Page 1 of I Married A Catman

Chapter 1

Gaelec

Back straight, tail stiff, and my chin lifted, I advanced with an assurance I didn’t truly feel under the unusually quiet gazes of the other inmates. Lord Amreth looked even more imposing than usual with his massive bat wings, heavy horns, and silver-white eyes that observed me as I approached with the bag containing my few possessions.

For twelve years, twelve looong years, I served my sentence in one of his Quadrants on the dreadful prison planet Molvi. The Obosian Warden examined me in silence with an unreadable expression. It took every bit of my willpower to keep my own features neutral, despite the wild pounding of my heart.

“Time to go, Gaelec,” the Warden said at last with his deep, rumbling voice.

I nearly felt faint with relief. Although he had always been fair and a male of his word, life had thrown too many sneaky blows at me. I now expected foul play at every turn.

“Time indeed, Warden,” I replied, proud that my voice sounded calm and steady.

He lifted a wand-like stick from his weapons belt. No words were required for me to know what he wanted. I held my bag before me while he ran the scanning device over it. Although he appeared focused on that menial task, the Hell Lord—as humans labeled them—remained keenly aware of his surroundings and ready to parry any treacherous attack anyone might launch on him while they believed him distracted.

The Obosians—who owned and operated this prison—received that Hell Lord nickname for their apparent resemblance to mythical beings they called demons but with dark gray skin. And this place certainly qualified as what humans described as Hell.

All the worst criminals ended up here.

Although I didn’t consider myself as such, the crime I committed guaranteed a first-class ticket to this nightmarish place. For all that, I had been lucky in my demise. Each Hell Lord controlled a sector of the prison planet. Those sectors were divided into four Quadrants ranging from Light to Dark. Q1—commonly referred to as the Light Quadrant—was reserved for those who committed the least grievous crimes and generally could expect to be released at the end of their term. Q4—the Dark Quadrant—was pretty much a death sentence. They regrouped the foulest criminals there. As for Q2 and Q3—the Gray Quadrants—your chances of survival gradually decreased. It all came down to the luck of the draw as to who else you were incarcerated with.

I had landed in the Light Quadrant. Considering how painful my stay here had been, I couldn’t imagine surviving the tougher ones.

“You’re all good,” Amreth said as soon as he finished scanning both my bag and me.

He gestured for me to get inside the shuttle that had landed in the open square in front of the building that served as ourdwelling. It was located a short distance from the facilities where we performed the refinement and transformation work on the minerals we extracted in our sector.

My heart soared as I headed towards the vessel. A few other inmates cheered, some of them jeering as they finally came to life. I made eye contact with as many as possible. I didn’t care for most of them. And yet, my chest slightly constricted as I teasingly waved or nodded in farewell. For all their faults and flaws, they’d been my tribe for varying durations over the past twelve years.

I wasn’t foolish enough to assume the sadness I glimpsed here and there came from actual sorrow over losingme, Gaelec. They merely mourned the skills I diligently acquired during my stay on Molvi and put to good use for the improvement of our Quadrant and quality of life.

My mind reeled as I climbed the ramp into the shuttle. I had not left this wretched place since my incarceration. Something akin to a wave of panic attempted to take root, but I clamped down on it. I hadn’t fought this long to regain my freedom only to cower back to what had become almost safe in its familiarity. For all its hardships, the Quadrant was a controlled space with clear rules and expectations. Now, I was going right back into the unknown.

I settled in one of the twelve passenger seats of the shuttle. To my surprise, the Warden didn’t shackle me. Instead, he sat across from me in the chair reserved for the guard that normally escorted convicts here from the triage center of the spaceport.

He crossed his legs and leveled his glowing eyes on me with a discreet but amused smirk on his generous lips. By all accounts, Lord Amreth—like many Obosian Lords—would be deemed a very handsome male. His skin was on the darker spectrum of gray, his shoulders broad, and his muscles bulging and ropey. In sharp contrast, long, silver white hair, typical of his species,cascaded down his shoulders. But it was his silver eyes that always hypnotized me, the way they stood out against the black sclera.

“You used your time among us well, Gaelec,” Amreth said at last in a pensive tone as soon as the shuttle doors closed, and the pilot got us airborne. “You’ve learned some excellent trade skills, worked hard, and above all, you behaved. I would have hated to be forced to challenge your release, had you acted otherwise. But now that you’re regaining your freedom, please see to it that you do not commit crimes again.”

I stiffened and narrowed my eyes at him. Although I expected a similar speech on my way out, something in the way he said this set all my senses on high alert.

“Why would I?” I challenged.

“In too many ways, your culture condones or incentivizes it,” he replied in a factual manner devoid of any condemnation. “Once back home, you will face many pressures to go back to the type of activities that got you caught in the first place.”

My stomach knotted at the accuracy of his statement. Undoubtedly, my Pride would quickly start putting pressure on me to participate in potentially lucrative missions to benefit our whole community.

I shrugged, trying to keep a nonchalant attitude about it. “That’s true. However, as you’ve stated so well yourself, I’ve worked hard over the past decade. Every month, I made it a point to exceed the minimum productivity quotas to earn extra credits. After all this time, I have very comfortable savings. If I lead a reasonably frugal life, the interests alone will suffice to cover my expenses.”

My heart sank when the Warden took on a commiserating expression laced with a hint of pity.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” I demanded, the suspicion blossoming deep within sparking my anger. “You deposited my wages into my savings account, did you not?”

He bristled at the implication that he might have embezzled my credits. That he appeared to decide to let it slide only increased my growing sense of doom. Obosians were almost fanatical in their obsession with upholding the law, which made them the perfect species to run the strictest penal facility in the galaxy. Accusing one of them of committing a crime was the greatest insult imaginable.

“Of course, I did. However, most of it is gone.”

“WHAT?!”

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