Kaji Warriors: Shifting Strength

by Kelly A Nix

  Solum smiles as he remembers the strength and honor of his lost mate. He yearns to feel the unwavering passion that she exuded in life and the tender submission that she reserved only for him. Solum’s smile fades, once again, as his memories melt into guilt and regret. His breath catches as Solum remembers their last words to each other. She wanted a child, and he did not. They were at the peak of their careers, and she was leaving for another difficult mission. Solum argued that a child would complicate things, and he did not want a youngling to disrupt their lives. Roga was furious with him, but also hurt and betrayed. She left questioning their future together. If only he had relented to her pleas. If only he had held her instead of pushing her away. If only he had stopped her from walking out the door.

  If only…

  As the guilt and regret intensify, a phantom pressure seizes Solum’s chest, and he cannot breathe. The crushing weight of never again seeing his mate’s smile drains the life from him. Solum would give nearly anything to watch Roga bite her lip in concentration one more time or to snicker at some prank she planned. He struggles to force his lungs to expand, not to give up, and to continue living beyond this pain and loss. But without Roga, what’s the point? She was supposed to be here with him to stand by his side. She was supposed to help raise their child. Now, he must raise Atae alone.

  His lungs expand, and Solum inhales as he remembers holding Atae for the first time. Countless times the blue-haired youngling unwittingly pulled Solum from the brink of darkness. He cared for her as an infant and never allowed anyone to help. Every smile or innocent garble lightened his mind and heart and pushed back the dark haze that engulfed him after Roga’s death. Even today, when Solum’s thoughts drift to darker memories, it is Atae that reminds him to keep fighting. Roga was meant to be his strength through life. When he lost her, Solum struggled from hour to hour. Facing a world without his mate was more frightening than facing a planet of enemy warriors. But the first time he held Atae and claimed her as his own, Solum gained new strength.

  Now, whether she realizes it or not, his daughter needs his help. If she is turning sour, her future will be short and dishonored. Roga sacrificed her relationship with a packmate to save his future. Could Solum do the same? Could he bear his daughter’s hatred in exchange for her future? Solum swipes his hand through his holographic workstation. With a couple of finger twitches, an image of the king’s general, Mendor, appears. His one eye stares into Solum’s soul, and Solum decides that he would sacrifice anything and everything for his child.

  Chapter 24

  “Why are we doing this?” Atae whines as she follows Jeqi down the hall toward the throne room. “I look ridiculous.”

  Atae tugs at the royal garb that hugs her small frame. A deep gray with red trim and black embroidery, the bodysuit is the most extravagant outfit Atae’s ever worn. The only thing she likes about the ensemble is the coin-sized medallion pinned to one shoulder with a decorative chain. One side of the coin boasts the Sula Academy logo, and the other brandishes the Ru-Kai crest.

  When the servants fastened the medallion to her garb, Atae was amazed by the intricate artwork and its similarity to the palace walls. The winged battle beast of the crest is fierce and protective, and the sword and shield of the logo are bittersweet. The medallion is the perfect symbol for her past and future training, and she hopes to keep it after the pledging ceremony.

  “You should be honored to wear the royal garb,” Jeqi says. Her tail sways behind her.

  “I am honored. This outfit just isn’t me. It’s too fancy. I’m going to fall on my face.”

  “Probably.”

  As they reach the main entrance to the throne room, Jeqi smiles and greets the guards stationed on either side of the door. The two younglings step inside and stop at the head of a white staircase with stone railing. The mid-day stars, Solis and Cerule, shine through the giant glass wall, casting a beautiful gleam across the walls depicting the Ru-Kai’s ascension to power. The high ceilings add to the elegance of the throne room. Atae leans against the white railing while both hybrids admire the splendid architecture. Recovering quicker than Atae, Jeqi tugs on her packmate to ascend the grand staircase and into the central area of the hall, where the royal guests gather. Someone with a pretentious voice announces Atae and Jeqi’s arrival with their names and status as the queen’s protégées. To Atae’s horror, everyone waiting in the busy throne room pauses to glance at the new arrivals.

