Ravik's Mercy (Braxians Book 2)

by Regine Abel

  “Krygor?” Ravik asked.

  I nodded.

  “Boros warned us something was going down with Hagan rallying the Fifteen,” Krygor said through the com. “We’re less than fifteen minutes away. Stay safe.”

  “Hurry.” I ended the com then turned to Ravik. “Fifteen minutes max.”

  What a strangely coincidental number.

  We exchanged a look, both coming down to the same conclusion: we could hold until help arrived. Their blood was ours.

  Taking cover behind one of the giant trees, the trunk at least two meters in diameter, I activated my suit’s disrupting field, which I hoped was strong enough to prevent any scanners they might use from detecting Ravik’s presence.

  Less than three minutes later, angry voices reached us. My hearing, enhanced by my suit, allowed me to distinguish their words clearly.

  “For the hundredth time, Hagan, what is the meaning of this?” Raylor Caldes asked, his irritation unmistakable. “We have the Guldan spies. Let’s just take them back to Ravik’s Hall and end this.”

  “There’s another. And I have a surprise for you all,” Hagan said, sounding smug.

  A few knowing laughs hailed his comment.

  “And what surprise would that be that should interest the remaining Fifteen and the Magnar’s most vocal detractors?” Boros asked, blatant hostility in his voice.

  Hidden by my armor’s cloak, I leaned to the side to have a look at the men as they closed the distance to our location. Three Braxians I didn’t know had blasters trained on three shackled Guldans who appeared to have been fairly roughed up.

  “Something that will solve all of our problems, once and for all,” Hagan snapped. “I will not sit by, idly waiting to be taken out by a madman!”

  “Wait, what?” Raylor asked. “I thought we were here to capture the last Guldan spy. What’s going on?”

  Hagan stopped next to a dark rock and pressed his foot on the grass in a specific pattern. Seconds later, the ground parted, and the lift platform appeared.

  “What is that? Where does it lead?” Raylor asked again, the tension steadily rising in his voice.

  “The hunter’s lodge,” Hagan said, in a hard voice. “You know damn well what’s going on.”

  “Oh no! No, no, no!” Raylor said, backing away. “Have you lost your mind? You touch that female, and you will bring civil war upon us. Do you have any idea what the Magnar will do to you and your clan?”

  “You are a fool, Hagan,” Boros said. “Take these Guldans to Ravik to earn his favor and forget all this madness. Whatever your feelings towards him, both he and his female have done good for Braxia.”

  “How?” Hagan yelled. “By emasculating us and putting our females to work? He’s making us weak. Braxians are warriors! That Guldan whore has him so enthralled he’s only thinking with his cock. He learned nothing from the past and impregnated her. It is time we remind him of the ways of Braxia and end his reign.”

  “Ancestors!” Boros whispered, looking at the men around him. “Fifteen Braxians. You’ve brought us here to repeat that abomination from all those years ago. You are insane! I will have no part in this!”

  “Nor I,” said Niklas Colben, coming to stand by Boros.

  “Nor I,” said Raylor, joining them.

  “He will kill you both!” Hagan shouted, pointing at Boros and Niklas. “You were part of the Fifteen. And you, Raylor, he’s had your first born flayed over a fucking half-breed. Have you no pride? Have you no honor?”

  “I lost a son because of his own stupidity!” Raylor yelled. “He almost brought down my entire clan with him. Whatever my personal feelings about the Magnar, I am no traitor to Braxia. This is treason!”

  I cast a shocked glance towards Ravik who stared at the tree trunk as if he could see the men through it, seething rage on his face.

  “It is too late to wimp out now,” Yorbek said, one of the Fifteen, aiming a blaster at the three. “You’re here now, and you’re going to help us see this through. What his inner circle has hidden from everyone is that the Magnar and his whore are both our prisoners. Why do you think Pattel and Krygor suddenly cancelled all of his engagements?”

  “She’s all prepped and ready for our cocks,” Hagan said in a sadistic tone. “And I can tell you first hand that she doesn’t need Denax to take a Braxian. So get down there now.”

