Hands of Fate (Veredian Chronicles Book 5)

by Regine Abel

  “Yes,” Xevius said sheepishly.

  He looked so adorable in his guilt that my heart couldn’t help but melt.

  “Tell me then,” I said, in a conciliatory tone. “Go on,” I insisted when he seemed to hesitate.

  “Remember when Killian held Valena’s hand to his face when she was testing him?” Xevius asked.

  I nodded, slightly taken aback.

  “After the fact, I questioned Valena about it. The way she’d stared at us, I suspected the information concerned us.”

  I frowned, a sliver of worry taking root in the pit of my stomach.

  “Do not worry,” Xevius said reassuringly. “It’s nothing bad. Well, I hope…”

  My brows shot up, properly intrigued, just as he had intended for me to be.

  “Killian told her that the daughter you and I will have will mate Valena’s twins.”

  My jaw dropped, making Xevius chuckle.

  “Excuse me?” I asked, disbelieving.

  “Trehvus and Dhaxius will marry our little Lyra,” my mate repeated.

  My brain froze for a second, and then the heat of his palm on my stomach suddenly felt like a searing iron. Eyes wide, I gave him a questioning look, my hand resting over his.

  “Are you saying…?”

  “No, my mate,” Xevius said, shaking his head sadly. “Which confuses me, too. Eryon said you and I would conceive our daughter during our trip to Korlethea. But it’s been over a month now, and I still don’t perceive her psionic waves. If we were pregnant, she would have touched my mind by now.”

  What?!

  I gaped at him for a moment, my brain trying to recover from the shock.

  “How could he ‘see’ that? Conception shouldn’t be something that prophecy can show,” I argued.

  “True,” Xevius conceded. “But he saw my death, and then he saw a vision of you with our daughter at age five. According to his sense of the timeline, it happens five years from now.”

  “But you didn’t die,” I countered. “Or rather, you came back. Had Zhara not brought you back, then yes, Lyra would have had to have been conceived during that flight. But you lived. Maybe we just made her moments ago, or we will in the upcoming days or weeks. That would still have her be five years in the window of Eryon’s prophecy.”

  Despite my mind breaking down the logic, the implications of my upcoming pregnancy had my emotions all over the place. Watching my sisters become mothers had filled my heart with a longing that almost led me to marry Sohr. And now, the idea of a mini version of Xevius in my arms made me feel faint with joy and love.

  And then a dark thought crossed my mind.

  “She would have never known you,” I said, my chest constricting with unpleasant memories of my sire.

  “She would have,” Xevius said in a soft voice. He smiled at my confused expression and stood up. Extending me a hand, my mate helped me up to my feet. “Hang on. Interface. Access Xevius folder Lyra.”

  A holographic interface appeared in front of Xevius, displaying a series of holovids, audio recordings, and holodeck scenes. My eyes widened at the large number of them with a creation date matching our journey to Korlethea, then many more recorded after our return to Xelix Prime.

  He uploaded the scene labelled Shayastra. The beach turned into the grand plaza of the Falls of Shayastra, one of the most beautiful landmarks of Korlethea, and a ceremonial ground. A holographic representation of Xevius stood alone in the center of the plaza, talking to our future daughter. He described a Korlethean rite of passage she would have normally gone through once she’d achieved psionic maturity. He repeated the words, the gestures of the ritual, explaining the meaning of each. In the end, he had encoded a simulation that would allow him to walk our daughter to the Altar of Fate where a Korlethean priest would give her the blessing while her father presented her to the Fates.

  Throat tightened, I blinked away the wetness blurring my vision. Xevius presented one recording after another that he had made for our child to make sure Lyra would have known she’d been wanted and loved by her father. Through tears and laughter, I watched his hologram show her dance steps, reenact some classic Korlethean tales, and sing in the old tongue.

  “Why did you continue the recordings even afterwards?” I asked, confused.

  “Because I do not know if and when I will be allowed to visit Korlethea again,” he said, holding me in front of him. “While our daughter will be mainly raised as a Veredian, I want her to know her Korlethean heritage as well. I want to be there with her whenever she wishes for me, even if I’m away on a mission. And, truthfully, I’ve developed a taste for it,” he added timidly.

  “Do you have any idea how amazing you are?” I asked, blown away that he had accomplished all of that without me even noticing.

  “I don’t know,” Xevius said with false modesty. “Maybe you could help refresh my memory.”

  I slipped my hand through the silky strands of his hair and pressed my naked body against his. Xevius wrapped his arms around me, and we exchanged a deep, slow kiss, filled with love and a passion devoid of the animal hunger that often took us over, even now that my season had ended. But right this instant, a different fire animated us.

