by Regine Abel
“I dare and double dare,” I snapped back. “Sit down, you fool, and learn from your betters.” Ignoring his gasp of outrage, I let my furious gaze roam over the attendance. “Your females are your greatest wealth, and you don’t even know it. This necklace,” I said, pointing at the one around my neck, “was created by the incredibly talented Vela Grumar. It’s made of nyrian stones, trash according to Braxians. What would you say if I told you I was offered ten thousand credits for the necklace, earring, and bracelet set?”
Shocked gasps resonated through the room. Eyes bulging, mouths agape, they stared at me disbelieving.
“Surprised? You haven’t heard the best part yet,” I said, making eye contact with as many people as possible. “I told the potential buyer that while this particular set was not for sale, her ten thousand offer was offensive.”
“Why would you do that?” Boros asked, flabbergasted. “That’s an insane offer for those rocks!”
“No, Clan Leader Boros. It is not,” I said, gently. “The beauty, purity, and especially the color shifting properties of the nyrian stones make them easily rival blue diamonds. I told the buyer any set she gets from Vela will be priced at a minimum of twenty-five thousand credits. She accepted.”
The attendance reacted loudly to my statement, shocked and bewildered.
“She would like at least forty unique sets within a month,” I continued, pressing my advantage. “That’s a minimum of one million credits, more even considering some of the stones are bigger and will therefore cost the buyer more. The women of Clan Grumar already have over two hundred sets ready which they’d planned to trade with other clan females during the fair.”
I gave the men a second to digest what I’d said before proceeding.
“I’ve sent samples of the craft work from your wives, concubines, and daughters to Grace Aldriss; you know, the wife of the hybrid so many of you show so much disdain towards,” I said casting a meaningful glance towards a few of the culprits. “She presented them to businesses in the VIP section of Venus Hive. She’s received large orders for the nyrian threads used for embroidering from Clan Curik, and the nyrian bejeweled decorations from Clan Hurwas. They want perfumes and beauty creams from Clan Yagor.”
Pressing my palms on top of the table, I leaned forward to give more weight to my words.
“The fishing clans too are sitting on great wealth. Those non-consumable parts you’ve considered as waste contain the toxins which your females have been turning into healing creams and poultices that are as effective as Soltarin, but without the negative side effects caused by some of its ingredients to the Inugian people. They’ve placed an initial large order, and if further tests prove conclusive, they will want to instate a permanent, regular trade for it. I could go on for another twenty-minutes listing the unique resources you possess. Not all of them will make you rich, but every single one of them stacked together will make a huge difference.”
Looking to the side at the set of tables where the females sat, their faces flushed with pride, excitement, and a bit of wariness, I waved a hand towards them.
“This is your future. Your females have been passing down a treasure trove of knowledge from mother to daughter for generations. As the humans say, one man’s trash is another man’s treasure. You have more wealth than you realize. Stop letting it go to waste.”
I sat back down under the heavy silence as the guests still reeled from all this. Snapping out of it first, Boros thumped his fist twice on his table, imitated seconds later by a few others and then by most of the attendance. A tension I hadn’t realized had been knotting the muscles between my shoulder blades suddenly loosened. I cast a sideways glance at Ravik who stared at me with open pride. He caressed my cheek with his knuckles then stood up.
“As my Ravena stated,” Ravik said, “Braxia possesses greater wealth than we know. We need fresh eyes to be able to see it. For this reason, starting next week, Ravena will occasionally accompany me during my clan tours to help assess what unique assets you possess, if any.”
Approving nods and mumbles welcomed his words.
“As for the orders Ravena received, Anton has rounded up a list of over thirty interested buyers who have consented to come to Braxia to review your merchandise and make offers. They will be here next week.” More excited murmurs rose from the tables. “Anton has volunteered to review all your contracts for free before you enter into any agreements. I strongly suggest you take him up on his offer as he knows the fair prices and will spare you getting defrauded.”
More nods ensued.