  Nervous, Atae misses a step and stumbles into Jeqi. The blonde stops short of tumbling down the remaining steps by grabbing the banister with one hand and reaching to steady Atae with the other. A loud chuckle cascades through the crowd before everyone returns to their conversations. Once on the main floor, Jeqi glares at Atae with fury and rosy-cheeked embarrassment. Without saying a word, the Setunn storms off, leaving Atae alone in a sea of royal guests.

  “Don’t worry. We all stumble the first time,” a deep, melodious voice says behind Atae. She swivels to greet the unfamiliar voice and freezes at the sight of the young male. His chocolate skin is smooth against his chiseled cheeks and strong chin, and his thick, white hair sways above his shoulders. Still, it’s the young purebred’s intense, silver gaze that captures Atae. His dark lips curve into a polite smile, and something inside Atae’s chest flutters.

  Colorful eyes indicate an impure Kajian bloodline, as does a male with chromatic hair. Female Kaji sport red roots that fade to white tips; anything else implies the same impurity. The majority of purebred Kaji have coal-black eyes, but a few pure bloodlines carry the silver-eyed gene. Only the Crests of Kaji can produce younglings, or heirs, with silver eyes, and within the latest generation, only half of the heirs boast this exceptional trait. It is so rare that Atae is taken aback at the sight of this handsome youngling.

  After a moment of silence, he ducks his head and whispers, “Are you okay?”

  “I’m sorry.” Atae’s eyes widen, and her cheeks flame. “I’ve never met an heir, certainly not one with silver eyes. At least not in this form. They are beautiful.”

  “And I’ve never seen pink eyes,” he says. He lifts Atae’s face with a gentle hand on her chin. Calloused from training, his fingers are rough against her soft skin, and Atae shivers at the strength she imagines he must possess. When her abashed eyes meet his steady gaze again, he smiles.

  “And they are just as beautiful.”

  Atae’s eyes widen as her whole face flares red from his compliment. The silver heir rubs his thumb across her cheek then pulls his hand free. Atae sucks in a breath that she hadn’t realized she was holding. No one had ever complimented her appearance before. Her strength and technique, yes, but never her looks. Atae had never thought of herself as attractive nor unattractive. She’s unsure what to think of this young male and blurts out the only thing that comes to mind.

  “They are fuchsia, not pink.” Realizing the childishness of her argument, Atae grimaces.

  “Fuchsia? I’m afraid I’m not familiar with that color.”

  “It’s just another word for pink.”

  “Well, fuchsia does seem more warrior-like than pink,” he says. Amusement sparkles in his silver eyes, and Atae smiles at her new companion. Her eyes fall to a medallion fastened to the chest of his formal attire, and she reaches out to touch it, flipping it over to see both sides. It has the Ru-Kai crest on one side and an unfamiliar sigil on the other.

  “You serve the royal crest, but you are not a Ru-Kai heir,” Atae says.

  “You don’t recognize the crest?”

  “Uh, no. I don’t follow politics.”

  “I’m an heir to the Fu-Kai crest. I am honored to serve as Prince Truin’s royal guard.”

  Atae freezes with her arm still between them, and her eyes widen with realization. Just above the medallion on his bare chest, a scar descends below his bodysuit, and Atae is certain it extends the length of his torso. She knows this because she gave him the scar only a couple of days ago. With great care and deliberate movem
ent, Atae pulls her arm back to her side and meets the silver heir’s analyzing gaze. Feeling duped, she presses her lips together and lashes out at the royal guard.

  “Schinn, I take it. How many hours did you spend in a healing tank after our last encounter?”

  “Just long enough to enjoy you and your little friend’s visit,” he says. Schinn flashes a half-smile at the hybrid, and she balks.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, sitting in the tank just behind your recovery chairs allowed me to overhear some interesting facts about you. Facts that you don’t want anyone else to know,” Schinn says. Atae glances around the crowded room and tugs him close to prevent eavesdropping.

