by Regine Abel
The heavy stare of Clan Leader Caldes drew my attention. He didn’t avert his eyes when mine connected with his. His disapproving expression made no mystery of how he felt about my participating in the hunt. But his buddy, Hagan Lorvis, reeked with aggression. He and a few others had expressed open hostility towards me from the moment I’d set foot on Braxia and throughout last night’s meal. That they showed the same level of animosity towards Ravik and his close friends provided little comfort.
Keran walked out of the stables, followed by two massive karvelis—one slightly darker than the stones that paved the street and the other a striking shade of dark blue.
“Let me introduce you to Voltar,” Ravik said, raising his palm towards the midnight-colored beast.
The creature approached us, stopping right in front of him, and tilted his head down to press the flat front of his snout against Ravik’s hand. Ravik rubbed it in a gentle caress then held his hand up while the karvelis opened his mouth and closed his dagger-teeth around it. I gasped and placed my hand on Ravik’s forearm, ready to pull him free. He chuckled, his free arm wrapping around my waist.
“Do not fear, little bird,” Ravik said. “It is the common greeting. Voltar reminds me of how lethal he is. And I am stating that I acknowledge his strength and trust him to never use it for ill against me. Voltar,” Ravik said when the creature released his arm, “this is my female, Ravena. She is mine. She is pack.”
I stared at the beast in awe. The vertical slit of his pupil widened as his yellow, reptilian eye examined me. I instantly realized that Voltar was assessing me. The cavas also needed to accept you into their pack to allow you to mount them. Once they did, they would go to any lengths to keep you safe, even at the cost of their own life. I assumed the karvelis behaved in a similar fashion.
Moving his face away from Ravik, Voltar pressed his snout against my crotch and sniffed audibly.
I recoiled and cast a disbelieving look at my man. “Is he for real?”
Ravik’s arm tightened its hold around me, keeping me in place while his ‘pet’ sniffed away. “Relax,” he said, visibly amused with my discomfort. “He’s memorizing your scent.”
Scrunching my face, I let the creature have at it under the mocking stares of the other Braxian hunters, gathered outside the stables. Once done ‘memorizing’ the odor of my privates, Voltar raised his head to stare me in the eyes. He emitted a threatening growl and bared his teeth, sending a shiver down my spine.
Ravik held even more firmly. “Do not run,” he whispered. “It’s okay.”
“Do I look like I want to run to you?” I asked, my voice heavily laced with sass.
I instinctively knew that Voltar was testing me, evaluating my worth as his friend’s mate. If he were anything like the Xelixian cavas—and my gut said they were even more evolved than that—then his intelligence shouldn’t be underestimated. Although he couldn’t speak himself, he could understand and react upon most basic human conversations, analyze day-to-day situations, and take actions accordingly.
Holding his stare unflinchingly, I removed the bracer on my right arm and raised my hand before Voltar’s mouth. From the corner of my eye, I saw Ravik’s lips part in shock. A hush descended over the men assembled around us. My gut had told me to respond to Voltar’s challenge with one of my own, but I now wondered if I’d been too bold. Guldans valued strength and despised weakness. Ravik hadn’t needed to tell me not to run; I wouldn’t have. But, with this gesture, I was forcing Voltar’s hand into accepting me and pledging not to harm me. Would he view this as a show of trust—which it was meant to be—or as arrogance and a misplaced sense of entitlement?
To make sure he wouldn’t assume the latter, while I didn’t break eye-contact with him—which could have been construed as a show of submission—I slightly bowed my head as a display of deference to his superior strength. The threatening growl turned into a rumbling purr, indicating his approval. His mouth opened and closed over my limb, his front teeth stopping just shy of my elbow. The pointy edges of his teeth pricked my skin like so many needles, but didn’t draw blood.
He released me after a few seconds, his snake-like, split tongue shooting out to give the back of my hand a quick lick. Straightening, he turned to the side as if waiting for us to mount him.
“My goddess,” Ravik whispered with possessive pride, “you were made for me.”
