Dragon Ball Z 1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z, all rights reserved to my man Akira Toriyama.   
  
Short Summary: This story is an AU set on Vejiita-sei. What happens when a couple try to remain together through infidelity? This is not your average 'Bulma is Vegeta's slave' story and the Saiyans did not destroy Earth. Find out how Bulma, copes as she becomes Vegeta's 'Mistress.' Will she accept the arrangement? Or will the sight of Vegeta with another woman, slowly drive her to the point of insanity? A story about passion, lust, jealousy and the power of physical domination.   
  
Remember this is only the prologue. In the upcoming, beginning chapters I will be dealing with the previous three years of Bulma and Vegeta's relationship, how they got together, her past and how she came to be on Vejiita-sei etc, up until the point of Vegeta's ascension to King and will be further exploring Bulma's role as Vegeta's mistress.   
  
WARNING: Rated R for mature content; sex, violence and swearing. 

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Prologue. 

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Grunts of pleasure filled her ears.   
  
With a vacant, shocked expression, she lay quietly under the lithe form of the moving Saiyan above and inside her. She gripped his shoulders roughly as he rode her, indenting his tanned olive skin with half-moons from her razor sharp nails. Sometimes she drew blood and it exhilarated her... It made her feel powerful and thirsty... Thirsty for more.   
  
But he never noticed.   
  
He was strong and a born warrior; pain was non-existent to him. Just once she would have liked to hurt him, see him in agony because of her, writhing on the ground in his own blood and bodily fluids. But in the same instance, she couldn't think of doing that to him.   
  
She couldn't grasp the thought of hurting him. He had given her so much... And yet, he had taken everything away from her. Her dignity, her pride... Her honor. All gone. All for the pleasure he had bestowed upon her, nightly. She was blind when it came to him. Blind with lust and passion.   
  
It was the same, night after night, week after week. Always the same. It had been this way for three years. Even after the ceremony and celebrations, he would not tire. He never tired when it came to her.   
  
He came and finished with a satisfied growl erupting from his throat. Pulling away from her, he settled himself beside her, staring up at the ceiling, panting with unbidden fervor. As always, his breathing slowed and returned to its normal pattern before she barely had time to catch her own breath.   
  
Instinctively, she turned to rise from the bed, a healthy flush coloring her pale cheeks. But before she could step out of the warm bed, his firm hand shot out and latched onto her wrist. She frowned to herself, but masked it as she turned to the owner of the hand, an inquisitive expression now plastered across her face.   
  
"Stay," he murmured, his eyes glinting wickedly from the reflected rays of star light that beamed into the dark room through the extensive window behind her.   
  
A shiver coursed its way down her spine as the commanding timbre of his voice wrapped around her like a comforting embrace.   
  
She licked her lips, "It wouldn't be right," she remarked quietly, gazing into his deep obsidian eyes knowingly.   
  
Tomorrow evening at the very same time, he would be bonded to another, he would belong to another. A Saiyan woman; not some alien trash who had no true heritage.   
  
She flinched as he bared his gleaming, wolfish fangs at her, yanking her arm roughly and pulling her back down against him. A dull ache formed in the socket of her shoulder and she rubbed it unconsciously as she found herself pinned beneath him once more.   
  
Her vision blurred and she forced back the river of tears that threatened to spill from her haunting blue eyes. Why couldn't he just leave her alone? Why did he always make her feel so much unbearable pain? Why...   
  
"Vegeta..." She sighed his name painfully, catching the glimmer of remorse in his eyes. Before she could respond, she cried out and arched her back as he roughly took her again.   
  
"Bonded or not, we will continue this woman," he snarled into her ear, digging his calloused fingers into her hips as he started to move against her roughly.   
  
Gone were the gentle strokes that she had become used to, as he kissed her violently, reclaiming her body in a mixture of unbearable pain and pleasure. He was so--so good!! So hard... She moaned quietly, her limbs stiffening as they finally both came together in a hurricane of pleasurable ripples lapping at their sweat-covered bodies.   
  
They lay silently together, unmoving. In the stillness of the humid night, she could faintly hear the chirping of the many poisonous insects that dwelled on the planet. Warm breath tickled her ear and she found herself unwillingly wrapping her arms around his corded, muscled neck; their bodies sticking together from the humid heat of the planet.   
  
"How will we be able to continue this, Vegeta?" She breathed into his own ear, causing him to tremble in her arms from the aftermath of pleasure.   
  
"The Saiyan Queen is merely a vessel to carry the heir of Vejiita-sei," he informed her stoically as he remained above and inside her.   
  
She looked up into his eyes, a moment of pain lacing the edges of her cerulean eyes. How could she ever stand to watch him with another woman? Not after the three long years they had spent together... "Why do you have to be with her! It's not like Saiyans respect their Queens anyway," she snapped angrily.   
  
A thunderous expression crossed his face as he looked down at her, "You forget your place bitch," he hissed furiously, rolling off her shaking, fragile body. He sat up, placing his feet on the ground with his back facing her. She watched his profile dubiously as his shoulders shook from barely controlled rage.   
  
"Forgive me your highness, but I do not see how this arrangement could ever work out," she whispered quietly, "You will ascend your father's throne tomorrow, people will be watching your every move from that day forwards. It had to end someday." As hard as she tried, she couldn't hide the agony in her voice that dripped from every word she uttered.  
  
Rising quickly, she gathered the torn pieces of clothing littered by the foot of the large bed and steadily made her way towards the secret door that lay behind a floor-length tapestry of a Prince, killing his own father to ascend the throne... The throne of Vejiita-sei.   
  
"Bulma..."   
  
As she reached the door his quiet, enraged voice stayed her hand on the golden globe handle.   
  
"This arrangement will work out."   
  
The conviction in his voice made it seem as if he was trying to convince himself, not her...   
  
Without a backward glance, she sighed and closed the secret door behind her. Slowly, she made the long, arduous trek towards her own room in the servants' quarters, through the underground tunnels buried beneath the foundations of the ancient palace. This time tomorrow, she may never have the need to use these private tunnels again.   
  
As she moved forward, away from him and away from the accursed room, she felt as though he was holding on to the end of one of her essential fibres and that every step she took away from him was, bit by bit, unravelling her.

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They roared upwards into the night sky, howling like the untamed beasts that dwelled in the few forests of the arid planet. Burning beams of energy spilled out from their mouths, spiralling up into the cloudless sky in frenzied colors of yellow, orange and red. She watched them from afar, watched them pound their feet into the ground and scream with pure excitement and... Rage?   
  
Electric blue eyes travelled slowly towards the horizon, roaming over the dipping valleys and sand dunes. As the stars twinkled above, innocently framing the night sky. The moon stood proud and high amidst them; bathed in blood red, sending welcome beams of light to the dark planet below. Her ears rung as piercing wails tore into her ear drums, this time louder than before.   
  
Thousands of beastly silhouettes danced on the mountain tops in the distance, jumping from peak to peak as they roared and crumbled the rocky mountains into dust. She shivered as a gnawing fear and pain bubbled steadily in her chest. The time had come, where the new replaced the old. Where she would also no longer be needed by a certain Prince... Or King, should she say.   
  
They beasts were celebrating.   
  
Their Prince had ascended the throne.

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He stared ahead stoically, reciting the ancient words of his ancestors as the high priest stood in front of him, rubbing the blood of his dead father onto his forehead. Behind the priest burned a roaring, amber fire; the licking flames dancing to their own haunting melody as the priest chanted the ancient verses of their ancestors.   
  
In the background he could hear the roars and screams of the planet's citizens. They meant nothing to him. He tuned out the voracious noise, tilting his head slightly towards the scarred woman that stood upon the dais beside him. The newly crowned Queen of Vejiita-sei, stood tall and proud.   
  
For Saiyan standards, he supposed she was quite beautiful. Thick black hair fell down in jagged spikes, covering her toned and muscled back. Battle scars marred her firm, long arms and legs. Scars. A sign to be proud of in the Saiyan community.   
  
Her expression was resigned and aloof, her soft brown eyes glowing against the red beams of light from the moon, signifying the end of the sacred Red Moon festival... Yes, she was very beautiful indeed.   
  
Two piercing blue eyes filled his vision. He held his breath, the beat of his heart rising. They were forever emblazoned like a banner in his mind, a beacon of light he was forced to leave behind. He shook the eyes away forcefully trying to focus upon the brown-eyed woman beside him, wondering how it had come to this. How his life had become so fucking complicated.   
  
But still, he felt nothing. Only blissful numbness was wrapped around him, distinctly aware that the blood of his father coated his hands, and now his face. A brief lance of pain shot through him. He would no longer see his father, no longer be under his tutelage. He would no longer have his guidance.   
  
Vegeta took the sacrificial, jewelled knife from the priest's outstretched hand. With acute precision, he stepped forwards to the roaring fire beyond the priest. As the knife sliced through the palm of his right hand, the two cerulean eyes he had desperately tried to shake away, came into his vision once more.   
  
Only this time, as he let the blood from his palm drip into the large fire, they would not disappear.   
  
The priest turned him towards the thousands of Saiyans below surrounding the dais, cheering and chanting for the ascension of their new King.   
  
But as the symbol of pride and strength, his father's golden medallion, was placed around his neck; all Vegeta could see was a pair of pained, expressive blue eyes clouding his vision, and the roars and cheers from his people could do nothing to paint them away from his mind.   
  
It was done.   
  
He was now King, and there was no regret.

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AN: I needed to do this story because I needed something fresh. I'll be updating this weekly, so keep a look out for chapter one next Sunday.   
  
I hope you all liked the prologue . Please review and let me know what you thought of it!   
  
TO FANS OF OBSESSION:--   
  
Chapter 21 of 'Obsession' will hopefully be up this coming Saturday night. I'm still editing and revising, it's been a long haul so I thank all of you for your patience.   
  
--Heartless 


	2. Chapter One

**_NB--Check my bio for news on 'Obsession.'   
  
WARNING: This story contains R rated material; sex and swearing in this chapter._**

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**Chapter One.**

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She lay back on her single hard bed, staring morosely up at the stone ceiling. A wavering sigh fell from her lips as she counted the numerous cracks that weaved and dipped together, looking like black rivers against the tanned stone.The flame from the candle on top of the small dresser beside her bed flickered merrily as it cast evocative shadows on the surrounding walls.   
  
Everything was silent.   
  
Even the various deadly insects of the arid planet had disappeared that night. The country-side and mountains had most very likely been laid to waste that evening; it was a wonder that the planet still had many mountains to boast.   
  
The celebration of the Saiyan King's ascension had ended and thousands of Saiyans would probably all be sleeping from the exhaustion of their Red Moon transformations.   
  
She wondered... She wondered if he would be with her...  
  
Bulma snorted to herself as she felt the poisonous vines of jealousy tighten in her chest. They choked at her heart, squeezing until she was forced to sit up from the rarely used bed. She had always spent her evenings with him... It had always been her!   
  
She was never left alone in this room at night; she would always be seated in the lap of luxury with her Prince... But he was no longer a Prince now, was he? He was a mighty King. A King that would not defy the laws of his people. Not for her, not for anyone...   
  
She stood up, bracing herself against the cool stone wall.   
  
Unwanted memories threatened to engulf her, clawing at her skin as they tried to pull her back.   
  
But she wouldn't let them.   
  
Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and began counting slowly in her mind. She would not allow herself to remember. She could not.   
  
A change in the air alerted her to a new presence...   
  
She frowned, keeping her eyes closed as she turned and pressed her back fully into the wall. She could feel her body stick to the stone as the rivulets of perspiration dripped down her back. The humidity of the late night seemed to intensify with each passing second that her back was against the wall.   
  
As her eyes remained closed, her breath hitched in her throat. She felt a warm breath caressing her cheek and lips softly. An illustrious chill swept through her bones at the sight that greeted her as she fluttered her eyes open.   
  
A pair of glittering obsidian eyes hovered near her own, plunging into her soul like a sharpened dagger. She tilted her head slightly in confusion, brushing her lips softly against his with the movement.   
  
"What are you doing here?" She whispered urgently as she raised fingers to traverse the contours of his face. He looked so handsome... So regal.  
  
He grasped her hands and pinned them back against the wall.   
  
"The question is; why aren't you in my chambers?" His voice dripped with foreboding annoyance. His dark eyes flashing as he pressed his body fully against hers, trapping her against the sticky wall.   
  
