Weaving Fate

by Octavia Kore

  “This is my mother, Nizla. She asked if you were my mate.”

  “Ah,” his mother smiled. “I can see the two of you are having a talk. You’ve got that same look on your face as when you and Ivnalth were pups and you tried so hard to conspire behind my back.”

  His memories of those times were spotty, but he could remember discovering the link with his cousin and the mischief it got them into. Would his pups be the same? Would they receive his and Clara’s abilities?

  “It’s nice to meet you, Nizla,” Clara said along the bond, her brows pinching slightly. “My name is Clara.”

  The look on his mother’s face told him that she’d been able to hear Clara’s words. Her eyes widened and she stumbled back, two hands pressed to her chest. “What was that?”

  “I’m so sorry. I should have asked Zaheer to warn you before I did that, but it’s frustrating not to be able to hear the conversation that’s happening around you.” Clara laughed softly. “If you just think your words, I’ll be able to understand you in the same way you’re understanding me now.”

  Zaheer had never met anyone who could create a mental link from nothing like she’d done with Layla and now his mother. It was like she was opening up doorways along the bond that had never existed, forging her own links.

  “Hello, Clara,” his mother said. “I never thought I would be meeting you. Don’t keep her by the door, Zaheer, bring Clara here and I’ll get something to drink.”

  Her voice was soft, and hearing it drift along the link was comforting, like being held tight against her chest after getting hurt as a pup. There was warmth and love infused within it. “We didn’t come here to visit, mother. We need to ask something of you.”

  “What is it?” his mother asked. “I’ll do whatever I can.”

  “We need to gather as much of the tribe as we can, especially the elders.” The small group of older Krunkeeli were typically the first to hear and settle the smaller disputes that didn’t require Pumo’s interference. If they could get the elders on their side, it would go a long way toward turning the minds of the others. “It’s been brought to my attention by members of my pack that Pumo has been lying to all of us. The things he’s kept hidden from us have hurt the tribe, and if we are going to be able to right his wrongs, then we need all the support we can muster.”

  His mother’s lips thinned, but she didn’t look or sound surprised. “There are far more people willing to support you than you might believe. I am not the only one to lose a pup to the High Priest. I can’t say that all in the tribe will give you a chance, but I know that many will. I can spread the word among them and—”

  Her words ended abruptly when a large dark male stepped into the room from the hall. His once solid black fur was peppered with gray and white, as was the long braid that fell down his back. A hunting belt was thrown over his shoulder, made of the same worn leather as the cloth that wrapped around his hips.

  “Nizla…” he said to Zaheer’s mother, moving toward her.

  “Elkois.” She squared her shoulders as if preparing for battle. “Zaheer has come home and has brought his mate.”

  His father’s black gaze roamed over him before jumping to Clara, and even though he knew deep down that the male likely wasn’t a threat, Zaheer wrapped his arms tighter around her body, crushing her back against his torso.

  “Clara, was it?” he asked along the bond, surprising everyone. “My name is Elkois.”

  Clara gave him a tentative smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “I was going to go speak with the elders and try to gather some of the tribe,” his mother said as his father turned to her. “The priests have—”

  “I heard.” There was something in his father’s voice that told him the other male was trying to figure out what to say. He leaned down so that their cheeks brushed and whispered something in his mother’s ear that made her lips tremble before she nodded. The other male’s dark hand cupped her face, his thumb smoothing over her white fur before he stepped back. “I’ll go to the elders and let them know that this can’t wait. We will meet in the Arms of Kheenqiets at midday.”

  Elkois moved toward the entrance, but stopped next to Zaheer, resting a hand on his shoulder. His father’s fingers flexed in his fur before he pulled away. “I’m happy you came home.”

  He might not understand how Clara was able to open the links to the bond, but he was grateful beyond words—even if he was a little overwhelmed—to experience this with the people who had created him. Even after all these rotations apart and all of the deceit, they were his family and he was going to do everything he could to keep them in his life.