  “What do you want?” Atae asks. “You know what, I don’t care. If you tell anyone, you’ll get far worse than a gutted belly.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m not here to blackmail you. I’m here to offer my help,” he says. Schinn snickers when Atae’s nose crinkles and her mouth twists into an absurd scowl.

  “What?”

  “You need someone to guide you. Learning to control your shift is hard, even with a family to support you. Alone, it is nearly impossible.” When a couple nearby glances at the two younglings, Schinn grabs Atae and drags her to the window overlooking the royal garden. “I want to teach you to control your shift.”

  “Why? Why do you want to help me?” Atae shrugs off Schinn’s arm.

  “It’s not about helping you,” he says. “It’s about helping Prince Truin. You are a good fighter, and it would be advantageous for you to be one of his protectors. No matter how strong he is, the prince will need all the help he can get in the Gridiron.”

  Schinn glances around the room to ensure none of the guests are getting too close and spots Solum. When the battle-hardened warrior swivels toward them, Schinn grimaces.

  “How do you know that I’m entering with him?” Atae asks.

  “Meet me in Training Room Four tomorrow at midday,” Schinn says. Then he slips from Atae to disappear into the crowd before she can stop him. Annoyed by Schinn’s sudden departure, Atae doesn’t notice Solum’s arrival and jumps when he places a hand on her shoulder. She twirls around to face a threat with her fists raised before realizing that, once again, she has overreacted. She closes her eyes to calm her racing heart and convince her mind that Kandorq is locked away forever. Atae opens her eyes to Solum’s stern frown. If she looked closer, Atae could have seen the worry that his frown concealed; instead, Atae looks away, ashamed of her panicked response.

  “Come,” Solum says. Atae follows him to stand next to the throne where Jeqi awaits. Apparently forgiving Atae’s earlier mistakes, Jeqi smiles at her packmate, and the blue hybrid grins in return. The blonde’s eyes dance across the crowd as she waits.

  “Queen Sula and Prince Truin will arrive soon,” Jeqi says.

  “Do you both understand what this ceremony is for?” Solum asks. He watches the guests as though he were surrounded by enemies, and Atae frowns at her father’s odd behavior. She doesn’t understand why he would treat the queen’s royal subjects with suspicion.

  “Prince Truin is announcing his intention to enter the Gridiron,” Atae says.

  “Yes, but there is more to it. You need to understand the prince’s position.” Solum glances at the two naïve younglings then back to the ever-growing crowd around them. “Prince Truin is the only Ru-Kai heir, so what happens if he dies or proves unworthy in the Gridiron?”

  “He won’t. I’ll make sure of it.”

  Solum studies his daughter’s fierce determination and almost believes her, but he understands the cruel unpredictability of life. Solum knows how one decision can change the lives of millions for better or worse. One small stroke of fate’s mighty scythe can rip the center of your universe from your life forever, leaving in its wake nothing but an empty husk.

  “You may be able to keep our prince alive, but you cannot prove his worth for him. He must do it and without refute. There must be no doubt in anyone’s mind that he will make a worthy king. Anything less, and he will lose his right to the throne,” he says.

  “What? Of course, he is worthy. He is our prince. He is heir to the Ru-Kai crest. Who else would rule?” Atae says. She frowns, appalled by the mere notion that her prince might be unfit. She ignores the rogue thoughts that whisper through her mind about the arrogant brute or the disrespectful brat that she met before Prince Truin revealed himself.

  “Anyone who conquers the Royal Brawl,” Solum says. Upon seeing Atae’s confusion, he asks. “Do you know what a Royal Brawl is?”

  “No.”

  “Yes,” Jeqi says. Solum motions for her to explain.

  “If a Kaji warrior wishes to challenge the ruling monarch for the throne and right to rule, they must declare their intentions before the royal court. The royal family must then host the Royal Brawl within one month. It’s supposed to be very exciting and draws more attention than the Gridiron. It’s a tournament that consists of several rounds. The challenger must triumph over the king’s chosen defenders during each round. There are multiple defenders in some rounds. If the challenger survives long enough, he must defeat the king in the final round. Only extraordinary warriors ever attempt the feat because each round is to the death.”