“Braxia was once one of the jewels of the Eastern Quadrant. We will endure through this hardship and rise again. The future is ours to seize, and seize it we will.” Ravik raised his glass of wine. “To Braxia!”
Everyone in attendance stood up, raised their glasses, and shouted in unison.
“To Braxia!”
CHAPTER 14
Ravik
Staring at Hagan’s despicable face across the table from me in my private chambers, countless scenarios ran through my mind as to the multitude of ways in which I could demolish it, the oh-so-satisfying sound of his bones crushing beneath my fist, and his delightful screams of agony.
Soon, you son of a krillik. Soon, I will kill you.
In the week that followed our announcements regarding potential new trades using the women’s crafts, he’d grown increasingly belligerent, going so far as to imply Mercy should be punished according to the old ways for her disrespect towards him. For that alone, I’d almost given in to the urge to kill him. Before I’d abolished that law, women were flogged if found guilty of showing disrespect to a male, or dishonoring him whether through her words or actions. The standard punishment consisted of twenty-five lashes, half of which were expected to break skin. The female would then be placed for three hours in a cage too small to stand in and too narrow to lie down or stretch. Only after that would she receive treatment for her wounds, which didn’t guarantee painkillers, based on the gravity of her offense.
Despite our barbaric ways, such punishments didn’t occur as often as one might think. Our males knew the extent of our strength compared to our females and how easily we could permanently damage or even kill them by losing control. Once was all it took. Our females also knew the severity of the punishments that would befall them for crossing certain lines and therefore trod carefully. But underlying this, no matter how dominant and superior men considered themselves to their women, they cared for their wives, concubines, and daughters, and inflicted punishments in keeping with one who loves well.
Still, too many acts of gratuitous violence condoned by our culture had been perpetrated against women. Even with the changes in law, such reprehensible acts continued to occur. Enforcing the law proved difficult with clans operating within the privacy of their own compounds which made reporting it less likely. Once more, it came down to laying the foundations and then working on changing mentalities.
But people such as Hagan couldn’t change because they didn’t want to. They enjoyed the power conferred to them by the old ways. And above all, they loved the easy profit from taking advantage of others. The success of the merchant meeting organized with Anton’s help had left him more bitter than ever. The high demand for some of the goods—mainly the beauty products, and jewelry, and some of the nyrian woven fabric—had prompted Anton to offer to provide a prime real estate location on Venus Hive to run a Braxian shop, free of charge for two years. As a grain farmer, Hagan wouldn’t benefit from the potentially insane profits the struggling clans could reap.
“I believe this is all moving too fast and creating unrealistic expectations,” Hagan complained for the billionth time.
“The clansmen are well aware that there are no guarantees,” Krygor said, dismissively. “Weren’t you the one demanding we give the people hope? We’ve taken concrete steps and still you complain?”
“Your half-breed is once again trying to control the process with this shop idea,”
Hagan argued. “When he decides he no longer wants us there, what will happen?” he asked turning to Raylor Caldes for support.
Raylor hesitated, a troubled look crossing his features. “Technically, he would be bound by the terms of the two-year contract he suggested. It is an extremely generous offer on his part and actually a loss.”
I suspected my face reflected the same shock as everyone else’s. Raylor had grown quite subdued since the whole debacle he had initiated by inviting the Guldans. But his hatred for Anton and the whole of Clan Aldriss had been legendary. We’d all expected him to jump at the opportunity to trash him.
“I know of the location he’s proposing,” Raylor explained in a somewhat defensive tone in light of our reactions. “It would rent for millions of credits per month. He’s giving up a lot for nothing in return, while giving us access to the richest clientele in the Eastern Quadrant. Those who come to pleasure barges want to spend and be extravagant. With the store, we get to charge full price instead of the lower price we would normally get from trading with resellers.”
“You’re only defending him because you seek to profit from this,” Hagan said, bitterly.