  Elkois hesitated a moment longer before stepping through the membrane and disappearing from sight.

  The silence sat between them, and Zaheer shifted awkwardly. He had no idea what to say now that their plan had been set into motion. Meeting at midday didn’t give them a lot of time, but if his father could at least get him a meeting with the elders, Zaheer would count them lucky.

  His mother approached them and took both of Clara’s hands in her upper set. “I’m very thankful you chose my son.”

  “Well,” Clara glanced up at him with a crooked smile, “I didn’t exactly choose him. Neither one of us did.”

  There was no need to choose, his guardian grumbled. She was always our tsa.

  Nizla seemed taken aback by that information. “You didn’t choose one another?”

  “It’s not that I wouldn’t have chosen Zaheer. He told me that it was an accident.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of anyone accidentally marking their mate.” Nizla’s fingers traced over the raised lines on Clara’s skin and she smiled. “It does explain the… placement of the marks.” He’d seen Clara’s skin go from pale, to pink, to red before, but this time she jumped straight to the darkest shade Zaheer had ever seen her turn. His mother showed them her upper right hand, turning it palm down so that they could see the thinner lines where her fur hadn’t grown back over the scars. “Usually the mated pair takes turns wrapping their threads around their joined hands. It makes it so that even after the marks have healed, the scars line up when you hold hands.”

  He stared down at their hands and wondered if Clara resented him for scaring her in such an awkward and clumsy fashion. She would never have delicate, beautiful markings like his mother’s and that was his fault. “I wasn’t even aware my webs could burn her. I’m not sure I was old enough to understand before I left you, and after I went to live with the guardians it was considered cruel to teach those things since we would never have them.” His ignorance had caused his mate harm.

  “When Krunkeeli make their choice, they begin a courtship that involves scent marking their intended mate. The more the courting pair does this, the stronger their shared scent becomes, eventually triggering a heat that signals their bodies to produce a secretion needed to create the markings on our skin.” Nizla released Clara’s hands, her fingers brushing over her own markings. “Once the markings have been placed, it inspires the pair to complete the mating, if they haven’t already.”

  Zaheer thought back on the words his guardian spoke weeks ago. Scenting her isn’t wrong. The beast was right, it hadn’t been wrong, but Zaheer had been convinced that simply smelling like Clara wouldn’t break his vows. He didn’t regret it.

  “Yours are so pretty,” Clara told his mother.

  “Thank you. I think that your markings are as lovely and unique as you are. Vaasna has blessed me,” Nizla cupped Clara’s face. “She returned my son and gave me a beautiful daughter.”

  When Clara’s lips trembled and she sniffled, his mother glanced up at him in confusion. “Aanih,” he said, tipping her face up as a tear escaped the corner of her misty eyes. “What is it?” He pressed his lips to the reddened tip of her nose and stroked her hair.

  “I-I’ve never been anybody’s daughter before. I lived with a few different couples who were really nice, but I’ve never actually had par
ents and I have no memory of my birth family at all.”

  It was surprising to find out how similar they were in that respect. Neither one of them had lived with the people who had created them. Zaheer had been lucky to know his parents and to have had memories to hold onto, but his sweet Aanih had never known that.

  “I lost many moments and rotations with Zaheer that I will never get back,” his mother said, her eyes sad as they traced his face. “I don’t plan on losing any more time with either one of you.” Nizla glanced toward the membrane at Zaheer’s back. “It’s nearly midday. Your father might have some sway with the elders, but he won’t be able to convince the families who oppose the high priest to come without my help. I will meet you both at the Arms. Be careful.” His mother gave his arm a squeeze before disappearing through the membrane and leaving Zaheer and his mate alone in the silence of what had once been his home.

  Chapter 25

  Clara

  The spot Nizla spoke of was just on the outskirts of the center of the village. They’d picked their way carefully, Clara curled in Zaheer’s arms with one of his mother’s furs covering her so they didn’t attract any unwanted attention just yet. Massive black stone monoliths jutted up from the ground, standing sentinel over those that had tipped over or completely fallen on their sides.

