The other warriors grew quiet. Admiration glinted in Alexandra’s eyes. “You are a true Tova, I see.”
Jax tipped his head in agreement while the others grumbled. The Chancellor turned to Killian, asking him something about the inner workings of America’s government.
Nya leaned over to Victor. “What did she mean, ‘true Tova?’”
Victor smiled. “The Tovaris rarely take a mate, but when they do nothing is more important than that union—not even the Society or their brotherhood.”
Startled, Nya glanced at Jax. His eyes bore into her.
The waiter finished topping off wine glasses, and Alexandra turned to Nya.
“I haven’t seen you since your rite of passage. Did you enjoy your time at the academy?”
Nya fidgeted with her napkin. “Of course. The instructors are well versed, Montana is beautiful, and I met my best friend there.”
The Chancellor smiled. “Ah, yes. The lovely Toxaris. She’s the one you rescued during the trials, am I right?”
Surprise rippled around the table. Nya grew uncomfortable.
“Rescued implies she couldn’t do it on her own. Had we not been side by side when the incident happened, Xari still would have gone to the next round.”
Gunnar grumbled, and Alexandra looked across the table.
“And what do you think of Nya’s decision to help Toxaris?”
The Norseman tapped his finger on the table. “It was the wrong move. Had Anya been eliminated in the process of helping her friend, she would now be waiting at the compound for the leftovers, not taking charge of her life and choosing a rovni for herself.”
What an ass.
The table froze, and Nya realized she must have said the words out loud. Jax bit back a smile and picked up his fork, but the Chancellor and Victor both zeroed in on her.
“Elaborate, please,” Victor quietly commanded.
Nya gritted her teeth, fighting the urge to knock that arrogant expression off Gunnar’s face. “The warriors in this room are the best Scythian males of our generation. But according to you, if they don’t defeat a champion they’re a failure.”
Anger lit Gunnar’s eyes. “The strongest males claim their warrior. It stands to reason the ones that don’t are inherently weaker than the ones that do. So yes, in my book, they have failed.”
Nya’s wine glass froze halfway to her lips as she glared at Gunnar, unaware the entire place was listening. “My father met my mother in the Claiming Season. So, I guess in your book that makes the last line of Ares and the Commander of Fourth Gen worth less than you, is that right?”
Gunnar’s brow rose. “That’s not what I said.”
“Oh, I misspoke. That makes him inherently weaker than you. Those were your words.”
Regret flashed in Gunnar’s eyes, “Anya, I—”
“I just want to make sure I understand correctly. According to your black-and-white view of the world, my mother was less of a warrior than the champions of her region, and my father was less of a male because he was defeated in his third round.”
Cameras clicked in the silence, but the frustration she’d been feeling finally spilled over.
“Make no mistake, Gunnar Wolff. The only reason we’re sitting at this table is because I’m not good at following rules, and you and I marked similar answers on some ridiculous profiling test, which is obviously flawed.”
Alexandra glanced from the Norseman to Nya. “So, you feel Gunnar does not possess the qualities to be your equal?”
Nya’s back became ramrod straight as she set her glass down, not caring that wine splashed over the lip. “I don’t see how, not when he doesn’t understand the first thing about friendship or loyalty.”
Her voice rang through the quiet, and she became acutely aware the room had gone still.
More shutters clicked as the cameras closed in.
The Chancellor slowly smiled. “I’ll say one thing for you, Anya Thalestris. You have your father’s spirit.” She stood, looking at Victor. “Take Gunnar Wolff of Anya’s list.”
Mutters rippled across the room as hushed conversations exploded around them. The press followed the Chancellor out of the hall, and an uneasy silence settled over Nya’s table.
Gunnar threw his napkin on his plate. “If you will excuse me, I believe I’ve lost my appetite.”
And with that, he stormed away.
The remaining four stared, silent.
Nya leaned over to Victor. “How badly did I screw that up?”