“Wouldn’t you?” Raylor snapped back. “Duralium doesn’t sell anymore. People want Titanium. My clan entirely depends on Anton’s mercy in buying our metal sheets to expand and maintain his space stations. Unlike you with your farms, we had no other prospects until now. We don’t have anything as fancy as nyrian turned out to be, but our females have been crafting beautiful decorative items using metal shavings with colorful resins. My wife has actually initiated talks with Boros’ daughter for some jewelry concepts combining both our resources. Whatever my personal feelings, I have a duty to my clan, and I will see to it.”
I was too shocked for words. Raylor had always been a practical man, but he was proving smarter and wiser than I’d expected. After the banishment of his son and his subsequent execution, Raylor had made one bad decision after another, and systematically associated with the wrong crowd. Maybe he could be redeemed after all.
“The topic isn’t open for debate anyway,” I said, ready to move on to another subject. “Anton will be reviewing with each clan the proposals submitted during yesterday’s meeting with the merchants; advising them as to which ones are worth pursuing or that require amending.” Locking eyes with Hagan I smirked with undisguised malice. “If you fear losing your elite clan status, I suggest you stop fighting change and get onboard so that you’re not left behind.”
Hagan pinched his lips, looking for some snarky reply. A sudden commotion outside my chamber had my warning bells firing up.
“Ravena! No!” Tagar’s muffled voice yelled from outside. “You can’t go in there!”
My shoulders tensed at the sound of Ravena’s angry growl seeping in through the closed door. My councilmen exchanged confused looks, while my eyes remained glued to the entrance. I rose to my feet just as the door burst open. Time appeared to stand still when she stepped inside. A feral expression on her face, a low, menacing growl rising from her throat in a constant flow, Ravena prowled towards the table like a predator, staring at me like prey.
And then it hit us: the potent scent of her arousal. This wasn’t just my female being in the mood, this was her mating heat. It struck me like a punch in the gut, setting my blood on fire as it rushed to my groin. My councilmen’s noses twitched, their nostrils flaring, and eyes widening. A few of them grabbed their crotches, pained expressions on their faces as Ravena’s scent spurred their male instinct to sate the needs of the prime female.
“Mine,” Ravena hissed, her eyes locked on me.
Moving so fast she blurred, Ravena closed the distance with three long steps, leapt between Krygor and Pattel onto the table, before throwing herself at me. Although I caught her, the force of the impact had me stumbling a couple of steps back, knocking my chair out of the way. Legs wrapped around my waist, she tore my shirt open with supernatural strength.
“Mine!” she hissed again. Still clawing at the remaining shreds of my shirt, she covered my neck and chest with hungry kisses.
“Ravena, stop!” I said, trying in vain to control her.
Slipping a hand between us, she ripped open the magnetic clasp of my pants and caught my cock in a vise-like grip. I grunted in pain and, hooking my hands under her armpits, I peeled her off me and slammed her back onto the top of the table. I clenched my teeth as she nearly tore off my cock, trying to hang onto it before it slipped out of her hand.
“Enough, woman!” I growled, as she used her legs to draw me closer and wiggled her hips to get some friction.
The short hem of her dress rode up, giving me a full view of her black thong, soaking wet with need. The scent of her musk slapped me hard. My stomach cramped painfully with burning desire. My exposed cocked jerked and throbbed. I felt dizzy, all rational thoughts fleeing. Ravena lifted her head, one hand stretching to get a hold of my shaft again. I caught her wrist, but lightning fast, she brought it to her face and brutally bit me. I yelped and, letting go, I wrapped my hand around her throat and slammed her back down on the table. She writhed and struggled against my hold, clawing my arm hard enough for angry welts to rise.
“I ache!” she cried out, unable to get free.
The pain, anguish, and desperation in her voice broke what resistance I had left. A lustful haze descended upon me, blurring my surroundings. Nothing mattered anymore but my mate’s hot, willing body before me, the maddening scent of her desire, and the throbbing stiffness between my legs.
“Father, no! You’ll kill her!”