  She slid her hand over the smooth, glossy obsidian-like rock, thinking of how much this reminded her of the famous Stonehenge back on Earth. That one had been impressive enough with its monoliths silhouetted against the sky, but this one, set among the towering trees in the middle of this alien forest, was strikingly beautiful. She was positive they could have easily fit four or more Stonehenges inside of this circle. Tiny blue clusters of flowers grew from the ground at the base of the stones, and from the way the grass beneath her feet was trampled and worn, Clara could tell that this was a well-loved spot.

  “My mother used to bring me and Ivnalth here when we were pups,” Zaheer said, gazing around the circle. “We would climb as high as we could and when she finally got a hold of us again we’d get a scolding about how dangerous it was for us. It's funny to me that she was so worried about our safety, knowing now that we would become guardians.”

  “I’m not an expert on moms, but I’m pretty sure worrying about their children is part of the job.” Clara wriggled in Zaheer’s arms. “You don’t have to carry me everywhere, you know?”

  “You have nothing to protect your feet,” he argued. “I’ll carry you until we find something suitable.”

  You will not win this fight, her guardian said.

  “Why do they call this place the Arms of Kheenqiets?”

  Zaheer turned so that they were facing the center of the stone circle. “In all of the texts and stories passed down by our ancestors, Kheenqiets is a strong and loving god. The legends say that he placed this here within our forest as a symbol of his love. It’s occasionally used for religious rituals and ceremonies, but Pumo prefers to keep those within the temple.” Zaheer’s head swiveled to the right. “Here they come.”

  There was uncertainty in his voice, and his muscles tensed as he shifted her in his arms. Clara rested her hand over his chest, feeling the steady pounding of his heart as she watched a crowd approach. Elkois was at the head and at his side was Nizla, who was speaking to another female. Although Zaheer and his mother were nearly identical in color, her mate’s facial structure and build obviously came from his father. They had the same hard set to their jaws and matching intense looks to their eyes.

  Zaheer retreated toward the outer ring of stones as a hundred or more Krunkeeli began to file into the circle, the weight of their eyes on Clara as they jockeyed for the best spot. Some of them climbed to the tops of the stones, perching on the edge as they waited. Clara realized for the first time just how outnumbered the guardians were. She could feel them within her mind sometimes, but she kept her mental barriers closed on that path for now. She’d be meeting them all soon enough.

  The crowd parted for the older female she’d seen Nizla speaking with and she felt Zaheer tense. This must be one of the elders. Her neck and back were bent with age and the long hair atop her head was a dull grey. White streaks speckled her dark gray fur and a grizzled hand clutched an intricately carved walking stick. While nearly everything about the female alluded to her age, her piercing black eyes told Clara there was a sharp mind behind them.

  The elder’s mouth began moving as she approached the front of the crowd, speaking words Clara could not hear. In her mind, Clara imagined a circle settling around the ring of stones, encasing the gathered Krunkeeli. It was how she’d opened up pathways for the lab survivors after their escape so she could speak with them.

  “Excuse me?” Clara raised her hand as she sent her voice down the nearly formed link. Hundreds of heads jerked, and many Krunkeeli started at the sound within their minds. “I apologize for interrupting, but if you wouldn’t mind thinking your words within your mind for me so that I can hear you, I would appreciate it. I’m not able to hear your voices when you speak out loud.”

  The elder’s eyes were wide, and her twin tails moved beneath the cover she wore draped over her shoulders. She spoke again, this time to Zaheer, who shook his head.

  “I will speak like this for now in an attempt to understand why we were called here to bear witness.” The older female’s eyes narrowed on them. “Not only have you brought an outsider into the tribe, but you’ve brought one into the Arms of Kheenqiets. Are you not meant to protect us from them, guardian?”