“You’re always free to voice your opinion. Only, if I may make a suggestion?” He patted her arm. “The next time the Chancellor visits, let’s try and keep the conversation civil, shall we?”
Her shoulders slumped.
“Come now. It’s not that bad.” Victor smiled. “I’ve known Alexandra for years, and if it makes you feel better, I’m sure she agrees with you.”
Her gaze met his. “So, she thinks I should have helped Xari?”
“Of course not,” Victor scoffed. “But Gunnar is an ass.”
Nya chuckled.
Servers carried the next course out, and Victor took the lead as host. Giovanni, Han, and Killian jumped into the conversation, all pointed toward lighter topics, but Jax was unusually quiet, watching Nya interact with the others.
Finally, after coffee and traditional fruit for dessert, the announcement was made to proceed to the arena.
“We’ll see you in a minute,” Jax muttered as her official candidates left. Victor waited until the males were out of the room before he nudged her along, veering left and heading to a sitting area behind the stairs.
Nya crossed her arms. “Listen, I know I—”
He held up his hand. “This isn’t about your little outburst, as entertaining as it was. This is about choosing your candidates. Is there anyone else you wish to replace? The media attention will only get worse until you officially declare your Chosen. It would be better to cut loose the warriors you know aren’t a good match.”
Nya ran through her options. Even though it scared the hell out of her, Jax stayed. Giovanni was sweet, Killian was confusing, but Han ...
Frustrated, Nya frowned. “How am I supposed to know?”
“Your ancestors relied heavily on instinct. What does your gut say?”
“Run like hell.”
Victor’s expression became grave. “That instinct is not intrinsic. Search deeper.”
“How do you know my instinct isn’t intrinsic?”
“And that discussion is for another day.”
She blindly looked across the foyer, her mind racing. “I don’t think Han is going to work out. We have so little in common.”
Victor placed her hand on his arm, and they headed toward the door. “And what of the others?”
“The others are fine.”
“All right. I’ll see Han knows to look for another champion.” He cleared his throat. “Anya, we should discuss—”
“You know, most people call me Nya,” she interrupted.
He raised his brow. “I’m not most people.”
Memories of rain splattering across his face, his voice hoarse from screaming as he called her father’s name skittered across her mind.
She looked away. “No ... no, you’re not.”
Frustrated and more than a little pissed, Jax marched down a darkened corridor that led to the Chancellor’s private suite. Why in the hell did she summon him when he was supposed to be on the field sparring with Killian? He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his anger. He’d been struggling through lunch, watching other males touch his Vtachi, flirt with her—want her for their own. God. He never imagined it would be this hard.
And now this. Nya was on her way to the arena, and instead of being there to show her that he was her true equal, Alexandra pulled him away by ordering him to her chambers. What could be so damn important he had to leave the Trials?
He knew he’d shocked Nya when she saw him at the bottom of the stairs. The betray
al in her eyes cut him like a knife. If he lost her trust, she might make good on her threat to dismiss him, and there wouldn’t be a damn thing he could do about it. He’d lose her for good.
He should have told her; rules be damned. But there was the problem of her parents. Knowing Ike and Gia, if Jax didn’t jump through every hoop possible, they’d have him disqualified.
Zander, the Tovaris’ Suveran, called Jax a fool for not just taking Nya after they performed the Zvaz, an ancient ritual not seen in the Society for centuries. To hell with the consequences, Zander said. When a Tova finds his mate, he takes her. End of.
But Jax knew he couldn’t do that to his Vtachi. Four years ago, she wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment, and he’d be damned if he’d jeopardize her recovery that way.
Two guards stood shoulder-to-shoulder, blocking a massive oak door. As soon as they saw Jax, they nodded and stepped aside.
He stood at the Chancellor’s private chambers and resisted the urge to rip the door off its hinges. Instead, he knocked.
“Counselor, so happy to see you. Come in, come in.” Alexandra stepped back so Jax could cross the threshold. “Whiskey?”