  “I don’t think so,” Ravik said, stepping from behind the tree.

  “I don’t think so either,” I said, deactivating my cloak.

  “Impossible!” Hagan breathed out.

  And then chaos reigned.

  Yorbek turned his blaster towards us, but I shot him first with my own blaster, set to stun. He wouldn’t get off that easy. He would suffer as he had intended for both Ravik and I to suffer—more even. Boros, Niklas, and Raylor threw themselves at three of the other Braxians. The Guldans tried to escape, causing the right diversion for me to stun their guards.

  With a battle roar, Ravik charged our enemies. Fear kept a few of them paralyzed for a moment and then they jumped into action. Unlike the day of the hunt, they had not brought swords. While I had no qualms using the blaster and my makeshift blade, Ravik went in with his bare fists. The first man shifted his head to the right, avoiding the blow only for Ravik’s other fist to land solidly in his gut. It hit him with such force he was lifted off his feet. He doubled over and Ravik brought down an elbow hard on the back of his neck, raising the other one to block an attack from another man. He kicked the second man hard in the chest, making him fly backwards. Turning back to the first man, he grabbed him by the neck, lifted him up with one hand, and slammed the back of his head on the ground. Dazed, he tried to get back up but never had a chance; Ravik’s foot stomped down hard on his face. Even through the loud noise of battle, the sickening crunching sound resonated loud and clear. The man’s body jerked violently before going still.

  The second man charged Ravik again, who met his attack head on. Hagan tried to seize the opportunity to attack him from behind. Racing forward, I threw my makeshift dagger at him. It embedded itself in the meaty area below his shoulder. Hagan yelled and lost his momentum. He stumbled back away from Ravik while trying to remove the blade which remained out of his grasp. I reached him just as he started turning towards me. I backhanded him, my strength increased by the armor. His head jerked to the right, and then he screamed, his entire body seizing as I jammed the taser wand into his gut at maximum intensity. I pulled away the wand and yanked the blade from his shoulder. He cried out and swung his arm at me. I ducked and tased him again, but this time in the balls. Hagan started doubling over but I head-butted him, my horns cracking the bones of his prominent brows. He stumbled back and I slashed the blade across his stomach, enough to make him bleed, but not deep enough to kill.

  An incoming Braxian forced me to step away from my prey. Unlike Hagan, this one was truly a warrior and put me on the defensive. Too fast for me to get a hit in, and too strong for me to sustain any of his blows without breaking, I kept dodging and backing away, seeking an opening that would give me the advantage. It came in the form of Ravik’s whip wrapping around the man’s neck and yanking him back. Or rather, my beast took over from there, bashing the man’s face into a pulp, his victim’s blows glancing off him seemingly without effect.

  I turned back to see Hagan running off just as the sound of Krygor’s approaching shuttle joined the chorus of battle.

  “Ravik!” I yelled, extending a hand towards him.

  Needing no more to guess I wanted the whip, he tossed it in my direction before resuming bashing on his helpless opponent. The wet spots on his back indicated his wounds had reopened, but it didn’t seem to trouble him. I caught the whip mid-air and then chased after Hagan. The ground suddenly rushed towards me. Yorbek, having recovered from the stun, tripped me as I ran past him. I fell hard with an oomph. Rolling on my back, I raised the taser wand just in time to zap him as his massive hands reached for me. He shouted then slapped it out of
my hand, hard enough that I feared for a second that he’d broken my fingers. Grabbing my dagger, I slashed at his face. He screamed and recoiled as the blade cut across his nose and cheek. Scrambling to my feet, I pushed a command inside the nanites of the makeshift weapon and threw it at him. He tried to avoid it but the improvised weapon found its mark, sinking into his side. Boros tackling him to the ground spared me from further delay in hunting down Hagan.

  That son of Gharah was mine.