  Clara tried to hide her disappointment at the words. She’d known that this would likely happen, and judging by the many unhappy faces in the crowd, a lot of the others felt the same. Was it really so bad to have an alien among them? There must have been others at some point. She’d seen the inside of a very modern-looking building within Maylu’s memories, and if what Tratek had read in the book he found was correct, then there were labs on this planet that the Krunkeeli hadn’t been responsible for.

  Nizla stepped forward as if to defend them, but Zaheer held out his hand and shook his head. “It is my duty to protect all within the tribe from those who wish to harm them, not specifically from outsiders, but Clara is not an outsider. She is a guardian and my mate.” The faces in the crowd displayed a vast range of emotion. “There is much we should discuss.”

  One of the females standing near the front of the crowd spoke, and Clara felt Zaheer’s arms tighten as his body tensed. Nizla shot her a nasty glance, and Elkois grimaced, placing a hand on his mate’s shoulder.

  “If you are going to speak here, sister, then you will do it so that all present may hear you,” Elkois told the female.

  Sister? She shot Clara a look of such utter disdain that it stunned her for a moment. Tall and slim with a familiar frosty gaze that could freeze an ocean, this female was nothing if not intimidating. If Clara had to guess, she would say this was Ivnalth’s mother. Their coloring was nearly identical, and that narrow-eyed glare really sealed the deal.

  “You’ve brought shame to your pack and to the people who gave you life by breaking your sacred vows!” Her gaze was as sharp as her tone. Something about her reminded Clara of a vulture. It wasn’t hard to imagine her waiting around to feed off of the hatred and misery of others so that she could use it for her own means. “You corrupted Ivnalth as well, encouraged her disgraceful behavior. She followed a tainted Alpha who put his own selfish desires above his vows, his pack, and his people.”

  “We were pups when we took them and we should have never been bound by those vows.”

  More Krunkeeli trickled into the circle as Zaheer began to tell them about the book Tratek had discovered and all of the information it contained within its pages. He told them the story of the guardians’ true creation and what their original purpose had been. When he told those gathered that so many pups had been stolen away from their families for no reason other than the desire to have control, Clara watched some of the faces in the crowd crumble. He shared th
e tale of the first guardians and how they’d been slaughtered trying to right the wrongs the priests had committed.

  When he began speaking about Tratek and his abduction and torture by those they all considered to be good and honest Krunkeeli, a female, likely around Zaheer’s age, stepped forward. The fur on her slender body was mostly black. Thin teal lines wrapped around her arms.

  “Tratek is my youngest brother,” she said. “My parents didn’t want to give him up. They fought for him and because of that, I was forced to watch the High Priest murder them. They lost their lives because they didn’t want to lose their pup.”

  “Do you expect us to believe all of these lies?” Ivnalth’s mother snarled, ignoring Tratek’s sibling. “Did you come here to tell us of these falsehoods so that you would feel less guilty for breaking your vows? Did you hope for forgiveness? You won’t find that here. The priests will be alerted as they were with Ivnalth yesterday, and you will be taken in for your punishment.”

  “You turned her in?” Nizla asked, her disbelief clear.

  “Of course I did, just like you should have when she first visited you!”

  Nizla’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. “You’re her mother, Naaveo! She wanted to see you because she’s missed you!”

  Even though she’d only known Ivnalth’s mother for a few minutes, Clara wasn’t at all surprised that the woman would have turned her own daughter in for daring to visit her family. Clara had loved watching the insane documentaries on cults and their impacts on the people around them before the Grutex took her, and she’d seen similar behavior in those. Leathery black skin appeared in patches on Zaheer’s body, and Clara ran her hands over him. Her own guardian was pacing around the confines of her mind, snapping and snarling at the lack of emotion Naaveo showed.

  “The Alpha has told you nothing but the truth.”

  A new voice rose up from the crowd, and a tall, slender male stepped forward. His fur was white with tiny black patches sprinkled across his face and near the stripes on his forearms. Colorful beads hung from his neck and his white hair was pulled back and tied at his nape. All eight of his green eyes watched them.