Surprised, I looked up at him. I couldn’t define the expression on his face, but before I could ask any question, he drew my face to his and crushed my lips with a hunger that left me reeling and weak in the knees. When he released me, his eyes clearly said that, if not for the hunt, he would be dragging me back to his bedroom right now and keeping me there for the foreseeable future.
I slipped my armband back on. Under the heavy stares of his men, Ravik helped me up onto Voltar’s back and then climbed behind me. Something more than the karvelis accepting me had just happened, but I couldn’t figure out what. The animal’s broad back forced me to spread my legs wider than any other mount I’d ever ridden. The lack of reins or saddle unsettled me. The rider needed to learn to move in harmony with the creature to keep his balance. The only means to stabilize oneself was to lean forward and hang on to some of the horns on the side of his neck. It further drove home what Ravik had been saying about the dangers of riding the racing breed for non-Braxians. My overall shorter height and arm-length meant stretching further to get a grip on them, which would destabilize my seat on the beast.
The rest of the men mounted their karvelis, and we set off. Wonder and a sense of surrealism washed over me. Here I was, light-years away from my home world, surrounded by feral-looking giants, and riding on the back of a fearsome beast while snuggly held against the Braxian ruler’s strong body. The men looked awe-inspiring clad in their black, form-fitting, combat uniforms. Each of them had a blaster hooked to their hip, but the spears, swords, battle axes, and bows strapped to their back made me tingle with anticipation. The Braxians’ reputation on the battlefield remained unrivaled.
A massive, older Braxian with greying brown hair and green eyes rode up to us, followed closely by approximately twenty men. He nodded respectfully at Ravik before slightly falling back, although remaining in close range. I assumed him to be Elder Pattel, whose arrival we’d been awaiting before setting off. I noticed then that all of their uniforms had a colored patch on their shoulder with some kind of symbol matching the banners I’d seen hanging on the walls of Ravik’s Hall; their clan sigils.
Due to our large numbers and the size of the karvelis, we moved at a fairly slow trot and would only speed up once we’d cleared the sprawling village outside of the city walls so that the riders could spread out and avoid unfortunate accidents. That gave us a few minutes to talk before the thundering sound of our mounts’ clawed hooves—and the need to hang on for dear life—would make it impossible.
“So what was that about back there, with Voltar?” I asked. “Why did everyone look at me funny? Did I do something wrong?”
Although I’d read plenty about the Braxian culture before my arrival, and even more so after discovering through the Tuning that Ravik was my soulmate, many subtleties of the dos and don’ts escaped me.
“No, little bird,” Ravik said. “You did nothing wrong, quite the opposite. It was bold of you to present your hand to Voltar. Worst case scenario, he would have rejected you, like he has many others in the past.”
My stupid jealousy instantly reared its ugly head. I didn’t know what was up with me. I’d never been so ridiculously territorial. Then again, I’d never met my soulmate before.
“Other females?” I blurted out, kicking myself immediately for it.
Ravik chuckled smugly. “No, silly girl. That was the other part of why what you did turned out to be such a good thing.”
I cast a questioning look at him over my shoulder.
“Females do not present their hands to karvelis,” Ravik explained. “They’re too scared. The rare few who hav
e attempted to do so over the past century were all rejected. And I mean females who tried with karvelis other than mine,” he specified with a mocking tone.
That earned him a playful elbow jab in the ribs, which made him chuckle further.
“Like all those of his kind, Voltar respects strength. He would not pledge his life to one he feels wouldn’t do the same for him. He deemed you an equal, a hunter, and a protector.” The seriousness of his tone made me realize this was far more important to him—maybe even for him—than I thought. “My people obsess with purity of blood. To have an alien female by my side, one of mixed blood herself, is ruffling feathers.”
I stiffened. It didn’t surprise me, seeing how they treated half-breeds like Anton. Still, it stung. Obstacles just seemed to keep piling up against us.
“Tell me, Ravena, what are your intentions?” Ravik asked, the tension in his voice subtle, yet unmistakable.