Bulma frowned, tensing as her body responded to his. "I don't understand..."   
  
"You never do seem to understand anything," he growled as he shook his head, smirking to himself as he sniffed the tantalizing aroma of her scent that surrounded them like an alluring mist, "You were supposed to wait for my return. Why did you leave?" He demanded righteously, as stroked her inner thigh.   
  
She clenched her jaw shut, willing herself to ignore the hand that was travelling dangerously towards the apex of her thighs. She struggled against him as best she could, but her strength was nothing in comparison to his...   
  
"Stop it!" She heard herself hiss in a moment of desperation.   
  
He snarled, drawing her away from the wall to push her roughly back again. She winced as a tremor of pain lanced down her spine.   
  
Panic shot through her heart causing her breathing to increase, her chest heaving against his as he pushed his body tightly against her own shivering form.   
  
His soft lips came crashing down against hers, silencing her protests as his expert tongue forced its way into her mouth, igniting the passion that lay dormant in her stomach. She was lost to reason and thought as the calloused fingertips of his hands came into contact once more with her inner thigh, under the blue satin dress.   
  
As he forced her legs apart, her back arched against the wall. He removed his armor and plunged into her without preamble. She was lucky that Saiyans wore no underwear; the amount of times he had taken her unawares was too numerable to count... And this evening was no exception.  
  
A wave of smouldering fire engulfed her body, feeling his body move against hers in a steady rhythm. How long they had remained against the wall, she couldn't be certain. Her thoughts ceased to exist as he pushed her further back into the wall, raising her hips to join his in their fervor.  
  
But as the strokes grew deeper and desperate, she braced herself for the tidal wave of pleasure racing towards her. Finally, she gasped, her body stiffening as his voice rumbled into her mouth with a satisfied growl as they both came together in a blind torrent of lust.   
  
Her body shook with the aftermath and she was certain she would have fallen to the ground had it not been for his own body supporting her.   
  
The final remnants of pleasure were washed away and she groaned, pressing her forehead into his shoulder.   
  
"We... We sh--shouldn't have done that," she whispered brokenly against him as he held her against the wall.   
  
"And why do you say that?"   
  
She could sense the amusement in his voice.  
  
Her body sagged forwards as he removed himself from within her, "Because!! Because you're... You're--" she stopped, unable to find the words.   
  
"What is wrong with you woman?" He demanded icily, losing his former amusement. He forced her to look at him as she avoided his penetrating gaze.   
  
Bulma glared at him, focusing the anger, jealousy and hatred she felt, to tumble towards him.   
  
"You're bonded to another woman," she spat furiously, the strength slowly returning to her body, "And you ask me what's wrong? What the fuck do you think is wrong, King Vegeta?" She hurled the title insultingly at his face, her body trembling from the suppressed emotions.   
  
He pulled his body away from her, causing her to fall to her knees before him, "How many fucking times have we gone through this, bitch?" He cursed down at her, sneering at the pathetic display of her emotions.   
  
She raised her eyes to him, remaining on the cool floor.   
  
"Too many times," she responded quietly, her body still quivering from their joining.   
  
Her heart seized as she saw his sneer soften for a moment.   
  
What were they going to do? She wanted to deny him, but her body would always belong to him. Her body would always betray her... No matter how hard she tried to push away the truth; it would always be there.   
  
Bulma gingerly rubbed the base of her throbbing spine as she stood up slowly, meeting his gaze fully.   
  
His eyes flickered briefly towards the moving hand, before returning to her face, "Gather your things, I will meet you in my chambers," he said mutely, as if he was describing the structure of her room.   
  
He was not expecting her to respond and so he pulled on his armor once more and turned to leave the foul, small room.   
  
"What do you mean?" She stopped him with her hand and searched his face to see if he was lying... But she found only truth in his words.   
  
"I will not repeat myself, you heard me," he folded his arms impatiently.   
  
"But why?" She asked in exasperation.   
  
"You will be moving," he replied blandly ignoring her question and glancing around the room with a look of distaste upon his features.   
  
Bulma knew she was pushing her luck and his patience, but she revelled in the danger and so she spoke once more. "To where?" Her voice lowered to a husky pitch, catching the attention of the newly crowned King.   
  
Vegeta stopped his inspection of the room, noting the pleasant change in her demeanor. "To the second capital city, Tegev," he watched her face closely, but found that she was hiding her emotions well at present.   
  
"May I ask why I am being moved so far away?" The words she had spoken wavered slightly, showing him her discontent at the situation. So far away from the main palace... Far away from him.   
  
He growled, alerting her that she was treading on very thin ice, "For your protection," he snarled out through gritted teeth.   
  
Protection? Bullshit! Who was he trying to fool?   
  
"What if I don't want to leave?" Bulma cried, raising her voice, as she turned to look out of the small window of her room. She couldn't face him...   
  
She crossed her arms to mirror his stance as she gazed up solemnly at the dotted stars of the night sky.   
  
Dawn would be approaching soon.   
  
She could barely make out the faint rays of light expanding up from the horizon, noting the steady pounding of her anxiety in the hard, rhythmic beats of her heart.   
  
"You have no say in this decision!" Vegeta snapped as he stormed towards the small doorway. He titled his head, offering her a view of his chiseled profile, "If you are not ready within fifteen minutes, I will remove you personally from this disgusting place."   
  
The tone of his voice seemed to soften briefly, "You understand. You will do this woman, you must..."   
  
Bulma closed her eyes as the door clicked shut behind his retreating form. Yes, she understood. She understood perfectly.   
  
She shivered as the chill of the morning dawn replaced the humid heat.   
  
The tears that she had suppressed, pooled beneath her lashes. She had to leave because... Because she was in the way. He didn't want her to see the new Queen. He didn't want her to be near the main palace as he forced himself to conceive an heir to the throne of Vejiita-sei with that... That Saiyan witch.   
  
... She hated him! Why was he doing this to her? Why couldn't he just let her go..?  
  
Bulma furiously slammed the palms of her hands against the wooden window panes. "Fuck!" She murmured under her breath, still unwilling to break the quiet stillness that had fallen upon the planet, with her abrasive voice.   
  
She had always been in the way... Even in childhood.   
  
It was the same, where ever she went!  
  
Always the same.

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_She was a wild creature when they first brought her in.   
  
A tempestuous little girl, with a temper to rival any fierce Saiyan warrior. It was said that she had been found amongst a storm of blood and destruction.   
  
A sole survivor among the dead bodies of her kin. It was a mystery; they had found her weeping at the center of the maelstrom, covered from head to toe in blood.   
  
They say that she was lucky to be alive at all.   
  
A Saiyan fighter ship had spotted the lone space craft, floating harmlessly in Vejiita-sei's orbit. Their advanced satellites had not detected the ship; that was enough to rouse the suspicions of every Saiyan aboard the craft. It was there on the ship that they found the carnage.   
  
To this day, the cause of the devastation is still unknown.   
  
That was the reason the Saiyans took her and brought her down to their planet. They wanted to find out what had happened to her, what enemy had fallen upon the fateful ship and to know if the threat extended to their planet.  
  
But the little girl would not speak. She would not speak; only scream.   
  
Scream in her alien language.   
  
They say her screams brought the strongest of Saiyans to their knees.   
  
They would have thrown her off the planet, or simply killed her, had it not been for the simple fact that curiosity stayed their King's hand. That, and the beauty the child possessed.   
  
She was a creature far too beautiful to murder in cold blood, and so her fate had been decided, unknown to the civillians of Vejiita-sei. But there were still many unanswered questions.   
  
How was it that such a weak little creature had managed to survive? How was it that every single person on that ship had died, when she remained untouched? What had happened? What caused the destruction of the travelling space ship?   
  
The mystery was common news in the capital city of Vejiita-sei, but as time drew on, the little girl had vanished from the minds of the citizens, leaving the knowledge to carry on into myth as the years passed by;   
  
A forgotten memory. _

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**_AN_: Ah now this is interesting; who's the little girl? Could it be Bulma?   
  
I know not much happened in that chapter, I just wanted to establish Bulma and Vegeta's relationship and how they behave with one another. Plus I wanted you guys to get a feel for the compromising situation Bulma is in. She doesn't want to be Vegeta's mistress, but it is obvious she has no choice in the matter.   
  
As for my original decision about dealing with Bulma's past, I have decided to tell it (not by going from beginning to end, and not even with flashbacks) but through a time line running parallel with the present, so you will see how Bulma and Vegeta came together at different stages in this story. Confused? Don't be, it will be clearer in writing lol. Trust me, this plan involves less chapters and it's less time consuming.   
  
The reviews were awesome, thank you guys so much! It's nice to hear people's opinions, so thank you! Let me know if anything is bothering you with the story or you have a criticism, believe it or not, I take it very well . Well... Sometimes I do! :D   
  
Look out for a new chapter next Sunday.   
  
Until then, have a good week all you gorgeous people.   
  
--Heartless.**


	3. Chapter Two

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WARNING: _Rated R for sex and swearing._

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Khron---**Blue lady in Saiy-go (Saiyan language).**

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Chapter Two.

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_White numbers, letters and formations swirled around her as she stood in a deadly vortex, surrounded by them._

"Save yourself," a voice whispered to her.

She frowned.

Printed blue sheets of paper passed across her vision like a slide show, eventually culminating together in a tornado of indecipherable equations and incomprehensible formulas. The shards of metal objects, wires and strange tools that flew at her haphazardly started to toss and churn precariously in the hurricane of knowledge that she stood amidst.

The raspy, familiar voice murmured again into her ear;

"This is who you are..."

The equations and formulas slowly filtered through her brain, their hazy appearance becoming understandable, the more she concentrated on them.

Just when she thought she had grasped their concept, they began to fade away, like the changing seasons from somewhere, something... Earth.

This hissing voice spoke once more;

"Save yourself..."

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Bulma's eyes flew open in shock. Her shallow breathing resounded against the walls of the unfamiliar room she was to live in, until she was told otherwise.

She sat up slowly in the large comfortable bed, wiping away the silver trails of tears that slivered down her pale moonlit cheeks. She didn't know why she was crying... But the strange dream brought great sadness to her.

Even though the dream should have been frightening for her, oddly enough, she found it comforting... She found it familiar through the weighted sadness that pressed down upon her chest.

As she sat there in the large bed, Bulma wracked her brain, desperately trying to decipher the meaning of the words that had sped through her mind in their own whirlwind. They seemed so familiar to her...

What did they mean?!

Her frustration grew; rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she tried once more to bring meaning to the black and white words. She had seen them before, but she didn't know where. She was so close... So close to understanding them.

Earth... Earth...

Bulma shook her head, her cerulean locks tumbling from the loose bun on top of her head as she pressed her index fingers against her throbbing temples. What was Earth? Why couldn't she remember?!

In her anger, she threw off the surprisingly heavy silk covers and rose from the bed, looking dejectedly around in the dark at her elaborate sleeping room.

It had all been designed for her; courtesy of King Vegeta. It seemed that he had left no stone unturned when it came to the luxury of the villa he had sent her to, on the outskirts of the city Tegev.

She even had her own servants! She learned from _him_ that she was no longer required to perform servant duties, for which she was slightly grateful for. But if that job was taken away from her, then what did it leave?

The job of being _his_ mistress?

Was she to spend her life walking around the villa grounds in silence, never once doing anything that would make her feel accomplished or satisfied... Or even doing something that would save her from utter boredom.

But it was as if everything had been designed for her comfort, for her well-being... However, she found none in the three months that she had lived there.

Three months...

Three months of tossing and turning in her sleep, receiving strange dreams and wondering--wondering what _he _was doing, wondering if _he_ was with _her_.

It had been three long boring months since she had seen him; their last encounter taking place at her room in the servants' quarters, just after he had been crowned King.

When he had sent her to the villa in Tegev, he promised he would join her! And yet three deceptive months had passed and not a word came from him... Just what was he doing?

As if struck by lightening from the question, an epiphany came to her. She had not thought of this before; had not thought of the consequences of their actions.

This was no ordinary man she was mistress of, no worthless Elite or First-class Saiyan.

She was the mistress to a King... _A King_.

The thought frightened, excited and exhilarated her, for it was she who was placed upon this pedestal... By a _King_. If it was ever found out that she was his mistress--an alien, no less-- they would force him to renounce the throne or worse... Kill _her_ instead.