I heard the words and vaguely recognized them as coming from my oldest son, but nothing mattered; only the searing heat of my woman’s pussy engulfing me as I rammed myself home in one powerful thrust. Ravena’s back arched off the table, her horns scraping against the hard surface with a raking sound. Her strangled cry of pain soon turned into a hungry moan.
“Yes! Yes!” she cried out as I pounded into her.
Her throaty moans, the rippling caress of her inner walls squeezing and massaging my shaft with each thrust had my stomach quivering from the waves of pleasure washing over me.
“Ancestors…” a voice whispered. “No Denax?”
A sliver of rational thinking pierced through the haze. “Get out!” I growled, my eyes never moving away from my beautiful female’s face, her stunning features dissolved in an expression of pure bliss.
The scraping sound of chairs as my council rose to their feet was soon followed by the door closing behind them.
Releasing her neck, I wrapped my hands around both of her horns, lifting her head up. One of them resisted slightly, having gotten stuck in the surface of the table. Without slowing down my punishing pace, I crushed her mouth with a brutal, but brief kiss. Half-sitting at the edge of the table, Ravena wrapped her hands around my arms, near the elbow creases, as I held on to her horns. My thumbs rubbed their bases, pressing the specific points I knew to be most sensitive. Her head jerked backwards, and her eyes rolled as she unraveled with a guttural cry.
Arms falling to the side, Ravena’s body shook from the spasms of her climax. One hand on her back, I held her up, and continued to pump in and out of her boneless body until she came down from her high. I wrested another orgasm from her before surrendering to my own release.
Panting, electric sparks of pleasure going off on every single one of my nerve endings, I laid Ravena back down on the table and leaned over her. She clung to me, nails digging into my back as if she feared I’d disappear or go away. Cock still buried balls deep inside my woman, I gently brushed aside the few locks of hair stuck to her forehead by a thin sheen of perspiration.
“You’ll be the death of me, little bird.”
Eyes smoldering, her dark gaze lowered to my lips but didn’t seem to register the meaning of my words.
Her inner walls throbbed around me, and she lifted her pelvis.
“My beast,” she whispered with a possessiveness that had my hea
rt soaring with joy. “Again.”
I snorted and shook my head.
“You’ll be the death of me,” I repeated, kissing her before resuming my most pleasurable duty.
* * *
Ravena stirred against me as the morning light trickled into our bedroom. I couldn’t tell which one of us was the sorest. I had heard of the Veredians’ insane sexual appetite during their season, but this went above and beyond anything I could have ever imagined. I didn’t look forward to facing my council again, having taken the coward’s way out last night by having dinner with my woman in the privacy of our room.
My woman…
I’d fallen hard and fast for her. I never really questioned her saying we were soulmates, but now, no doubt lingered in my mind. And yet, the closer we grew together, the greater the gap that formed between us. Tossing the blanket to the side, I let my gaze roam over the perfection of my woman’s golden body; her stunning face and slender neck, the soft curve of her shoulders covered in those lovely Veredian markings, her perky breasts with plump, dark-brown nipples, her flat stomach and narrow waist, which flared into beautifully rounded hips, and ended with long, shapely legs. My index finger circled the ring of her navel before my hand rested on her stomach, my thumb caressing it in a slow, tidal movement.
She could already be carrying my offspring. We’d been very active prior to her season beginning. But now, at the height of her fertility, and seeing how we’d been at each other almost non-stop, if my seed hadn’t taken root yet, it would very soon. Despite the fear it inspired in me, thinking of all the ways that this child and my mate could be hurt, I wanted to sire Ravena’s first child—and any other she would have. My fingers tightened protectively over her stomach.
Ravena stiffened.
Looking up at her face, I found her awake, observing me with a troubled expression. Eyes locked with hers, I slowly rubbed my palm over her belly, making clear the nature of the thoughts coursing through my mind. Her eyelashes fluttered, and then she averted her eyes. I frowned, a sinking feeling settling in the pit of my stomach. Slipping a hand behind Ravena’s nape, I nudged her to look back at me. As my gaze bore into hers, searching, the sense of unease grew exponentially.