My heart skipped a beat, uncertain how to answer. I’d always been the one avoiding commitment. A Seer had warned me that I wouldn’t meet my soulmate until after my brother’s death, so I didn’t see the point in getting attached to someone I would eventually end up leaving. The occasional affair, no strings attached, no complications, had suited me perfectly. With his current situation, strong sense of duty, and the burden of the Braxian culture, I feared he might reject anything beyond a temporary fling.
For a second, I considered playing dumb, pretending to have no idea what he was referring to. But we were both grown adults, and I wasn’t a coward.
“I thought you said that I belonged to you, and that you’d kill any other man who touched me?” I said, testing the waters.
“I know my own stance and made it clear,” Ravik said, his tone hardening. “I asked for yours.”
His stance implied keeping me, in spite of all the adversity he’d face—I hoped. Licking my lips I braced myself and took the plunge.
“How much do you know about Korletheans?” I asked, hoping he’d play along until I got to the point.
He narrowed his eyes at me. “As much as everyone else; mainly that they’re powerful psychics, Seers, and Oracles.”
I nodded in response. “They have something they call the Tuning.”
Ravik recoiled, his eyes widening.
He knows what it is.
I licked my lips again, my eyes flicking between his, trying to assess how much of it he understood.
“Veredians can feel it, too?” he asked, his gaze shifting ahead for a second to see how far Voltar had taken us.
Looking ahead, I saw that we would soon reach the open field. I turned back to him to answer his question.
“Most of us can, but not all,” I said, my pulse picking up.
“You felt it?” he asked, although his question came out more like a statement.
My throat too constricted to answer, I nodded.
“When you first met me?” he insisted.
I swallowed hard and then nodded again.
A slow smile stretched on Ravik’s lips, his eyes filled with a proud and possessive gleam. Tension bled from my shoulders, and I relaxed against him. Careful not to stab himself on my left horn, he placed a kiss on my temple.
He pressed his palm on my stomach, his fingers splayed, and his thumb moving up and down in a slow caress.
“My closest and most trusted advisors recommend that you drink moon juice for the time being,” Ravik said cautiously.
My stomach knotted, and my chest constricted. After nearly 150 years of living on the brink of extinction, Veredians had finally found a cure to our fertility problems. For my people, every birth was a blessing, regardless of the sire, or the conditions under which the child had been conceived. Contraception didn’t belong in our vocabulary. In a few weeks, I’d turn fifty. That left me another twenty-five years of fertility.
“Is that what you wish?” I asked, failing to hide the tension in my voice.
“No, it is not,” Ravik said, without hesitation. My heart soared. “But it’s not about what I want. Ultimately, it is your body. I cannot—will not—force you to drink moon juice. However, there are… things you should know before you make a decision.”
“Things about Braxia?” I asked, feeling both confused and relieved.
“About Braxia. About me.” The flash of pain and shame that crossed his eyes told me this would be a difficult talk. “But it will have to wait. For now, my mate, we hunt.”
My stomach flip-flopped at thus being claimed. Ravik kissed the top of my head, then nodded at one of the hunters near us. The man lifted to his lips a whistle-like object. When he blew in it, instead of the shrill sound I expected, it came out as the deep rumble of a foghorn. Ravik leaned forward, forcing me to follow suit. His hands reached for two of Voltar’s horns.
“Fargleh,” Ravik said in Braxian.
I didn’t need a translation device to guess its meaning. Voltar surged forward. It was a rough ride. Without Ravik’s weight holding me down, I would have bounced right off the mount. And yet, it was fucking exhilarating. The wind whipped past us, my long braid waving like a flag. The scenery quickly changed with the forest looming ahead.
Braxia wasn’t called the dark planet for nothing. Not only did it look black from space, but bright colors didn’t naturally occur in that world, whether it was in the flora, fauna, or minerals. While all basic colors could be found, they usually leaned towards the darker shades. In spite of that, it didn’t feel oppressive, giving off instead a sense of strength, power, and solemnity.