It was known to the entire population that Royalty did not dabble in affairs. They certainly had occasional trysts, but nothing as on going as the relationship that was present between herself and Vegeta... Could it even be called a relationship?

For three years they met together in silence, in the dead of night, and now he wanted to honor her with servants, luxuries and this expensive villa? He wanted the servants to know he was her master... _Her lover_?!

What if they spoke out? What if their secret was exposed...

If she wasn't careful, and they were caught, she would be killed. It would be her death, or his renouncing of the crown. Which she was certain he would never do.

Bulma clenched her jaw as she slid back into the soft covers. She refused to be placed in such a precarious position.

She had to find a way out... _She had to_.

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_Tegev_; the second Capital city of Vejiita-sei.

A city of commerce and trade, where everyone who was anyone had something to buy or sell.

The inner-city market was bursting with energy and activity from the various people that were scattered around in hives along the pavement.

Saiyans and aliens alike, milled about the sand covered pathways; some looking at the various meats, vegetables and herbs for their masters' pantry and others gazing longingly at the expensive pieces of clothing and accessories that were displayed proudly on the many market stalls, saddened that they would never be able to afford them.

Bulma lowered her head as she passed the various screaming, money wrangling merchants.

The royal blue velvet cloak around her shoulders signified her status; a high-ranking free servant and a Mistress. Her status indicated that although she already belonged to a master, she was held in high reverence and was to be treated accordingly by others that came into contact with her.

A grimace tugged at the corner of her lips.

Was there ever such a thing... A _free_ servant? How could you be free when you were forced to serve, to be _with_ another being for the rest of your life whom you had no feelings for aside from the sexual chemistry between your bodies...

She snorted, quietly agreeing with herself as she ignored the frenzied calls from a desperate merchant.

"Over here! Over here!" One purple, three-eyed merchant shouted at her.

"No, come and look at these lovely ribbons for you beautiful hair Madame!" Another green skinned man yelled, his eyes roaming over her cloak covered form.

She shook her head at them, frowning.

_Leeches_. All of them. Each one eager to make money... But weren't they out to survive like the rest of them?

It was true that the way in which Vejiita-sei was run, had changed greatly over the many years that passed.

Well-behaved, trusted servants were offered their freedom, not killed or cast away once their usefulness had passed, like they had been decades ago.

But what the completely free servants did after that, she did not know. It seemed as if they had just disappeared... In fact, even the low ranking servants seemed to disappear as well, never to be seen again.

That was a mystery that Bulma still had not solved.

The burning rays of the harsh sun beamed down upon her back, as she weaved expertly in and out of the many people clustered around one stall, all vying for a fair bid on the rotting carcass of meat.

The smell of perspiration and decay permeated the air and Bulma had to hold her breath as the various sweating bodies brushed by her, choking her from the odorous stench that circulated around the market.

She was new to this city and market, none knew her but she had been shown her way around by one of the servants at the villa. They knew she was new to the city, that she was a Mistress to a wealthy Saiyan Elite, they just didn't know _which _Saiyan. Luckily, her cloak hid her from prying eyes.

Bulma was uncomfortable in the setting and she didn't know why she felt the urge to come to the market but... She knew the dream she had the previous night played a great part in her curiosity...

As if by divine intervention, a glinting object from the corner of her eye, caught her attention. A steady smile curled its way upon her lips as she made her way to the stall that held her _precious cargo_.

* * *

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_"Mistress?"_

The soft, urgent voice from the doorway caused her to look up, away from the symbolic tattoo that was intricately inked upon the underside of her wrist, over the thin blue river of veins that protruded from the translucent skin of her arm.

She had been staring at the tattoo all evening, her eyes roaming over the swirled black pattern, formed from an ancient Saiyan script.

The tattoo symbolized who she was... A_ Mistress_, owned by and lover to a wealthy Elite. As with the cloak, every servant, every mistress, every alien that was not of Saiyan heritage had a different form of tattoo upon their wrist, indicating their status and worth.

Bulma sighed quietly; she had been a possession for most of her life, so why was it suddenly bothering her? The tattoo ranking her as a servant had been removed and in its place, this one had been created; this mesh of calligraphy and swirls signifying her status as a Mistress and lover to a high ranking Elite Saiyan soldier.

She forced herself to smile at the young, ruby-skinned woman standing patiently in the doorway of her sleeping chambers.

"What is it, Nena?"

An apprehensive look crossed the woman's face, her snow-white eyes shifting uncomfortably, "Forgive me for disturbing you, Mistress but _Master_ has arrived and he is waiting for you in the dining chamber."

Bulma blanched.

Three months, not a word and suddenly he decided to appear! Her cobalt eyes slidi towards the chest of drawers she had left open. If he saw what she had bought what would she tell him? She had no explanation to give... Instead of allowing her worries to show, a watery smile cracked the solemn look on her pale face.

"Thank you, tell him I will be there shortly," she remarked, waving the younger woman away. She had to put her _precious cargo_ in a safe place!

Nena offered a small comforting smile in return, she could see the anxiety in the beautiful woman's features. She knew her Mistress did not wish to be in this situation. After all... Everyone wanted their freedom.

The servants of the villa knew the identity of the Saiyan man who had been charmed by the blue-haired enchantress. But they were loyal and bound by honor, and they swore never to tell. It was said that they would all be rewarded greatly for the compliance and what servant wouldn't want that?

Still... Nena felt pity for the beautiful woman, destined to most likely spend her life in subordination to another being. _She would probably never know freedom_.

She curtsied before leaving the woman to her own devices, to prepare herself for her Master and... _Lover_.

* * *

Bulma flattened the silk, sky blue dress down her curvaceous hips. In a last desperate moment she touched the soft tendrils of her cerulean hair that had been curled expertly, falling down in a feathery halo around her face.

Nervous springs coiled in her stomach as she stepped into the darkened dining chamber, glowing gently from the various lighted candles that sat at the center of the long, rectangular table.

The shadow seated at the end of the table, moved forward as she entered the room.

Dark shadows from the burning flames of the candles danced across his angular features, offering a sinister image of the man she belonged to. She breathed in deeply, taking in his appearance after three long months.

_**Gods!**_

_He was so handsome..._

Quite probably the most handsomest King to ever reign over Vejjita-sei. _And he was all hers_.

She slowly took her seat at the opposite end of the long table and waited for the food to be brought in by the kitchen staff.

As soon as she settled down into her seat, his rusty, dulcet voice spoke out to her, "Are you well?"

Bulma looked up from the table, startled by his question. He almost never asked how she was doing! In reward for his question, she offered him a beautiful, slow smile; secretly pleased when she noticed the glimmer of recognition and awe in his eyes that her smile had evidently caused.

"I am well," she replied softly, "I have just missed _you_," she added slowly, sending a coy glance in his direction. The muscles in her stomach and loins tightened involuntarily as his darkened gaze swept over her.

It wasn't a complete lie.

She had missed the pleasure he evoked in her body, she had missed the way he would make her scream out in pleasure when they joined but never--_never _had she missed _him._ Never had she missed his selfish character; it was all about the pleasure and stability he offered her.

His raspy chuckle echoed hauntingly around the large dining chamber, causing tendrils of desire to enflame around her body.

It had been so long...

"You lie, woman!" He exclaimed knowingly, albeit with amusement.

Bulma laughed in response, "You have caught me then," she joked, secretly meaning the words.

He paused in his banter, glancing at her face for a few moments before speaking, "Yes... It seems I have."

If Bulma had just been slightly more attentive, she would have noticed the dangerous lilt in his voice as he spoke, but she remained oblivious to it all.

As platters upon platters of aromatic food was bought in, they sat in silence until the food had been served out and they were alone once more.

Bulma forced a fork full of red meat into her mouth; he seemed to have no problem with eating the many sumptuous dishes.

She shifted under his scrutinizing gaze, somewhat uncomfortable by the sudden attention his obsidian eyes were paying her.

"And how are you?" She asked, once she had swallowed the tasteless morsel of meat. In truth, she wanted to know more about the Queen...

Had they copulated their marriage yet? Had an heir been conceived? But the questions that were poised upon her lips died as they tried to voice themselves. She didn't want to know... She didn't want to feel the jagged vines of jealously grow within her once more like they had three months ago.

Not after all the time she had spent trying to dispel them. If she felt nothing for him, then why was she so jealous of his bonded _mate_? She should be glad, she should not have to worry herself over _that_ woman's influence over _him_... But she was.

Bulma peered into the unreadable mask of his face until Vegeta looked away from her and grunted his response, indicating to her that their small-talk was over.

She sighed quietly to herself, shrugging. She should have known by now... He wasn't much for long conversations and if truth be told, she really was not in the mood to converse with him.

Instead, she tried to focus her energy on forcing the meaty food down her throat.

* * *

The rest of the meal was uneventful, until they both retreated to the largest sleeping chamber of the villa.

Bulma was thankful he had not decided to join her in her room, for he would have surely caught her _precious parcel _and demanded answers she was unable to give.

As soon as they entered the spacious chamber, his hands tugged at the delicate straps of her silk dress, ripping the material away until she was left naked before his greedy, dark eyes.

Apprehension bubbled within her.

Was this right?

He was bonded to another! Surely this was _wrong_... Three months ago she knew it had been wrong but--but after not joining with him in such a_ long _time, she felt her body craving him like an enticing drug, maddening her with the need to feel him inside of her body, moving against her in a rhythmic devotion...

Bulma smiled mischievously and pushed away the threatening, doubtful thoughts as flames of desire licked at her sweat-sheened body. She clasped her tiny hands around his thick wrists and led him towards the large, round bed at the center of the room.

She pressed her lips against him softly and slowly, urging his wandering hands to slow down in their pursuit. Her tongue slid cautiously into his mouth, exploring the heated void as she battled, nipped and licked against his own tongue; each moment that passed, filling her with purified passion.

As she pulled her lips away and kneeled on the bed before him, a triumphant grin spread across her face at the dangerous sparks of lust that were ignited within his dark, promising eyes.

He still wanted her.

The three months had done nothing to diminish either of their desire for one another. _Everything was as it had been before._

Bulma lay back, slowly pulling his heaving body on top of her on. She was ready for him, she had been for three months.

He looked down at her pale face, smirking. A wicked gleam in his eyes alerted her to the enormous restraint he was placing upon himself. If it had not been for her desire to move slowly, he would have taken her by now.

She could sense that his restraint was waning, and so she brought his head down and placed an impassioned kiss upon his lips.

A growl erupted from his mouth, trembling its way down the cavern of her own throat.

She shivered as she slowly began removing the heavy armor that covered his muscled and toned body. His shoulders shook beneath the touch of her soft hands and she revelled in the power that she commanded over his body.

"Tonight..." she breathed softly against his lips, looking up into his endless obsidian eyes, "_Tonight_... Is _my_ night, my King."

His hands languidly travelled the contours of her naked body, bringing her to life and she smiled as her statement was awarded with an animalistic chuckle, "Very well, my _Khron_, it shall be as you desire."

Without further delay, Bulma felt their bodies clash together in unadulterated, uninhibited passion as he plunged into her. He rode her slowly, painfully bringing her closer and closer to the precipice of pleasure. She bucked under the laboriously slow pace, moaning softly into his ear as he gripped her hips and drove deeper into her.

"Vegeta..." His trembling name fell from her lips over and over again, until she could take no more and was pushed over the edge, crying out his name again as thousands of speckled stars exploded under her eye lids.

Her own cry was drowned out by the deeply satisfied rumble that burst forth from his throat.

They collapsed together in a tangled mass of limbs, panting heavily.

Bulma stared up at the ceiling in shock. As the rolling waves of pleasure dimmed, a satiated smile spread across her face.

The night was still young... _It would be hours before they tired of one another._

* * *

Bulma looked towards the floor-length window of the beautifully large room. She sighed as the first red rays of Vejiita-sei's sun began to filter through the glass and gauze curtains.

Her gaze travelled over to the silent Saiyan, quietly catching his breath from their last round of mating.

_She grinned to herself_.

They had taken pleasure in one another all through the night, not once stopping for rest. The three months apart had done them wonders.

As his breathing slowed down, he turned his black, bottomless eyes upon her. They swept swiftly over her trembling body, until a gratified smirk formed on his lips.