“No, thank you. Too early for me. With all due respect, what was so urgent that you called me away from my champion?”
Alexandra motioned toward the elegant furniture, and reluctantly Jax took a seat by the fireplace.
She went to the liquor cabinet and pulled out a crystal tumbler, pouring herself a drink. “Quite a display at lunch, wasn’t it? Anya was magnificent.”
“She understands the importance of loyalty.” Jax’s impatience rang in his tone.
The Chancellor sighed. “Dr. Nickius. Four years ago, the Society asked you to fly to the States and assess a young female who had gone through a traumatic event. When you said she needed extensive therapy and offered to stay as an instructor, I readily approved. You’ve done well with Anya these past four years, and I want to thank you for your service.”
“It was my pleasure. What’s your point, Chancellor?”
Alexandra swirled the amber liquid in her glass. “I’ll be blunt. After all Anya’s been through, Ike and Gia want their nata to have a future that isn’t riddled with violence and death, something a Tova cannot give her. They feel there is someone better suited for her future.”
Jax remained stoic, even though rage bubbled inside. “I won’t step down if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Hear me out.” Alexandra leaned forward. “You’ve never expressed interest in my goddaughter until now. She was a warrior that needed your help. It’s understandable that you might misconstrue your sense of responsibility for something more. But you needn’t worry. Now that she has turned away a candidate, Lucian, Gia’s choice had Nya lost the championship, can openly pursue her. And they’ve found a wonderful counselor in Ireland so she can maintain her therapy.”
“Interesting theory, Alexandra.” Jax leaned forward, his stance matching hers. “But Nya did become a champion, which makes this discussion pointless. Gia has no say in which warrior Nya picks any more than you or me.”
“Jax.” Alexandra’s expression softened. “They have her best interest at heart.”
“I highly doubt that.” His voice became gruff as his temper bled through. “This is Ike and Gia’s pathetic attempt to ease their guilt, but nothing will change the past. The fact remains they knowingly put Nya in harm’s way when she wasn’t old enough to defend herself from a flea.”
The Chancellor’s eyes iced over. “Careful, Dr. Nickius. That order came from me.”
Jax stood. “And after the trials, we should take some time to explore how you came to such a reckless decision.” He walked toward the door. “We’re done here.”
“There’s one other matter. We need you in Russia.”
Jax’s eyes narrowed. “Not happening. The law states you cannot order a warrior away from the Trials once it has begun. Not unless there’s an act of war against the Society.”
“That may yet happen if we can’t get the Drahzda under control.”
“Which won’t be this month. Sorry, Chancellor. I’m not leaving. Not now.”
Alexandra stood and headed toward the liquor cabinet. “You’ll only be gone a few days. I’ll make sure you’re back before the second round.”
“And if I’m delayed?”
She pulled the stop off the crystal decanter. “Then I’ll postpone the trials.”
“You cannot do that unless—”
“There is an act of war on the Society. Yes, I know.” Whiskey sloshed over the crystal’s rim as she poured herself another drink. “I’m not giving you a choice. Unless you want to go before a tribunal, you’ll not push this. I’m ordering you to go to Russia. Tonight.”
Jax’s deep brown eyes furiously glittered, although his voice remained eerily calm. “Four years ago, I openly declared that Anya Thalestris would be my romni. If you’re forcing me to leave so that you can try to manipulate the outcome of the trials, I will not stand down. I’ll fight for what is mine.”
Alexandra smirked. “You didn’t demand a Zvas, so it doesn’t matter what you declared.”
“The ritual was performed the week after I tracked Nya her first year. If you need confirmation, every Tova will serve as my witness.”
Utter disbelief marred the Chancellor’s face. “Why wasn’t I informed?”
“It wasn’t your concern.”
Alexandra glared across the room. The Zvas bonded Jax to his word, which meant if he didn’t shoulder Nya’s mark, his lineage died with him, and he lived the rest of his life alone.
