that he could be a comfort to her? Was he not the reason she had passed out in the first place? Lizzie crossed her arms over her chest and returned to her seat, staring out the window, smoldering. Her green eyes were flecked with blue sparks of ire.

Suddenly, a voice came from nowhere, speaking in Cyncloni and startling her. Kisshu nodded and turned to Lizzie to translate. "We will be entering the wormhole soon."

"Wormhole?" Lizzie continued to stare out the window. The delicate swirl of clouds became a white blur, and then turned grey. The force of the sudden acceleration pinned her against the seat, and it seemed as if her stomach were left behind. Kisshu floated up gently, adjusting his levitation so that he and Eliza were unaffected by the force of the wormhole. Lizzie was a little offended that he didn't do something similar for her, but he had already made it clear that she wasn't really needed. The speed made her woozy, and she shut her eyes to avoid the dizziness that was caused by zipping past the clouds at such a velocity. She was on the verge of passing out herself, when suddenly the vehicle slowed. The slowing of the transporter was just as sudden as the acceleration had been, and she found herself thrown into the bench opposite of her. "Stupid Cyniclons don't even know how to make seat-belts…" But as she straightened up and looked out the window, what she saw coming into view below the clouds momentarily distracted her from her anger.

It was night in the capitol, as the fracture created in the space-time continuum by the wormhole had thrown them about eleven hours into the future. A sea of blue, twinkling lights met her gaze, as if the lights from a thousand stars reflected off the windows of the capitol buildings. Every building was different, but somehow they blended together in an uncanny harmony. One building they passed had four stories; it was a solid white cube with twenty windows on each side, but not a door in sight. The building hovered above the ground, propelled by a force that Lizzie couldn't see. Another building was not unlike a skyscraper; black steel beams and windowed walls of glass that were rooted firmly into the ground rose up to such a height that the floors couldn't be counted in the time it took for them to pass the edifice. Yet another building seemed to be made of grey concrete, shaped like a small, single-story dome. This building floated around, moving from place to place. It resembled what humans had thought a space-ship looked like before the Cyniclons invaded and they learned that the classic UFO model was inaccurate. It was like the inside of the transporter; amazing and eerie at the same time. Lizzie took in the sights with both fear and awe, and she absentmindedly wondered if the people who lived in these buildings were happy with Kisshu's presiding over them.

The transporter glided along until it reached an immense and intimidating mansion on a secluded hill that looked over the rest of the city. This building shone with golden light rather than blue, and this light bathed a large green lawn and fountained pond. The mansion was made of gleaming white marble. Pillars supported a high roof and added to the threateningly strong appearance, made even stronger by its anchoring to the ground. This place was not going to float away. The building had six stories and its windows were framed with elaborate moldings. One exceptionally large window stood in place of a door, providing a view of the fountain. The transporter stopped between the window and the pond, hovering above a small expanse of sandy cobblestones.

Inside the vehicle, Kisshu still held the unconscious Eliza. He grabbed Lizzie by the wrist and teleported.

Lizzie glanced around the room. It had white marble walls and a matching floor. Pillars swirled up on either side of the room, embedded into the walls as supports. A large bed with white sheets, a lilac comforter, lavender pillows, and a purple satin canopy furnished the room. There was also a large, dark wooden wardrobe with gilded designs. Next to it sat a vanity table of similar make.

"This is your room," Kisshu said before vanishing, leaving Lizzie alone.

The first thing she did was search for a door. When she found one, she gleefully flung it open. To her disappointment, it was only a rather large bathroom. "Well, at least there is a bathroom," she thought as she turned on the bath water. She hadn't bathed in an actual tub in a little over a year. As a Wild, the only bathing times were when the camp found a river. And if she didn't want to be captured by Cyniclons, she had to bathe with a group. There was nothing that made a bath less desirable than having to strip down in front of a bunch of other people. And because she was always wary of Cyniclon hunters, she rarely bathed for fear that she would have to run away naked while they threw sharp objects at her.

As she sunk into the warm water, Lizzie thought that it was rather ironic. Here she could bathe without worry of harm or humiliation, and yet she would trade it all to be free again; to be foraging with Gabe. She leaned her head back into the water, and as the blue streak of the Home's ownership leaked out of her hair and swirled around her, she wondered how Gabe was doing. She wondered if he had found his little sister. She wondered if he was happy. But most of all, she wondered if he missed her.