  “Whoa. How come I’ve never heard of it?”

  “There hasn’t been a ruler to challenge.” Jeqi shrugs. “At least not in our lifetime. Queen Sula is only a regent until the next ruler is chosen.”

  “Have you seen a Royal Brawl?” Atae asks her father.

  “I defended King Uta’s honor once or twice.” Solum smirks at his daughter’s reverent gaze.

  “Wow,” Atae says. Then, she frowns. “King Uta died before Prince Truin was born, right? Why didn’t anyone try to claim the throne then?”

  “Queen Sula is well-respected by our people. She has proven her ability to rule on many occasions, so the Kaji would never have supported a usurper. Remember Atae and Jeqi that no matter who claims the throne, the Kaji decide who will lead them. They will never follow a warrior that they consider unworthy.”

  “But how do they know if the warrior is worthy?” Atae asks.

  “How do you determine the worth of a warrior?” Solum glances at her before darting his eyes back to the throng when a surge of whispers cascades through the crowd.

  “I fight them.”

  “And if you can’t fight them?”

  Solum recognizes the catalyst for the sudden buzz and faces the main entrance.

  “I watch them fight,” Atae says. Then, her eyes widen in realization. “That’s how the Kaji determine who is worthy of leading. They watch the Gridiron.”

  Jeqi elbows her packmate to hush as the throne room falls into a suffocating silence moments before the doors open and reveal the royal family. Queen Sula enters first and stops at the top of the staircase to survey the room. She notes which crests sent their heirs as she instructed. She smirks after confirming that all the Crests of Kaji are present with their heirs. No Kaji would dare defy her. Now, she must solidify her son’s rule.

  Donning an elegant red ensemble with full shoulder pads and long sleeves, Queen Sula descends the grand staircase. A silver coin emblazoned with the Ru-Kai crest sits in the center of Sula’s chest with extravagant black and silver embroidery spiraling outward across the entire bodysuit. In the royal attire, Jeqi and Atae appear young and awkward, but Queen Sula exudes power and poise. Her red outfit drapes over her curves, accentuating her toned legs and powerful arms.

  Pulling strength from the image of her son’s crest rising to power, Queen Sula ignores the crowd and sets her amber gaze on the illustration above her throne. When she steps off the stairwell, she lowers her gaze to the parting group and glides to her throne, sitting with a hard and stoic expression. Atae admires the queen’s elegance as the mid-day light shines across her face and sets her chocolate skin to glow, and her coarse hair flares out like a red and white halo.

  Atae follows Queen Sula’s gaze
across the throne room to find Prince Truin gripping the banister as he surveys his subjects. Atae wonders about his thoughts because his face is as stoic and unreadable as the queen’s impenetrable mask. Truin wears a similar red garb, fit for a young Kaji prince, which compliments his short red and white hair. Atae feels his amber gaze on her before it shifts to the rest of the royal guests. She watches her prince descend the stairs with grace as his two royal guards, Schinn and Trikk, follow suit. Atae can’t help but compare the older royal guards to Prince Truin as they follow him into the parting crowd.

  Schinn’s masculine frame is well-formed and matured compared to the younger prince, and his silver eyes and hair prove a pure bloodline that Prince Truin cannot claim. With his short white hair and black eyes, even Trikk, the eldest of the three, looks more Kaji than the prince. The older younglings have larger frames with broad shoulders and more muscle than the younger hybrid, but Atae suspects her prince will surpass their size and strength given time to mature. She surges with pride at the thought of Prince Truin proving to the doubting Kaji that he is a strong and worthy warrior.

  But is he a leader?

  The intruding thought twists Atae’s pride as she watches Prince Truin take his throne next to his mother. His guards stand at attention behind him in silent support as they watch the guests in the same fashion as Solum. Atae glances at her father and wonders if he is acting as the queen’s guard. Atae’s thoughts are pulled back to the royal family as Queen Sula speaks deep and loud for all attendees to hear.