“How could you risk losing your line that way?” Even the Tovaris had a bastard child with a widow or an outcast.
He turned to face her. “That’s not what we’re discussing. The point is, we both know the weight the Zvas carries—the Tovaris already view Nya as mine. They will protect her as one of their own.” He paused, allowing her to mull that over. “And so, I ask, do you think it wise to set a tribunal of my peers, my Tovaris comrades, and then allow them to investigate what happened to my future romni, which is why I refused to go?”
Alexandra’s hand trembled as she finished her drink.
“That’s what I thought.” Jax opened the door.
“Ike’s found the place they held her.”
The words hit him like a ton of bricks, and he closed the door again. The past four years Nya’s father had been obsessed, trying to unravel the mystery of her disappearance. They knew the Drahzda had taken her, but they didn’t know why, and up until tonight they hadn’t a clue where.
He turned, giving her his full attention. “And what did they find?”
“Evidence that changes everything. You know Anya Thalestris better than anyone. And Ike insists there’s something you should see.”
Jax’s knuckles whitened as his hands balled into fists. He glared at the Chancellor. “If it’s that important, I’ll go. But know this. The Tovaris would have supported me had I taken Nya her first year, but I wanted to honor the traditions of our race. As of tonight, I’m done playing by your rules.”
He opened the door and quietly closed it behind him. Heading down the hall and taking the stairs at a quick clip, his smooth stride seemed confident and relaxed. But inside panic ripped through him. Abandonment was a big issue for his Vtachi, even though she hadn’t realized it yet.
She’d been so open to him last night, but as soon as she saw him from the top of the stairs, she’d started building emotional walls at an alarming speed.
Of course, he’d fight like hell to knock them back down, but the problem was Nya didn’t know her own mind. Her parents had taken that from her when they denied her a healthy upbringing. She should have dated. Figured out what she liked in a male and what traits she couldn’t stand, maybe taken a lover or two so she could find out what she wanted in a sexual relationship. But she’d never been allowed to explore that part of herself. And that was the problem, wasn’t it?
; She must be overwhelmed and confused, and he’d made it worse by keeping it secret that he was one of her candidates. Hell, he didn’t say two words at lunch, and he didn’t show up to spar with the others, something she was bound to take as rejection.
And now, he wouldn’t be in the same country for a few days.
Damn it. For the first time, Jax considered the possibility he might lose his Vtachi.
Chapter Sixteen
Clouds billowed over the consulate’s heavy woodlands, floating in the bright sky, their white tufts peeking through the coliseum’s elegant open arches. Nya marveled that such a massive stone structure could seem at home among the infinite flora of dense evergreens and vibrantly flowered meadows. Most Scythian arenas were architectural masterpieces, but the Consulate’s stadium outdid them all.
She and Victor stepped beneath the entrance that led to the heart of the arena. As they entered the sun-drenched stadium, Nya stopped to watch the hundreds of warriors sparring.
The males were in the same gear they wore at lunch—black pants and bright jackets, which represented their areas of expertise. White, the hue for linguists, was sprinkled throughout the various colors of the science, technology and several weapons industries. Strangely missing was Tovaris black.
A hulk of a Scythian, skin the color of ebony, stood among the others, his dreadlocks pulled back in a loose ponytail, which hung down his back. His thick thighs strained as he charged, his biceps flexed as he swung a large pole with a double-edged axe on each end. The warrior used a halberd as if it were made of air, creating a clean swath through the others. His black eyes glittered with the joy of the fight, his bright white smile a contrast to his dark complexion.
“Who’s that?” Nya asked, admiring his form as he dipped and swayed.
Victor pulled out his tablet and tapped on the warrior’s picture. “His name is Aren Maori, and he leads the Scythians that protect parts of Africa.”
She strained to see around the growing crowd watching the display.
“He’s already their Suveran?”
Victor studied her expression. “Yes. Would you like to meet him?”
The Scythian Trials Page 14