Bulma couldn't help but chuckle; he looked so... _Satisfied_. They both were...

"When will you be leaving?" She asked softly, her voice slightly broken from the cries of pleasure that had been torn from her throat during the night.

He sat up abruptly, casting a glance towards the window at the rising red and orange beams of sun that streamed through the billowing curtains.

"Now," he replied curtly, stepping out of the bed in all of his naked glory.

He turned to Bulma as he slowly dressed himself.

She pouted at him, earning a throaty chuckle from the amused King.

"Do you have go?" She pleaded, forcing her eyes to glimmer and become enlarged. She knew he could never refuse her eyes anything.

Vegeta growled at her, "I have to go," he mumbled, looking down, away from her enchanting eyes as he clasped the chest plate shut. If he flew now, he could return to the palace without anyone knowing his whereabouts; without anyone smelling the scent of his little _Khron_ on him...

She sighed, looking away with dejection and annoyance.

He looked at her saddened face before adding slowly, "I will return shortly, at the end of the week. I will stay longer then, once a treaty has been signed with an allied planet."

Bulma looked up at him, brushing away the soaking strands of blue hair that stuck to her cheeks and forehead, "Promise?" She whispered, knowing that after last night, another three months without his body would be _torture_.

Vegeta smirked, "Yes _Khron_, it is a promise."

She rose from the bed and walked slowly towards him, sashaying her hips in rhythm with an unheard beat and melody. Rising to her toes, she brushed her lips delicately over his, "Seal it with a kiss?" She murmured, slowly wrapping her arms around his corded, muscled neck.

He growled and roughly kissed her, pulling her body flush against his. But as soon as the kiss had begun, Bulma ripped her lips from his and slowly pushed him towards the doorway. Before he stepped out, he took a velvet pouch from the hidden pocket in his armor and pressed it into her palm.

"For you," he stated abruptly, turning away from her and stalking down the winding, marble hallway the led to the front doorway of the villa.

Bulma leaned against the door frame, frowning as she examined the velvet pouch. She turned away, closing the door behind her as she padded towards the large bed.

Without thought or hesitation, she dumped the velvet pouch on the bed without opening it and slowly made her way to the washing chambers.

His scent was all over her.

* * *

"Momma look!"

She screamed at the top of her lungs as her father lifted her from the ground, twirling her around in the air. "I can fly!" She shouted.

Her parents laughed at her.

The warm, welcoming sunshine beamed down upon her face as a gentle breeze blew through her short cerulean locks.

Her father placed her down again and held her hand as they ran towards a strangely domed building together, laughing and giggling like two conspirators.

Her smile widened as she caught sight of her mother sitting beneath the shade of the nearby tree. She skipped over, humming her favorite nursery rhyme as she settled herself in her mother's lap.

"Tell me a story Momma," she mumbled under breath, wriggling in her mother's grasp.

Her mother laughed in delight, "Don't you want to have your nap sweetheart?"

"No," she replied stubbornly.

"Very well," her mother chuckled and stroked the top of her head. She could see her father sitting to the side, enjoying the cool breeze that was offered from the shaded tree. He winked at her as he rummaged through a basket of delicious food.

"Once upon a time," her mother began softly, "There was Prince and young girl..."

The voice of her mother began to slowly fade away and although she tried desperately to stay awake... She just couldn't.

* * *

Bulma's head lolled to one side, startling her awake.

It seemed as if she had fallen asleep whilst reading a book in the sun room patio of the villa. After Vegeta had left she had simply taken a bath and decided to rest for the entire day; she needed to catch up if she was ever to be ready for him by the end of the week.

The velvet pouch he had given her had been tossed into a chest of drawers in her room. He gave her a velvet pouch filled with a treasure every time he felt guilty... She had stopped looking in them, for the sheer fact that she couldn't care less what he gave her. And so they lay forgotten in her private chambers at the bottom of one of her drawers.

She frowned... She could hear urgent voices whispering down the hall, slowly rising in their temper, behind the closed doors of a servant's quarter. She wondered what could have caused such urgency in the voices.

Curiously, she rose form the comfortable chair and softly walked down the marble hall to the door where the voices came from.

Bulma stopped in front of the door and gently pressed her ear to it. A look of surprise came over her as she heard Nena's voice and what seemed to be her mother's, a wonderful cook in the villa.

"Are you sure this is all the credits you can gather?" the voice of the mother lowered to a whisper.

"Yes, but it's not enough! If we want to leave on the space craft by the beginning of next year we need to pay more credits to the pilots of the ship!"

"I know, I know!"

"I will have to work in a brothel, part time," Nena's voice sounded regretful.

"No!"

"But mother, it's the only way we can get off this planet and be able to go **home**."

The mother sighed, _"We will have to find another way. The ship doesn't leave until next spring, that leaves us with some time to gather enough credits for tickets away from this planet."_

"Think mother, this time next year we will be home!" Nena's voice took on a soft, dreamy quality.

Bulma's hand slipped and thudded against the door. The two voices stopped speaking, fearfully aware that they were caught.

She gasped quietly, her heart thudding against the cage of her ribs. A ship? Leaving Vejiita-sei? Next Year? It was then that she realized--realized that _this_ was her chance.

_"Save yourself..."_ The voice from her reoccurring dream spoke softly into her mind.

But could she leave Vegeta and the pleasure he offered her?

**Yes.**

_She could._

* * *

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AN: **So the plot thickens! What is this mystery space ship and the formulas Bulma is dreaming of? You can find out in the next chapter!**

_**Next chapter :**---You will see more, this time from Vegeta's point of view! And finally be introduced to the Queen._

**I know it's not Sunday, but fanfiction.net is doing maintenance and so I thought it would be better if I updated this now rather than on Monday; I'm a woman of my word!!**

-holds hand up for a high five which no one returns-

No one? Oh well... lol.

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	4. Chapter Three

WARNING: R rated, so you know what that means.

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Khron---**Blue lady in Saiy-go (Saiyan language).**

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Chapter Three.

* * *

She froze as the door opened to reveal the two women standing at the center of the room, trembling as they stood beneath Bulma's stern glare. Uninvited, she marched into the room and closed the door behind her.

"_Mistress-?_" Nena said softly.

Bulma held her hand up, ordering Nena to stop speaking. She glanced at the younger woman's mother before speaking, "You will tell me, _truthfully_, what exactly you were speaking of," she demanded quietly.

Mother and daughter looked at one another in hesitation.

"Tell me," Bulma reiterated harshly, her heart pounding from the excitement and anxiety of the prospects both women had been previously discussing.

Nena nodded in compliance, "We will tell you everything, Mistress, but please do not punish us," her slender frame trembled as Bulma's cold eyes swept over her.

"I never said anything about punishment," Bulma replied calmly, "Now... _Tell me_."

* * *

He glared at the holographic projection of Vejiita-sei's galaxy as it beamed softly at the center of the marble table.

Under his grandfather's and father's rule, the entire galaxy of Quorton had been conquered by the Saiyans. In the past, planets had fallen at their feet, under the treaty of strength the Saiyans imposed.

They would freely give their souls if it meant protection from space pirates, rebel forces and any other enemies that may befall them, as long as they were willing to submit to foreign rule under Vejiita-sei's name and laws.

His gaze shifted as the image changed into another galactic constellation, most probably belonging to the southern quadrant of the universe in his mind's eye.

"This is the Avar galaxy, your highness."

Vegeta nodded to the Saiyan councillor that had spoken. Bora was his name, a trustworthy Saiyan by his father's account and loyal to the throne. The scar-faced councillor stood tall and proud. His lengthy jet black spikes that were tied together at the nape of his neck, bristled as he motioned towards the holographic image.

Vegeta's charcoal eyes flickered with anticipation.

"This particular galaxy contains fifty solar systems, that is four hundred planets in total," Bora continued, "Your father's plan of expanding the Empire was to start here, in Avar. The different planets have many resources, they are rich in fertile land and all are ore laden, which has been foundering on Vejiita-sei since the industrial movement; it would be wise to start here."

"Then we shall do as he wished," Vegeta replied softly. As he closed his eyes for a brief moment, he could barely sense the residual aura of his father's ki warming the room, even three months on after his death.

After ascending the throne, Vegeta hadn't known it would be so difficult to maintain an Empire. He was responsible for billions of people but in turn, Vejiita-sei would prosper greatly. And that was what he wished, to see his father's legacy live on through the Saiyan people.

"However," Bora added, his stern voice cutting through Vegeta's wandering thoughts, "The planets are under the rule of another warrior race, the Torgons of the Tarna solar system; their home planet is Rishan-sei. It could prove difficult to manouver our way into the fold and deal with them, they are a heavily armed race and are in favor with the other systems for their diplomacy."

Vegeta grunted shook his head.

He despised politics.

"If it proves difficult then we shall simply have to purge their planet and make an example of them," he growled, looking around at the nodding heads of the other councillors and advisors of the Royal court, that had been sitting silently around the large table. "What is their fire power? Are they weaklings with weapons or a ki-faring warrior race like ours?"

Bora sat back in his chair, gently massaging the throbbing vein in his temple.

Their new King seemed to be foolhardy and hasty in the months after his father's demise, but he had been taught by the best tutors strategical tutors Vejiita-sei had to offer...

"It seems to be both, your highness," he answered softly, "Their ki-levels are substantial but nothing a second-class or Elite, or even an upper level third-class couldn't handle. They depend and hide mostly behind their weapons, either they are lazy or the are ingenious in their battle tactics; I would not know."

Vegeta snorted, "It is pitiful. They are a warrior race and they hide behind machinery... What a joke."

A round of agreeing murmurs erupted from the other councillors.

"So be it," he continued balefully, his gaze roaming the faces of the Saiyan councillors, "It has been decided in this court that the sons of Vejiita-sei shall pay a little visit to Rishan-sei in the hopes of an alliance. If they do not submit to our rule, we will take their Empire by force."

Not a word of protest had come from the other councillors and so Vegeta concluded his business was finished. "Bora, you will be in command of leading this treaty and the troops to Rishan-sei," he added as an after thought, "Send word to them of our arrival, but only after you have entered their solar system. We don't want these fuckers getting any ideas," he grinned menacingly at the nodding councillor.

Bora and the rest of the council members stood from their seats, "As you wish, your highness," he said, bowing slowly.

Vegeta rose from his richly coloured, velvet chair and risked a glance towards the sinking sun of Vejiita-sei. All thoughts of Rishan-sei fled from his mind as his eyes danced around the fiery red and purple hue of the sky that was painted above the horizon of rolling valleys.

He had told _her_ he would return at the end of the week... Clearing his throat, he looked at the silent councillors and dismissed them form his presence with a flick of his wrist.

He had more pressing matters to attend to.

* * *

Vegeta frowned as he tugged at the constrictive chest plate of his armor. He would have to change before he left for the villa in Tegev. He couldn't go to her smelling like one of the rancid beasts that hid in the forests of Vejiita-sei.

As he stormed his way through the wide stone halls of the Imperial palace towards his chambers, he couldn't help but smirk. Tonight would be _his_ night. It was her turn to repay him for their last encounter. With that thought, a gnawing sense of anticipation burned in the lining of his stomach.

The very thought of her sent his blood to boil.

The double doors of his chambers loomed before him as he approached, his bronze-tipped boots making no sound as he approached.

As he reached for the golden hoops to open the doors, they swung inwards of their own accord and revealed... Vejiita-sei's Queen.

The brown-eyed woman bowed before him, her spiked ebony locks falling forward to cover the expression of her face, "My lord," she mumbled.

Her voice was thick, deep and rich, like many of the Saiyan women on Vejiita-sei.

But--but it was not _hers_. It did not have the same lilt, the same twinkle...

In her posture Vegeta could see the noble blood she was born from as she rose from her bow and moved to the side.

He stalked past her, acknowledging her with a grunt. As his eyes travelled towards the bed at the center of the room, he frowned.

"Where are the freshly washed clothes that were to be laid out for me?" He demanded, turning to face her silent form.

The Queen turned as she closed the patterned, oak doors behind her. She frowned, "I had a servant put them away," she answered in confusion.

Vegeta growled quietly, "I need them, fetch them for me."

The Queen's eyes flickered with an unknown emotion before she bowed and walked silently towards the antique closet on the far side of the room. She returned with his washed clothes and presented them to him, "And where do you expect to be wearing these, your highness?" She murmured gently, looking into his eyes with a sordid determination.