  Ignoring Yorbek’s tortured scream, I gave chase again. Boros would have no trouble with Yorbek as the blade would soon finish him anyway. The metal was reshaping itself to spread inside his body as tendrils the size of needles, piercing their way through organs and tissue.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Krygor’s shuttle land, but didn’t stop. Despite his significant head start, Hagan didn’t have the speed of a Veredian. Arms and legs pumping, I quickly closed the distance between us, grateful for the painkiller and the healing nanites of my suit that kept me going. To my greatest pleasure, I sensed a large presence of basic nanites in the whip, a type often used to help soften leather or as part of the products used to treat it. An evil plan formed in my mind as I shot Hagan with the stun gun at the lowest setting; I didn’t want him unconscious, just slowed down a little, thanks to the stun setting of Guldan blasters being weak against Braxians.

  Hagan stumbled, barely managing to keep himself from face-planting, then screeched when the whip licked his back. He turned around, his eyes wide with fear and pain. Anger descended upon his feature once he realized I—a female—was attacking him. He stepped towards me but I stunned him again, following up with three quick lashes which I didn’t hold back, almost every blow tearing skin. He covered his face and tried to come at me, but I repeated the process of stun and whiplashes, counting his lashes out loud, until he fell to his knees.

  By the thirtieth, Elder Pattel, Clan Leader Fenton, and a mix of their men surrounded us, none of them interfering. I no longer bothered with the blaster as I circled around Hagan, making sure every inch of his body felt my wrath. Ignoring the burn in my arm and the exhaustion seeping in, I carried out his punishment until it met fifty lashes. Breathing heavily, I stared with hatred at the back of the bloody mess kneeling before me.

  With the battle clearly over, more men gathered around us, bearing witness in silence. My eyes locked with the beloved face of my beast. The same merciless flame that burned within me raged in his gaze.

  Marching towards Hagan, I wrapped the whip around his waist and arms, letting the handle hang over his shoulder. Heedless of the confused looks of the Braxians, and the tortured whimpers from the traitor, I pushed a command into the nanites of the whip. Standing next to Hagan while the nanites tightened around him, I faced the men observing us.

  Glad that I’d decided to wear my clothing beneath my armor after all, I deactivated the latter, revealing the wounds from the lashing I’d received as well as my Veredian markings. I lifted my chin in defiance at the surprised gasps.

  “Yes. I am a Veredian-Guldan hybrid—a half breed as some of you like to say,” I said, with a hard voice. “I will no longer hide my true nature for fear of narrow-minded people hunting me because of what the Goddess made me. I will no longer suffer being bullied or threatened for the right to live or to be free because of what I am—for the right to love my soulmate,” I added, my gaze resting on Ravik.

  The pride in his face further energized me.

  “If you have a problem with my presence, learn to suck it up, because only one person has the power or the right to send me away, and that’s him,” I said, pointing a finger at my mate, who puffed his chest. “Don’t fuck with a Veredian. We may look sweet and delicate, but when it comes to our survival, we don’t play. The next one who thinks to come at me, this will be nothing in comparison to what will befall you,” I said, waving at Hagan. “I have only one mercy, and that’s my name.”

  Right on cue, his groans of pain turned to strangled screams as the whip tightening on him cut off his circulation and squeezed his bones to the verge of breaking point. Soon, they would cave in, and he would be crushed to death as the nanites continued, endlessly, their effort to close as much as possible. The men cast a horrified look as the bones of one of Hagan’s arms broke, and then eyed me warily.

  “Your Dagna has spoken,” Ravik said, before approaching.

  “Hail the Dagna!” Krygor shouted.

  “Hail the Dagna,” the men repeated, slapping their chests with their fist.

  Taking me by the hand, Ravik led us back to the small clearing where the shuttles of our allies had landed, leaving Hagan to his agonizing death.

  EPILOGUE

  Ravik

  In the three weeks that followed, I sat in judgment of far more trials than I cared to. Only three of the fifteen men that had come to the secret entrance had refused to join this treason—three men I would have once labeled my enemies. Of the remaining twelve, nine of them had not even been part of the original Fifteen. Their greed and resentment against the changes I was making to Braxia had been their downfall. Only four of those twelve had survived the battle. For their swift and exemplary punishment, I’d personally flayed them alive before having them nailed to a pillar outside their respective clan compounds to meet a slow death. There they would remain to rot for a full month.