Giant, ash-colored trees with massive trunks spread their long limbs towards the sky. Dark colored green, blue, and red leaves adorned their branches. The scent of fresh dirt and wet leaves greeted us with an underlying sweeter scent, which probably came from wildflowers or wild fruits hanging from the trees or berry bushes nearby. Small critters scurried into hiding as we stampeded through their habitat.
After thirty minutes of hard riding, a signal went off on Ravik’s armband. Until its screen lit up, I had assumed it to merely be a decorative element of his armor. But based on the dots appearing on it, I recognized it as a scanning device, tracking the predators they intended to make their prey. A quick glance at the other riders indicated they, too, had detected the roaming joarkals. The number of dots and the fact that the pack was so close to the ruling clan’s compound made me uneasy.
Ravik raised a hand, and all the men slowed down. His trusted friends closed ranks around us. In the distance, we could hear the howling of the beasts. Having returned to a slow trot, Ravik released the horns and straightened, allowing me to do the same. Some of the hunters dismounted and pulled out their bows. The incredibly thick string clearly required tremendous strength to pull, more than I had without the enhancement of my Tuurean armor. They nocked their arrows, advancing at the ready.
According to Ravik, the first wave of arrows was meant to knock out some of the pack with a powerful paralytic. When I asked him why not simply shoot them with dart guns loaded with tranquilizers, he explained that the darts couldn’t pierce through the hard carapace of the creatures, unlike arrows. The arrow also made it harder for the joarkal to keep moving, giving the drug more time to take effect as they were fairly resistant to anything.
Voltar stopped, the folded leathery skin alongside his neck fanning. I stretched my neck to look above it in an attempt to see what threat he had detected. The forest stood still, even the birds having gone quiet. Besides the trees and small berry bushes, a number of long, rough-edged, light grey rocks littered the forest. Dark-red, spiky flowers grew on top, although they were probably mushrooms. Nothing else stood out. Even the foliage of the trees seemed cowed from bristling in the slight breeze.
It took me a moment, thinking at first my vision was playing tricks on me. Then, one of what I’d initially believed to be rocks, prowled with feline grace towards us. The four-legged creature seemed to be covered in stone with a broad, flat head. The maroon flowers turned out to be spikes running from its fore
head, along its spine, and down its scorpion-like tail. Vicious talons protruded from its paws.
No wonder dart guns wouldn’t work.
However badass the Braxian arrows looked, even those didn’t seem able to pierce the joarkal’s outer shell. As more of the rocks started moving, the men made a protective wall between them and us.
That annoyed me.
Ravik jumped off Voltar. From the look on his face, he’d clearly intended on ordering me to remain mounted, but it was obvious that without him to keep me stabilized, I’d likely topple off at the first step Voltar made. To be fair, I deliberately exaggerated my discomfort to force the issue. It would likely come back to bite me in the ass when we’d look at the racing breed, but I’d deal with that situation then. Reluctantly extending a hand towards me, Ravik helped me down. At the same time, the whistling sound of arrows being loosed sounded off ahead, soon followed by the pained and angry roars of the targeted beasts. With a battle cry, a first group of Braxians charged the joarkals rushing towards us.
Ravik armed his battle axe and, fisting my braid close to my scalp, he drew my face to his and gave me a hard kiss. He released me, his eyes sparkling with excitement and the anticipation of battle. Turning to face Voltar, he pressed his palm to the flat part of the karvelis’ snout.
“I entrust you with the safety of my mate,” Ravik said.
Voltar snorted, jerking his head in a way that eerily reminded me of a nod. With one last glance towards me, Ravik smiled then rushed towards the others to join the fray.
Four men stayed back, close to me, all from Krygor’s and Pattel’s clans. Among them, I recognized Gorav, Anton’s youngest, pureblood brother. He would escort me to Varrek’s home to secure it before I entered. It upset me at first that these men couldn’t partake in the hunt in order to babysit me. But I quickly realized that I was only an extra task for them to keep an eye on. They were actually tracking the movements of the predators on the terrain and directing the men towards the hot spots.