"Do not question me on this _Cerna_, it is not your place," he replied softly, emphasizing her name in a dangerous manner.

Cerna looked away in defeat, "We have been bound for over three months and only three times have you remained in these chambers. What would you expect of me, _my King_, if I did a ask few questions regarding your whereabouts," she spat quietly.

Vegeta ignored the blatant lack of respect in her voice and simply asked, "Are you with child yet?"

There was a lengthy pause before she answered.

"Yes," she whispered, taking a deep breath as she fixed her chocolate brown eyes upon his hard ebony stare. She was a Saiyan woman, she would not be intimidated by her stronger counterpart... Not if she wanted to keep her honor and pride intact.

Vegeta nodded sharply, "_Then our work is done_," he said slowly as he started to strip naked from his armor.

Cerna watched him bitterly, moving to sit at the end of the bed. She absently ran a calloused hand across her lower stomach, "Who is she?" She asked suddenly towards his turned back. She frowned as she saw the hardened muscles of his back tense and coil like tightened springs, ready to snap.

He froze as she asked the question. Quickly pulling the dark blue cotton corded trousers over his hips, he turned to face her, his face masked with hidden rage, "How did you know?" He snarled, thundering towards her like a predator.

She scrambled backwards on the bed as he moved towards her, "I--I could smell her when we mated; _she's in every pore, every breath of your body_... She is not Saiyan, is she?"

Cerna gasped as he threw her down upon the bed. She grasped the fingers of the hand that came around her throat, tightening with deadly intent.

"I'm warning you for the last time Cerna," he growled into her face, pinning her beneath him, "We will not speak of this again, do I make myself clear?" He sneered at her, hissing into her ear as an unsteady rage trickled into the depths of her eyes as she looked up at him; trapped for eternity in this mad King's pursuit.

She nodded and found herself coughing and rubbing her throat as he released her roughly. Her lithe form trembled with barely controlled rage, but she knew it would be fruitless to attack him. His strength was... Godly at best.

No royal Prince of Vejiita-sei had ever been as strong as him at birth... She knew he wouldn't kill her, he _needed_ her. But she couldn't help but feel indignation at the idea that he would continue to bed another woman after they had been bound together as mates. After she was _pregnant_ with the heir of Vejiita-sei.

The rage that had engulfed her receded and she numbly watched him fly out through the large open windows of _their_ chambers, in the burning blaze of his blue aura, not even offering her a cursory glance before he left...

* * *

Bulma stared at the various velvet pouches she had acquired. They sat quietly at the bottom of her chest of drawers, unopened and disregarded for. She licked her lips slowly, fingering the velvety contours of the small pouches. Nena and her mother had explained everything... Everything about the ship and what it entailed.

It would be her ticket to freedom. Away from this monotonous life, away from jealousy...

Away from _him_.

* * *

Vegeta snarled at himself as he flew over the snow peaked mountains. The chill of the air slowly doused the burning temper that had been enflamed within. How could he have been so foolish? He should have known that as his mate, Cerna would be able to smell the scent of another on his body. She was not an idiot...

He clenched his fist, slowly lowering his speed and altitude over the icy peaks.

No matter, he reasoned with himself, what was done could not be undone.

Vegeta closed his eyes, allowing the cool air to stroke his face as he flew between the treacherous mountains. This part of Vejiita-sei was always cold; it soothed him.

"_She's in every pore, every breath of your body..._" Cerna's accusing voice echoed through his ears.

He growled, shaking the voice away as he flew towards the city of Tegev, towards his villa...

Towards his _Khron_ and away from Cerna.

* * *

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AN: Next chapter will be Bulma's encounter with Vegeta, where she finds out Cerna is pregnant. It's just more incentive for Bulma to leave isn't it? You'll also find out how she plans to leave Vejiita-sei. with the help of Nena and her mother. And keep an eye on the Rishan-sei development, Vegeta has big plans for the Empire and it only fuels fire between himself and Bulma when she learns what he is planning for the Torgon warriors (which you will learn more about in later chapters.

I won't be updating next Sunday as I'm going to Boston, but another chapter will be up the week after that, so until then, take care everybody!

Thank you for your reviews as well, they are wonderfully supportive and I love them!


	5. Chapter Four

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**_AN:_** _I am back!_

  
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**_WARNING_**: _Rated R, slight lime/lemon in this chapter. _

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**Chapter Four.**

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	6. Chapter Five

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WARNING: _Rated R for language and sexual content i.e. mild lemon/lime._

Khron---**Blue Lady** **in Saiy-go (my version of the Saiyan language).**

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Chapter Five.

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It was the nausea. Gods, the damn nausea!

She couldn't take it anymore--it was driving her to break the last straw of sanity she possessed. Ever since Vegeta had returned to the Capital, she had been feeling sick repeatedly. She had merely dismissed the illness, blaming it on the change of climate.

Summer was fast approaching, which meant that a number of the population who were not born on the planet, experienced violent heat flashes and on going nausea throughout the summer months due to the lack of water and fresh vegetation offered in their diets.

Bulma groaned, "Fucking weather," she was distinctly aware of the comforting hand rubbing her back as she kneeled over the marble wash basin. She stood shakily, batting the ruby hand away rudely.

"Mistress?"

She winced as Nena's concerned voice lanced through her mind.

"I'm fine," the hoarse reply fell softly from her pale, quivering lips.

Nena's brow furrowed in suspicion, "Here," she said gently, offering the blue haired woman a glass of _sumaki_ milk, "This will help to dispel the acid in your throat," she added, watching as the beautiful woman downed the glass in one gulp.

"May I be so bold as to suggest something, Mistress?"

Bulma frowned, brushing away her sweaty cerulean locks from her forehead, "What is it?"

Nena cleared her throat, "I think that these heat flashes and spells of nausea you're experiencing isn't because of the climate changes. It may be because," she blushed, "Well--you might be with child..."

She blinked at the snow white eyes shifting uncomfortably under her scrutinizing gaze.

The full force of Nena's words hit her like a lightning bolt from a darkened, thunderous sky. The rumbling thunder of apprehension trembled in her veins. She had been aware that neither Nena or her mother had not yet experienced any hot flashes... But--But...

"No, you're wrong," a tremor of fear shook her body as she took a step backwards from the ruby-skinned woman.

Could she be?

"This can't be happening!" Bulma cried, shaking her head violently. "This... This cannot happen!" She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed... Prayed that Nena's hypothesis was untrue. Had she forgotten to take her contraceptive medicine? Yes... She must have. But--how could she have been so stupid! Her pale hand fluttered to her stomach, resting delicately upon the flat plane. Nena was wrong! She had to be...

"Go to the market and see if you can find a reliable test," she commanded urgently, "We will settle this matter pending on the result of this test."

Nena nodded and quickly turned to leave.

"If I am pregnant... He's going to kill me," Bulma whispered to herself as the painted world around her faded into black.

-

-

The rustle of leaves from behind alerted her to another presence.

She stood up quickly on the boulder beneath the slowly trickling fall of water from the cliff above, whirling around with a practised speed and agility. Her eyes widened in shock at the sight of the Saiyan Prince she had tended to the previous night.

But--how had he recovered so quickly?! She was certain that his wounds were deep and would take weeks to heal. But here he was, standing before her, looking completely healed! Perhaps she had been wrong to tend to him. He truly looked like a dangerous, wild beast at that moment...

They stared at one another for what seemed like a lifetime to her, but was merely seconds as he tore his eyes from her to drink in the appearance of the spectacular view that her naked body offered. She watched the corner of his lip quirk upwards to the heavens in amusement.

A furious blush stained the peaks of her high cheek bones as she frantically jumped off the boulder, into the murky depths of the slowly flowing azure river.

She swam steadily towards the bank where he now stood beside the rags of her clothing, waiting for her. A shiver erupted from the base of her spine as she felt his penetrating gaze locked on her hidden form beneath the rolling waves of water from the river.

As she reached the bank, she stopped before his feet and looked up fearlessly, wondering why the merchants and traders had been afraid of this young Prince. True, his demeanor held superiority and poise, and an air of deadly intent seemed to be resting upon his shoulders but... But he was awfully small for Saiyan standards. However, he was a small man with such a large presence!

Bulma suppressed a giggle but choked on her internal laughter as he quickly crouched down before her.

She jerked back warily at the sudden movement, eyeing his out stretched hand suspiciously.

"Well?" he growled.

The word did not make any sense to her. It had been spoken in his language, and so she frowned up at him in confusion before gently placing her own hand into his calloused one. Even though his hand was rough, it was warm and inviting and--it caused a multitude of ripples to accumulate at the base of her stomach. She gasped as he abruptly pulled her out in one fluid motion, pulling her quivering, wet body towards him.

A strangled cry burst forth from her mouth as she desperately tried to tug her hand back, to no avail. Gods, how strong was he?! She knew that the Saiyans were a warrior race but to possess such a great amount of strength could not lead to any good deeds...

"Let go!" She shouted, one of the few common words she knew how to say. She had been taught them when she'd served a Saiyan diplomat's family, who lived within close approximation of the King's palace. It was known that Saiyan men almost always took a fancy towards the servant girls they acquired. Some were even known to have died whilst being raped. It was what she feared the most; that it would happen to her.

"So, this mystical being before me actually speaks?" He smirked sadistically and he fingered the sharp contours of her cheek bone, chuckling as she withdrew from his ministrations in clear disgust.

She watched helplessly as he ran the pad of his thumb across the bridge of her nose, running it down from her forehead to the pointed tip, tapping it softly as one would do to a child.

It was as if--as if he were trying to imprint the lines and indentations of her face in his mind, committing them to memory... But why? There was a strange gleam in his obsidian eyes and it glittered like a shooting star falling from the heavens. She forced herself to remain still; it was useless to struggle, she was powerless against him.

Please let go of me, she thought fearfully.

Her plea was granted as he blinked and roughly pushed her away, awakening himself from the supposed trance he had been cast under. She frowned as he began to mumble, it was as if he was berating himself for something; but what? She certainly hadn't done anything. If anyone should be angry, it was her. Wasn't he the one who had ogled her naked body?

Her eyes shifted to the pile of animal skin clothes to her right. They were too far away, but now would be the perfect opportunity for her to escape. A raging debate formed in her mind as she looked at the Saiyan and back at her clothes. There was no time, she would have to come back for them later.

As he continued to berate himself, she rushed passed him and ran into the green depths of the forest, not once looking back. From behind her, she could her his surprised and angry shout as she zipped through the tall trees, desperately trying to seek out a hiding place. If he found her, he would kill her; of this, she was certain.

-

-

"This is great," he muttered to himself, "Stuck with a foul-smelling, weakling of a whore that can't even understand what I'm saying!"

But his words were meaningless.

Foul-smelling? She smelled divine! Like the scented yellow and white lilies that grew on the vines of the jungle forest. So sweet and musky, fresh and cool like the flower, all rolled into one. She must use the lilly's sap as her soap, he concluded. Gods, he never knew how much he actually liked the smell; may his father forgive him for sounding like a weakling! It was enticing and alluring--what sane man on the planet could resist? He certainly couldn't.

As his primal instincts began to come into full force, he had to pull himself away from her wet, naked body for fear of claiming her then and there. And a whore? Who was he trying to fool? Her scent indicated that she had never... Never in her life--exactly how old was she? She barely looked over twenty-five. It was endearing to think that a beautiful creature like her hadn't been soiled by male hands. Perhaps he could--

He blinked. But--how had she managed to survive in the wilderness? It looked like she had been living in the area for years. He concluded that she must nto be as weak as he originally thought but... She certainly felt fragile when he held her in his arms. The weak structure of her delicate bones was enough to indicate her strength, but as his father always told him; looks can be deceiving.

He was roused from his thoughts as he felt a slight shift in the air around him. Before he could register what was occurring, he found himself watching her retreating back disappearing into the dark depths of the forest. For a moment, he watched her swaying cerulean locks dance back and forth against the wind, before she vanished completely into the thick foliage.

Vegeta snarled loudly.

That bitch! After his benevolence in releasing her, she repays him by running away?!

Without a second thought towards the gaping wound in his side, he took off after her. After all, his honor was at stake; once again he had let his guard drop and he would be damned if he was going to be beaten twice in one week; especially by an alien woman! His pride and honor would be diminished if he didn't punish her.