  In the meantime, all twelve clans came groveling for mercy. But each had to prove they held no prior knowledge of their Clan Leader’s intentions. Nine of the clans were spared. After I passed a judgement of Shunning on the remaining three, the clansmen from two of those clans banished the members that had been involved or been aware of the plot before pleading for leniency. Although I lifted the Shunning—which effectively meant the death of a clan with no one trading, dealing, or speaking with them—the stigma on their name would remain for a long while.

  Mercy sat by my side throughout the trials and for every ruling. Some of the conservatives balked at a female’s presence but kept their mumbling to a minimum. My woman had earned the respect and loyalty of my people. She’d first earned her place with those trade deals she’d negotiated for many of our clans in the direst need, and then cemented it with her display of strength, combat skill, and the ruthless savagery she’d dealt to those who crossed her. Hagan’s mangled remains, his bones shattered by the shrinking whip, had been put on display at the entrance of his compound, a reminder to all who dared to cross her that retribution would be swift and unforgiving.

  Mercy became Braxia’s first new Dagna in nearly 150 years, my father and grandfather having both been content to sire their heir on concubines—as I had before meeting her. And she held the role with pride and dignity. As much as Braxians had rejected hybrids, finding out their Dagna was one of the rarest Veredians alive made them rally further behind her. She could have the world at her feet but chose us. My people now considered her a national treasure, the jewel of Braxia. Any attack or threat against her would be construed as an affront against all of us.

  To think I had feared revealing her true nature.

  To both Mercy’s and my relief, Gorav and my bodyguards came out of this unscathed, aside from their wounded pride over their failure to keep us from getting kidnapped and tortured.

  The three Guldans that had been held captive by Hagan were hobbled and dumped in the joarkal hunting territory for daring to aid Lorik in his attempted kidnapping of my mate. They’d merely been mercenaries hired by the Guldan Ambassador for his personal purpose. But while the Guldan Empire had no direct involvement in this, they had orchestrated the previous attack against us. We therefore sent a formal message to Emperor Ardrak that a full embargo had been set against any Guldan. No trade and no citizen of their home world would be allowed on Braxia. He tried to flex his muscles, threatening retaliation against us, only to have the Tuurean military leader, Admiral Lee, warn them that any attack on Braxia would be deemed an attack against them.

  My Dagna had some powerful allies, and that, to
o, raised her prestige among our people. Granted, we didn’t have a full alliance with the Tuureans as they would only intervene in the case of a war with Guldar. However, I intended to nurture that relationship until it equaled, or even rivaled, the one they entertained with the Xelixians.

  It would take two more weeks after the trials before Mercy agreed for us to have our wedding. Despite my personal physician doing miracles healing both our wounds, leaving no scars on her, and barely noticeable ones on me, the loss of her braid had struck her hard. I didn’t fully understand its importance, but her hair was growing back, and we had returned it to its original raven color. Yet, she felt bare and exposed without it, not to mention crippled in that it played an important defensive and offensive role in combat.

  Mercy had taken to tying her hair in a bun to ‘hide’ how short it now was, refusing to wear a wig or extensions. But Braxian weddings, although expedited, required both mates to stand barefoot and naked except for a diaphanous robe, no jewelry or adornment, and no fancy hairdo. We’d exchanged our vows on the plaza before the Elders and the people, after which each Clan Leader took turns pledging loyalty and protection to the Dagna. A banquet followed with lots of drinking. To my dismay, Mercy warned me that she expected us to have a proper Veredian wedding the day we visited her family on Xelix Prime. It involved some extensive form of tribal dance to be performed by the bride and groom, as well as their guests.

  I shuddered at the thought.

  We held the fair two weeks after our wedding, Anton coming through for us above and beyond expectations. I didn’t doubt that the news of the Veredian Dagna brought even more people, if only out of curiosity. Nevertheless, many more of our goods, previously perceived as useless by us, stirred the interest of buyers and new deals were struck. But Braxia’s economy still had a long way to go, with many clans struggling. However, with more and more clans getting back on their feet thanks to these new trades, the burden on the Emergency Fund to support the others while they found their way, diminished significantly.