Vegeta caught up with the pathetically slow creature in a matter of seconds. In his boiling blind rage, he tackled her to the ground, disregarding her frailty as he pinned her naked body down beneath him onto the green mossy grass. She cried out in pain, but her cry reached deaf ears. "You think you can outsmart me!" He screamed, snarling as he straddled her struggling body, "Do you know who I am, bitch? DO YOU KNOW?! I am the Prince of all Saiyans, strongest in the universe! I'll have your fucking head for this, disobedient wench!"

He raised his hand to smash a thundering smack against her cheek, baring his teeth as he did so. At the last moment, instinct told him to hold back his strength as his palm connected with the bone of her cheek.

In the next moment, horror coiled around his chest as the sound of a loud snap and crack reached his ears. His heavy breathing slowed to a gentle rasp as the seconds slowly ticked by. She wasn't moving, not a sound came from her mouth.

Vegeta stared in dumb shock at the unconscious, limp woman beneath him. She looked like a broken toy as she lay under his heavy body, as if she had been discarded by an angry child. He crouched backwards onto the balls of his feet, watching her as the forest around him suddenly grew quiet. The chirping of insects faded into the thick atmosphere of silence; his only reaction was to watch her... She looked--dead. Perhaps he had been too rough?

But... But he held back! He--he had only used a fraction of his strength! How in God's name was it possible for her to be hurt so badly by him? A trickle of guilt entered his mind unknowingly. He brushed it away as he looked around at the dense forest. Looking back at the broken woman, he shook his head and reached out gingerly, using his index finger to turn her head so that he could inspect the damage he had caused upon her left cheek.

He winced internally; at least she was breathing.

A bluish, round bruise was already forming in the aftermath of his attack. It looked angry... The product of his violence.

He cursed to himself. Now what the hell was he supposed to do? He couldn't fly back to the Capital for at least another day due to his own wound, especially if he had to carry her with him! Standing up slowly, he reached down and pulled her into his arms, cradling her body against his chest as he made his way towards the sound of the river. He would have to retrieve her clothes and take her back to the temple, it was the only thing he could think of. If not, it would have been better to kill her off there and then, but he wanted... Needed answers from this blue-haired creature.

-

-

Bulma reached out with a trembling hand as she took a small brown, cubed box from Nena's outstretched palm. She peeled off the lid and slowly scowled with determination as she pulled out a strip of gritty, pale yellow strip of what looked like paper.

Her fear-filled eyes glanced at her devoted servant before she gently placed the small, thin strip onto the tip of her tongue. It tasted tangy, but sugary at the same time. It wasn't unpleasant nor was it uncomfortable, but the gritty texture made her tongue itch.

She closed her eyes as she felt her body shake with anticipation. The minutes had gone by achingly slowly after she had awoken from her blackout, as Nena went to buy the test for her at the market. Now that the time had come for her take the test, she didn't want to know the result. A feeling of misery shrouded itself around her shoulders, weighing her down as she tapped her foot impatiently against the stone-tiled floor.

"Mistress, I think two minutes have passed."

Bulma almost wanted to open her eyes and glare at the servant for rushing her along. She pulled the strip from her mouth and held it between her index finger and thumb; her limbs were now quivering and she couldn't force herself to open her eyes. They were jammed shut, her body refused to listen to her mind!

"What color is it?" She whispered hoarsely, swallowing to obtain more moisture in her dry throat.

"It's black," Nena whispered in response.

"Black..." Bulma murmured to herself. What did the label on the box say? Blue meant that the test was negative, brown showed uncertainty but black... Black meant her death; both hers and her unborn child's. "Oh Gods," she crumpled to the floor, refusing to open her eyes. If she did, she would have to face reality... _She would have to face him._ And she wasn't sure if she could. Could she sit there and tell him? No, she was a coward, she wanted to live! She didn't want to die, didn't want her child to die.

She could feel herself being lifted by two pairs of gentle hands; Nena and her mother.

It was at that moment she realized she didn't know Nena's mother's name. Her eyes fluttered open, locking with the older woman's, "What's your name?" She asked numbly, ignoring the concerned gazes of her servants.

"My name is Zarai, Mistress," the old woman replied softly. Her cool hand felt wonderful against her hot forehead, as she brushed away the few strands of cerulean hair that fell over her eyes.

Then, the world around her disappeared for a second time.

-

-

Bulma groaned, shifting her body only to find that her muscles had gone stiff. How--? She brushed the ground beneath her with her knuckles, marvelling at the softness she felt. Since when had grass become so smooth and soft at the same time? She quickly sat up, blinking as the rush of blood to her head clouded her vision. Shaking her head, she suspiciously analyzed her surroundings.

She was... In a room!

A rather elaborate room, if she remembered from her past experience as a servant. It was dark but there was a dimly lit lamp on the oak table at the far side of the room that offered her enough light to observe everything. Where in Gods name had she--? Fallen, shattered memories began to rise up and join together once more. Things were becoming clearer with every shard that was put back into place.

It was **him**.

He did this to her! She raised her hand and touched her fingers to her left cheek. She felt nothing; no pain, no fracture. Nothing was broken or felt bruised--she was perfectly fine. So then had everything just been a dream? She was sure that he was going to kill her when she saw the murderous intent in his eyes as he pushed her to the ground. But here she was, alive and without a scratch on her. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

A quick movement of a dark shadow flew across the room to her side. She gasped as the shadow was replaced by the figure of the man who had almost killed her. He looked at her with cold, unsmiling eyes. She shook fearfully and drew back, pulling the thick covers around her as she did so. She noticed that she was now fully clothed in a gown of some sorts; had he--? She blushed at the thought of his hands touching her such a familiar way.

Why was she thinking such things?! Was she insane! This deranged Saiyan had almost killed her and she was thinking about **that**? She whimpered and drew further back in disgust. Initially, she had wanted to jump up and strangle the tiny Saiyan bastard; how dare he hurt her! But now, she knew that he was much, much stronger than she was. She knew that he would not hesitate to kill her.

"I see that you're awake."

His rough, quiet voice startled her. She peeked out from beneath the covers, offering only a view of her shining blue eyes. He looked--amused? She huffed indignantly; so he thinks that hurting innocent women is amusing?

"You fucking bastard!" She cried out; one of the many phrases she knew in her home planet's language. Her mother had always told her foul language was bad for the soul, but at the moment, her mother wasn't with her.

His eyes widened in surprise, registering her curse at him. This only furthered his amusement and he began to chuckle--insanely. She flashed a look of curiosity and fear before a cry fell from her lips as the safe, heavy covers were pulled away from her grasp.

Bulma tried to sit up, but was only pushed back down by his forceful hand. She lay back as he climbed on top of her, pressing his full weight down onto her trembling body. For the first time, she felt true fear towards his intent. What was going to--?

She heard him softly whisper into her ear, talking to her as if he was calming her. Perhaps--perhaps he was apologizing... She couldn't be certain. What would she do if he was? She was already deathly afraid of him, the episode in the forest had shown his true rage but... He didn't sound angry or upset at present.

To her, it seemed as if he was rambling. The thought almost made her laugh--almost. In truth, she felt sorry for him; he must have had a difficult past to possess so much rage... Maybe, just maybe she could help him. She didn't know why she felt the need to; it was just an impulse, a desire of hers. To help this tragic, lonely looking Saiyan.

-

-

He was in bed with her.

Bulma could sense his heat, feel him moving. With great effort, she forced her eyes open and found that the sun had set behind the horizon, leaving her enveloped in the darkness of their room.

"It's about time," the familiar rough voice shattered the peaceful mirage she had created in her mind.

She felt sick.

She couldn't tell him... How would she tell him even if she could? It was impossible. He would kill her and the baby. Or worse; he would just kill the baby himself and would leave her with its warm blood trickling down the insides of her thighs.

She would receive no comfort from him, no assurance of love. Only the words; _it was meant to happen, it can't be allowed_. She swallowed a sob. She didn't love him--how could she? But she knew, felt it in her heart that she was something to him. But she wasn't enough to be killed over, she supposed.

"How long have you been here?" She asked, frowning at her fearful tone. If he was surprised by her demeanor, he didn't show it. She turned on her side to face him, unconsciously wrapping her arm around her lower stomach for protection.

"Long enough," was his dismissive reply, "Care to tell me what happened?"

Her breathing grew shallow and she offered a watery smile, "I fainted, silly me, right?"

"Why did you faint?" He probed, fixing her with a suspicious glare. Even in the dark surroundings, she could feel its intensity.

"I haven't been eating properly," she lied, "And it's been so hot this year that I guess I just... Couldn't take it," the last words were mumbled guiltily as she looked away; her eyes falling onto every object in the room besides him.

She felt his fingers clasp her jaw, forcing her to look at him. She gazed up into his angry eyes and felt the room spin uncontrollably.

"You are a fool," he murmured.

-

-

"You are a fool," he murmured softly into her ear. He knew that she couldn't understand him, and so he continued to speak in the soft yet dangerously lilted voice he had been gifted with. The power of seduction held a great appeal to him. She had just sworn at him; he could deduce that from the tone of her voice. Stupid woman.

Vegeta was going to make her pay for trying to escape from him. He didn't take well to being made a fool of. Nappa was already feeling the brunt of his anger and this beautiful looking little creature was about to have the same experience. After he had rendered her unconscious, the shock slowly subsided and as his strength returned, so did his anger.

By nightfall, when she still hadn't awoken, he had been seething. Feeling most of his strength returned, he had flown them back to the Capital and ordered her speedy recovery from the surprised medical technicians at the palace. He wanted to heal her before he showed her the true extent of his anger. He had held back the previous time, but he wasn't going to let the same mistake occur twice. He would make her suffer; after all, she had been illegally living in the forest, unbeknownst to the court officials and King. Her punishment was inevitable. He was only helping, he reasoned.

Vegeta gently stroked the formerly bruised area of her cheek. He didn't allow his anger to surface, but continued to lull her into a false security as he spoke, "I'm going to fuck you all night long my little **Khron**, I'm going to claim you, and then when I'm satisfied I've humiliated you enough, I'm going to kill you and show no mercy," he whispered slowly, raising his eyes to her awed blue orbs.

He smirked as he pressed his body down upon hers. He wouldn't lie. She was extremely beautiful--for an alien; especially if she didn't have a tail. He was going to enjoy himself as much as he could, he thought cruelly.

The malice he felt was locked deep within his emotions. As a child, he had always been erratic and foul-tempered. It only worsened as he grew and the violent fits he threw as a child became louder and deadlier. It was only when his father had sent him away to train in the mountains of Vejiita-sei in his early teens, that he had learnt to reign in his temper. Even so, when he held a grudge with someone, he would only be satisfied until he exacted his revenge.

This little act was no exception. He was going to make the little **Khron** beg for him. And he felt no guilt for it.

Without warning, he threaded his hand upwards through the robe covering her body. He rubbed her thigh suggestively and heard her cry out in protest, squirming against his ministrations. He silenced her with his lips, working his tongue into her mouth and slowly... Slowly he felt her body relax and grow limp in his arms. He manoeuvred himself to lay between her legs and he felt them open readily. He almost grinned at her eagerness.

As their lips moved together in a silent dance, he felt the malice and anger slowly melt away from the recesses of his black heart. All coherent thought fled from his mind as he focused on his vengeful purpose without the aid of determination, but with the aid of need.

In the back of his mind, he couldn't believe that he needed her--his body needed her, needed this. It was absurd and yet he knew he was falling... Falling into something both would regret; not just her. It had been too long since he had bedded a woman. It was the only accountable reason for the sudden change in his intent.

He tried to pull away, tried to stop himself. But it was too late as her hands came to rest upon his shoulders, drawing him closer.

She had accepted him?

He was certain that she would refuse, after all he had hurt her. Why--why was she accepting him? Was she mad?!

He groaned quietly as her legs wound themselves around his waist. This was her first time, he was going to have to be gentle. She was so weak, he would probably crush her if he wasn't careful. The thought irritated him. Why should he consider her well-being? It was a preposterous idea.

But that is exactly what he did; he slid inside her with the gentlest of motions, allowing her fragile body to adjust with every inch. It was a torturous pleasure for him. In the clouded mist of his mind, he was distinctly aware of her jagged fingernails embedding themselves into his flesh; he could barely hear her heavy breathing and her quiet moans that aroused him to the point pain.

Gods, what was this little witch doing to him?!

They moved together slowly at first, finding their rhythm with practised ease after the first few clumsy movements of their hips. She was lithe and he was lean, a perfect combination. His climax built steadily, pushing him slowly over a dangerous precipice.

He knew that there would be no return from it.

He had fallen too far.

-

-

"I only came to see that you weren't dying," he suddenly voiced with mixed sarcasm and concern. He was so awful at hiding his real emotions sometimes. Just like her... Especially if they were angry or upset, those feelings almost always came tumbling out from their mouths without thought or regard.

Bulma looked at him in confusion, "I'm ok, you came unnecessarily, I'm sorry."

His thumb brushed across her bottom lip before he pulled his hand away, "Nothing is unnecessary," he remarked, standing quickly from her side, "I have to go back to the Capital, make sure that you are rested and fed well."

Before she could reply, he had already left.

Her shoulders sagged in defeat. Even through his concern, she knew that if he found out she was pregnant, he would kill her, or the baby. She had to leave, and it had to be tomorrow. She couldn't put it off until the next year arrived because her stomach would be far too noticeable and obvious.

Tomorrow. She would find a way off the planet, without fail; _tomorrow_.

-

-

-

**__**

AN: **This website is annoying me with its format changes! Ok, this chapter was difficult to get through and edit. I have some news for my readers, a couple of reasons as to why I disappeared for a while and why I started writing another story (FB not DBZ). I'm pregnant myself, so my hormones are flying all over the place and this chapter makes me want to cry. I apologize for my lack of enthusiam with this story in recent months, but hopefully it will change. Thanks go out to a special friend who was the first person to know, you've been a rock for me even though we haven't been keeping in touch for a long time and I'm so lucky to have you as a friend; you know who you are! Thanks to everyone who reads and/or reviews, I will see you all soon with the next chapter!**

Oh and _Ariyana_**, are you by any chance a mind reader? ::hugs::**


	7. Chapter Six

**_WARNING:_** _Rated R for language and sexual content (mild lemon/lime)._

**-**

**-**

**-**

**Chapter Six.**

**-**

**-**

**-**

Vegeta flew silently through the open window of his private chambers, brushing past the gauze ivory curtains and landing without a sound upon the tanned stone floor. He stalked forwards, removing the pair of white gloves that fit against his hands like second skin.

"How is your whore?"

He turned to the bitter voice, glancing at his mate and Queen with expressed irony, "Fine," he muttered dryly, "Leave, Cerna."

He scowled inwardly, disliking her presence in his private quarters. The only other person to lay their eyes on the interior was... _Her_. It made his skin crawl to think that the manipulating woman before him had dared to defile his person space. If he could do anything about it, he would have killed her. But the child, his child, growing inside her stomach prevented him from lashing out as he normally would have done. He was growing too soft. He knew this, so did this woman, and she was taking full advantage.

"You intrigue me, _my King_," she continued, "I never knew that a commoner, an alien in fact, could hold your interest for this long. I wonder what the Elders and council members would say if--"

With the speed of light he had whirled around and caught her by the throat, using his strength to overpower her and send the startled woman hurtling against the stone wall. A heavy thud resounded around the room as she collided with the wall, flesh and bone colliding with concrete, sending angry rivers of gaping cracks from her fallen body towards the ceiling.

"Look at what you made me do," he bit out in disappointment, "That is what you deserve after insulting _your_ King. Always remember who you are dealing with, woman. Now... Get out." Child or no child, he would not allow her to speak to him in that manner! Perhaps he was getting softer by not killing her, but he certainly wasn't stupid.

Vegeta turned away and began to strip himself bare of the ceremonial royal garb he was forced to wear, barely casting the bruised body a concerned glance. He had a certain prior engagement more enticing than the wench laying in the corner of his chambers and he would not miss it for the entire planet.

The shell-shocked Queen groaned in pain, coughing as she sat up clutching her stomach fearfully, looking at her _mate_ with hidden rage. Particles of dust, debris and stone cascaded down her body as she shook herself clean whilst gently massaging her stomach.

She knew that the child growing inside was not harmed, after all he was the son of a powerful King and she too had not been hurt--much... But her pride had been injured. And that was completely unbearable to her.

Without waiting for more reprehension from the angered King, she scuttled away across the floor, her mind already filled with torrents of vengeance and the singing choruses of blood and torture that ensued these thoughts.

-

-

-

A gentle thud roused her from her troubled sleep. She forced her eyes open and sat up, gaping at the scene before her.

A hooded and cloaked man lay on the floor at the foot of her bed; crimson blood gushed out from the slit in his throat glistening in the pale moonlight like an endless river of death as it spilled out onto the stone floor and pooled beneath him. His amber eyes stared out at her from the darkness in a silent plea for mercy--but she had none to give.

Bulma's jaw trembled as her eyes fell upon the frail figure standing over the dead body, "Nena?" She whispered fearfully, jumping out of the bed as she looked for any possible escape route. Her mind was confused. How could the only woman she trusted on this planet commit such a crime? And who was the man? Any possible explanation she could fathom made no sense to her as Nena gasped and looked at her wide round snow-white eyes that grew cloudy with mixed and guilt and frustration.

The dagger in the woman's hand gleamed against the beams of the moonlight, dripping innocently with the man's life essence as though it had no part in the destruction of a living creature. Bulma rubbed her chest, feeling a wave of nausea threaten to override her body.

Nena stumbled forward towards her, "Mistress!" She cried urgently.

Bulma backed away from the approaching woman, surprised to find a flicker of pain in their white depths as she did so, "What happened?" She demanded, "_Who _are you? What do you want?"

The young alien's shoulders shook as she tried to explain, "I did not mean to kill him Mistress, I swear it. But--but I think he was an assassin! I couldn't sleep and I was wandering the halls of the villa when I saw him walking towards your room. I thought it was the Master at first but his shadow did not match! He didn't notice me and so I followed him into you room and saw this in his hand," she waved the bloody dagger. She paused before speaking again, "On my home planet, the women are trained in self-defense and I couldn't let him harm you..." Nena trailed off, offering her Mistress a shamed glance before turning away. "I understand if you tell Master, it was wrong of me to kill him."

Bulma sighed in relief and let out a deep breath, "I won't tell him what happened because," she looked at the motionless body, "You save my life but--who would want me dead?" She whispered in fear.

Nena shook her head, "I do not know Mistress, but you must be careful from now on. Will you tell Master about the assassin's attempt?

The blue-haired woman pondered the question for a moment before replying, "No," she reached out and took the dagger from Nena's hand, wiping away the blood with the dead man's cloak, "We have to get rid of the body, but I want you to keep that knife in the kitchens," she felt a morbid fascination in keeping the dead man's possession. Killed by his own weapon...

Nena nodded in ascent, "Should we see who he is?"

Bulma pursed her lips, debating her options. With a resigned look she knelt down beside dead assassin and forced herself to pull away the hood that covered his face. His skin was scaly, a pale yellow and his amber eyes bore into her own with lifeless intent as his green blood-coated locks framed his face in innocence. She squinted in the dark, noting that she didn't recognize him, nor which race he came from.

"He's a Serpenian," Nena murmured thoughtfully, as if she saw Bulma's uncertainty.

She looked at the woman in confusion, "Serpenian? But I had heard that their race were on the brink of extinction. I've never seen one though I know of them, but why is he on this planet?"

"The remaining species of the Serpenian race were sold on the black market slave trade to Vejiita-sei for a princely sum, they make excellent assassins if trained well from birth," Nena's voice held a hint of irony as she looked at the dead man, "Vejiita-sei has no use for assassins but they keep them on hand for diplomatic occasions when they don't want to rouse any suspicion with other galactic officials. Serpenian assassins are much too subtle to use daggers, which means on this attempt... Someone wanted others to know that your death was in cold blood--that you were murdered."

She looked at the white-eyed woman in apprehension, "How do you know all of this?" She asked suspiciously.

Nena bowed her head, "A servant must always keep their eyes and ears open Mistress, it's our only form of survival." Bulma accepted the response, growing silent and contemplative as her eyes were drawn to the dead body. She couldn't look away from the lifeless face...

Nena's eyes seemed to focus upon the tattooed crest upon his forehead, "He's from the Royal Guard," she announced suddenly, pointing at the tattoo and startling the pregnant woman from her state of thought.

Bulma frowned and blinked, "The Royal Guard..? But that means--Vegeta?" It was difficult to believe that he wanted her dead.

Her eyes rounded as the wheels of her mind began to turn... Had he found out that she was pregnant?! Was that why he wanted her dead? But she had always thought he would kill her himself, not send an assassin in such a cowardly fashion. The King had honor and...

Nena could see the woman's train of thought, "I don't think it was Master," she hesitated but continued to speak, "It could have been someone else who found out about you and the King's affairs..."

"Yes," Bulma agreed readily, "I think you're right," she motioned to the body as she stood up, "Get rid of him and clean up the room Nena--" She turned towards the open doors that led out to her private veranda; the sun was about to rise and a new day was on the horizon... "--I'm going for a bath." She said quickly, walking stiffly to the en suite bathing room with a grim look set upon her features. It was time to leave Vejiita-sei forever. And today would be that day.

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He touched down upon his woman's private veranda. The sun was still quite low on the horizon, indicating that it was still early in the morning. He smirked, mirthlessly enthralled. He would catch her before she rose for the day. He didn't know why he held such a strange fascination for watching her in the early hours of the morning, sleeping peacefully as if she had no care in the world.

It would be his favorite time of the day; waking her up just as he was about to take her. The surprise and joy on her face surged through his own veins when he did that... If only he could visit her more often in the morning--but his duties always kept him from that one pleasure. No matter, he thought, he was here now and he would make the most of it.

He drew down the handles of the glass doors and found that they would not open. His forehead wrinkled in thought; she never locked this door because she knew that he would sometimes come in the dead of night and take her unawares, so why had she done so now? A heavy foreboding feeling set in his stomach, tasting bitter in his mouth.

With no hesitation, he kicked open the doors, rattling them off their shingles in doing so. He stalked into the room, eyes scanning the large area with hawk-like precision. Nothing was out of place.

The door to the bathroom was suddenly pulled upon and he exhaled loudly as the vision of his _Khron_ stepped out, wrapped delicately in a fluffy ivory towel. He grinned ferally at the image of her voluptuous breasts hiding beneath the towel. Clouds of steam rolled out around her feet from behind, swirling around her shapely legs in an enticing gesture which he found all too alluring.

He needed a good fuck.

Baring his teeth, he walked towards her in a predatory manner, disregarding the look of shock upon her face at seeing him standing in the room. He stepped in front of her barely covered, delicious body and pulled her slowly towards him.

The image of her tousled, wet blue locks, sparkling ocean eyes and glistening warm skin made her appear to be a godly creation in his mind's eyes; an angel sent to the depths of hell... An angel that was his to use and do with as he pleased.

He placed his calloused palm over her cheek, watching intently as her eyelids drooped down and her full cherry lips parted. Unconsciously, he grazed his thumb across her lower lip causing it to swell as her breath hitched in her throat. He felt his groin tighten at the sound.

"Why did you lock the doors woman?" Vegeta's voice rumbled out quietly into the silent room, sending a dangerous shiver through her body.

"I didn't notice that I had," she replied hoarsely. Her tongue darted out to lick her lower lip, gently catching his thumb as he continued to rub. He had to smirk at the wonderful spell his thumb was weaving; he knew that she wouldn't be able to resist him.

"Do you know the price for such a deed?" He remarked suggestively, hooking his free finger into the ridge of the towel resting above her chest.

She shook her head slowly as her eyes remained lowered in submission, "No, but I'm beginning to think that I'll find out."

Vegeta didn't need to reply. He simply chuckled and used his body to push her back into the bathroom. She opened her mouth to speak but before she could, he slowly pressed his mouth against hers.

With a sensuality he had never displayed before, he began to work her mouth like the strings of an harmonically inclined instrument, forcing her body to sing in response. She was hot and wet as he dragged his willing tongue over the roof of her mouth, dancing across the ridges and bumps whilst making her moan in surprised pleasure.

This was what he came for.

As though he were under an ancient mythical spell cast by his ancestors, he grasped her warm pliant body and rose off the ground, taking her with him. They spun lazily in mid-air, grappling each other's tongues in a silent, deadly war. As slowly as he could, he lowered their bodies to the glistening, moist floor and began to untie the bothersome towel covering her body. He grinned cruelly as her entire body flushed under his gaze, giving him the most sadistic pleasure he had felt in a long while.

He was going to enjoy this morning thoroughly.

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Bulma threw her head back and moaned in relief and satisfied pleasure. She bit into the taut, tanned skin of his shoulder as he moved slowly within her, drawing blood. The metallic taste coated her tongue as she lapped at the wound, feeling remarkably powerful for making the implacable man above her bleed... It felt so good that she was disappointed when he finished, pulling out from her and finally allowing him to settle them in the pool of luke warm water.

Facing him, she straddled his hips--knowing that what she was doing was wrong, so terribly, powerfully, incredibly wrong. The sex in the moment before had been slow and intense, like nothing they had encountered before and her orgasm..! She found herself moaning even at the thought of it. It had been a completely new experience for the both of them and she knew that he was satisfied from the brief look of content upon his face. He never showed any form of emotion upon his face until that fleeting moment after he came.

Bulma wanted to see it again.

She began to crave the emotion she could evoke from him. So she had moved straddled him, leaning forward to nip his earlobe whilst using her tongue to create a glistening line down the column of his corded, muscular neck.

Gods she wanted it! Wanted it all... But she knew that after this moment had passed, it would disappear from her grasp forever. She just want to feel his rock hard presence filling her for one final time. And so, she braced her hips, letting his body control her as his length roughly invaded her from below.

It would be their last; and she would treasure it.

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When she awoke again, he was gone. Her head turned to the large windows leading out to the veranda and saw that it was mid-afternoon. The door to her room opened slowly and she heard the soft tread of feet walking slowly towards the bed.

Was that Nena?

She sat up slowly, her features clenching at the stiffness and throbbing aches she felt in her limbs. Her eyes widened as _he_ sat down on the bed next to her. She gulped, "I thought--I thought you had gone?" Her eyes darted around the room; she was supposed to _leave _today! Leave the entire planet... But how could she do that with him sitting beside her?!

"I'm taking the day off," Vegeta replied coolly.

She gave him an incredulous look, "Are you sure about that?"

"No," he snorted, "But you know that court intrigue has never held my fascination."

"I think that you're more of a warrior than a diplomat," she quipped.

"That's why I'm sending someone else to deal with the politics off-planet,"

Her interest was piqued, "Oh? Is there any trouble?"

"Nothing that should concern you," he sent her a sly glance from the corner of his eye, "You're awfully talkative today."

Bulma licked her dry lips, unsure as to how she would reply. They had never had a proper conversation before... It usually ended with them having sex. This felt--different. But it also felt, nice, for lack of a better word. She didn't know how to react and so did the only thing plausible at that moment.

She was already pregnant and she would be leaving soon too; perhaps she hadn't thought this through? She would need time to plan, to get a space ship. But one thing was for certain... She couldn't wait more than a few months, because she knew that her stomach would start to show, and if she didn't leave sooner or later... He'd kill her and her baby.

"I think it's a post-orgasmic effect," she exclaimed, thinking on her feet and slowly crawling towards him in a dangerous manner. He grunted in surprise as she straddled his lap, "Since you have the day off, will you be spending it with me? In this room?" She blew softly into his sensitive ear, earning a low rumble from his throat as she took his hand and placed it on her crotch, whispering, "In me?"

She could faintly hear him hiss as he threw her onto the bed; the rest of his actions were all just a blur of pleasurable bliss in her mind.

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The night was an inky black when three shadows emerged from the silent villa. They ran wordlessly together, keeping low so as not to alert other servants to their presence.

For one of the shadows, a new life lay in the reaches of space; their destination, an unknown planet. Happiness lay in her future, happiness and peace... That was all she wanted for her and her unborn child, a child she would cherish with all her heart.

And so, she ran with her two shadowed companions, without a backward glance to the luxurious prison she had been locked in.

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**_AN:_ I had hoped this chapter would have been longer, but I suppose it's long enough. I'm still waiting for the baby, I feel quite impatient at the moment. A lot of people have been asking the gender and I'm sorry I didn't let you know sooner but I'm having a wonderful baby boy! I'm so very excited and thank you all so much for your support and congratulations, they make me feel incredibly loved! If motherhood does not affect me too much, I will try to update as soon as I can. Thank you.**


	8. Interlude

**_WARNING:_** _Rated R for language and sexual content (mild lemon/lime)._

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**Interlude**

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It was a pain unlike any other. The sentiments of loss and joy intermingled into a ball of emotion, frozen in her heart like that of a snow-peaked mountain. There was only one thing she could do now and that was to look forward. Her time to leave had come. She knew he would be angry... But that was not the right word to use; _furious, bitter, vengeful_. Those were the words she would use to describe what he would feel when he uncovered her betrayal. Her prayers for his retribution to remain unobtainable, carried on through the sleepless night of guilt that lapped at her conscious.

And so she sat listlessly, staring out of the round portal with unfailing remorse as the planet she had called _home_ grew smaller and smaller. The ship slowly sped away from the atmosphere of the bronzed planet, making her sigh unconsciously from hidden emotions of guilt.

For a final time, her sky blue eyes skimmed the contours of the rugged land, drinking up the flecks of emerald green scattered about the planet, representing the small areas of the dense forests that painted the landscape.

She raised a delicate pale hand to the portal and deftly stroked the planet from afar with an unflinching intent. As she blinked, the planet disappeared from her sight into the dark abyss of the universe, blanketed away from her by the dense atmosphere that shrouded her from her prison.

She would miss the planet... But would she miss the Saiyan people of this treasured planet? Would he miss _her_?

Would she miss _him_?

She sighed again and as her fingers slowly slid down the portal window, leaving a glistening trail of perspiration from her moist hand. And suddenly, the answer resounded clearly in her mind;

_No... She wouldn't._

**-**

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"He's dead."

The Queen gazed blankly at the Saiyan warrior standing before her, "Dead?"

"The Serpenian; he was found washed up on the shores of _Sai Island_, near the villa."

Cerna swore softly to herself. What she could not understand was _how_ a _ki_-less weakling managed to defeat a trained alien. There was no logic in the death of the Serpenian, it was to remain a mystery for she could not raise the idiot from the dead and ask him. "The fool," she mumbled to herself, leaning back comfortably into her elaborately decorated arm chair.

An unearthly silence fell between the two Saiyans, enhancing every other sound in the room to an unbearable decibel. The sandy stone walls seemed to breathe with life, holding untold memories of the ghostly Kings that had passed from this world. It was suffocating for her, as though an imperceptible hand was slowly pressing down upon her unborn child, secretly trying to squeeze out the life essence from the mass of cells that lay hidden deep within the folds of her body.

Cerna inhaled deeply, forcing away the invisible monsters that were caged inside the walls of her mind.

"I trusted him to finish the job off and he--Did you return to the villa to carry out the unfinished task?" She snapped suddenly, glaring icily at the stern Saiyan.

He looked over her shoulder as he replied, showing the correct form of courtesy a queen would deserve, "I did, your highness. But there was no one in the villa. The servants present did not have any clue as to the whereabouts of this alien you wish dead; I even killed a few to scare the others but they knew nothing. It seems as if your target escaped."

Cerna's eyebrow rose in thought, "You've served me well, but not well enough it seems..." She sighed. How was she supposed to fight a battle with an invisible opponent? It was absolutely impossible! She looked at her personal guard, wanting to kill him at that very moment. Instead, she motioned for him to leave, suddenly feeling drained of energy. As he turned to leave, she caressed her abdomen gently, a small smile lighting her tanned face. If the little witch had escaped, then so be it; at least she wouldn't be with _her _mate. That wouldn't do at all...

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Bulma closed her eyes.

Their escape had not been an easy one. It had been messy, deadly, but instinct to fight for her and her unborn child's survival dominated all else. Her watery blue eyes travelled down to her hands; if she looked closely, she could see flecks of blood within the very pores of her hands... The blood of another living creature.

She never thought she could or would take the life of another, but she had... All for the sanctity of survival. Her eyes began to sting beneath her closed eyelids as a pool of tears formed beneath her lashes.

If she had the chance, she knew that she would have done it again, without a moment of hesitation.

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_They had snuck under the docking bay where Vejiita-sei's international fleet of ships were kept. It had not been easy, the highly security-tight base was a minefield of guards and surveillance cameras. It would not be too long before one of them would slip up and they would be caught._

_The pressure she felt was unlike any other. If this escape failed, then she knew she would be die at the hands of her lover. She grimaced at the word, her fingers trembling as they hid in a tunnel beneath the docking bay. It seemed that she was not the only slave to have thoughts of escape. How they built the underground tunnel was beyond her, all she could do was give her thanks to their wit._

_"Are we ready ladies?" Zarai, Nena's mother, whispered urgently, breaking her train of thought._

_In the pitch black tunnel, the musty smell of earth and wood became all too prominent at that moment. Bulma shivered, "I'm ready," her hand reached into the pocket of her blue cloak, fingering the sharp object with anticipation and dread._

_Zarai gave a ghostly smile and looked longingly at the soiled wall before her, ending the tunnel they had travelled through. "The panel behind that soil," she murmured, "will take us to the back entrance of one of Vejiita-sei's ships. We won't have much time before someone might spot us, but we will run separately to the entrance; there is a ten foot width between the panel and the back entrance to the ship."_

_Bulma looked at the older woman with hidden admiration, "Have you done this before?" She asked in awe._

_"I have helped others," she admitted, "But I always thought that I would be able to buy my freedom and leave next spring," Zarai looked poignantly towards her, "But certain circumstances has led me towards this path and to help you, I must make sacrifices of my own"_

_She swallowed and nodded, noting the regal manner in which the older woman spoke. At that moment in time, she was not a slave or servant to Bulma... She was a pillar of strength and wisdom; one which she would lean on to the end of her days._

_A gentle hand on her shoulder comforted the wave of anxiety that suddenly fled through her as she looked at the small silver soil-covered panel. She turned and looked at Nena, bowing her head. "If we don't make it, I want to let you know how grateful I am."_

_Nena shook her head, "We will make it," she murmured in assurance._

_"Nena, I want you to go first," Zarai announced. The young woman fell to her knees and before the small square panel. It was barely large enough for them to get through. She braced her hand against the protruding handle and waited for her mother's command._

_Bulma looked at them through the dim light offered by the lamp she carried. Zarai closed her eyes and whispered a countdown, specifically tuned to the guard rotation that would walk by the ship every few minutes._

_"NOW!" The woman hissed._

_The next thing Bulma could see was the quick sliding of the panel, the crumbling of dried earth and swift departure of Zarai's daughter. The panel slid back with lightning speed behind her. Bulma blinked and looked at Zarai in astonishment._

_"Your turn Mistress."_

_Bulma shifted awkwardly. The word felt... Wrong, coming from the older woman, "Call me Bulma," she replied, suddenly feeling like she was five years old._

_The corners of Zarai's eyes wrinkled warmly and the next thing Bulma knew, she was in her knees in the same position as Nena, holding the handle to the sliding panel._

_Time moved at a snail's pace, crawling by and making each second as agonizing as the last._

_"NOW!" The monosyllabic word penetrated the barrier of her mind and without hesitation, she flew into action, leaving the past behind her in the earth and soil of the ancient planet._

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The next half hour after she had run from the panel was a blur. As prophesized, they had been caught, but only by one guard that had seen Zarai's entrance into the back of the ship. The ship was only large enough for 10 people to go into sleep stasis; but it was enough for them.

When the guard had taken Nena by the scruff of her neck, Bulma had done the only thing that came to mind at that precise moment. She advanced on him from behind and lashed at him with the Serpenian assassin's dagger.

And with that moment, she slowly felt her soul seep from her fingers as the guard's dead body fell at her feet, his blood pooling beneath her sandals.

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**_AN:_** **My son, **_Nathan Alexander_**, was born November 14th 2004. I dedicate this chapter to him, my friends and the people that read my stories who make my writing so enjoyable. I could not have done this without you and your support. Thank you.**

**This chapter was left short for a **_reason_**. The next chapter will be the one you're waiting for; Vegeta's reaction and... The future.**

**Thank you for your patience.**


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