  Xevius lowered us to the ground, summoning a different setting that I had never seen before—or at least didn’t think I had. But I couldn’t be sure as my gaze never strayed from my mate’s. Words were no longer necessary between us. The depth of his feelings for me, and mine for him, flowed freely through our empathic bond that kept strengthening with each passing day. His hands exploring my body were gentle, and his mouth reverent as it kissed and tasted every inch of me.

  And I, in turn, leisurely rediscovered the perfection of my man. I loved how he shivered beneath my touch, the soft feel of his skin over his hard muscles, the spicy-sweet flavor of him on my tongue, and his voluptuous moans as I licked, nipped, and stroked him. When his body fused with mine in the most ancient of dances, I could no longer tell where he ended and where I started. We were one body and one soul through our empathic bond, our mutual sensations enhanced by each other’s. Our climax wasn’t the bone-crushing earthquake of our wilder couplings, but the ultimate crescendo of an aria in which we vibrated in perfect harmony.

  Cocooned in the infinite tenderness of my mate’s emotions, I once more silently thanked the Goddess that she should have blessed me with him.

  * * *

  The holodeck’s virtual retreat soon came to an end with Axios looming in the distance. Since our approach would immediately alert the Axian government—who would, in turn, warn its delinquent citizens—we launched our shuttles in stealth mode, carrying the brunt of our strike teams. Just like we had done on our previous raid of the mercenary planet, we wanted all of our people in position before contacting ground control.

  Axios was where criminals came to ‘legitimately’ run their illegal business. Here, as long as you paid your taxes, the government didn’t ask any questions about whatever type of trade you indulged in. It didn’t matter how you acquired anything you owned or sold. While slavery was officially forbidden to avoid problems with the Galactic Council, as long as you didn’t get caught, the government happily turned a blind eye. However, anyone breaking their very lax rules in a way that would bring too much unwanted scrutiny to their planet would get unceremoniously thrown out. But for any other ‘milder’ crimes, whenever a complaint was filed, the government would multiply the legal proceedings and unreasonable demands of proof of wrongdoing. In most cases, the victims gave up in light of the exorbitant litigation costs or the pointlessness of it all.

  But Sunam was no small fish. Bringing down such a big player would make waves among the other mercenaries. While we had other rescues currently ongoing in other parts of the Quadrant, none required the military might we had assembled for this one. Khel had warned that once we launched the attack, other mercenaries might show up in an effort to defend one of their biggest players and job providers.

  Maheva had refuse
d to be left behind. While she and her mate would remain safely onboard the Tempest, Amalia would join us on the terrain—to Khel’s utter dismay. Being of the Warrior breed, my niece could rival most of our Tuureans in single combat, thanks to both Khel and me training her. However, it wasn’t her battle prowess that justified her presence, but her unparalleled hacking ability. With her psi power, Amalia could break into and take control of pretty much any system or software, even via uplink. As revealed by the Korletheans’ surveillance report, with his wealth, Sunam had set up his mansion—more like a compound—with the finest technology. Naturally, both of her mates insisted to stand by her side on the field.

  Mercy, too, had demanded to tag along. I had expected her mate and his people to complain about their Dagna leaving her duty to the realm to go expose herself to danger. Instead, many Braxians challenged each other to have the honor of joining her and the Magnar in this glorious battle. I had seen the Braxians spar and heard of their prowess in combat, and now I couldn’t wait to finally fight alongside them to see what the hype was all about. An accomplished fighter herself, Mercy would tag along with Amalia to infect whatever system she and Amalia deemed beneficial to our cause.

  Being pregnant, Aleina would remain onboard the Tempest to coordinate the attack with Ghan. With Xelixian pregnancies, the sire couldn’t risk exposing himself to danger as frequent contact with the fetus was required to ensure its proper development. Should Ghan die before the birth, their child could also perish or be born with severe physical or mental defects.

  A palpable excitement filled our shuttle comprised of Tuureans, Korletheans, and Braxians as we completed our approach over the Morian Desert to a magnificent oasis. Smack in the middle of it, a pyramid-shaped, multi-tiered mansion stood proudly in a sea of yellow sand beneath a cloudless, amber sky. Once in position at a safe enough distance from their potential detection range, we gave Khel the signal.

  His uncloaked shuttle began its approach. With his face being too well-known, Khel stayed at the back while one of Ravik’s bodyguards piloted the vessel. As was common with mercenaries, the shuttle’s advanced technology prevented our prey from scanning us. Finding this unusual mix of species traveling together risked giving us away.

  As expected, as soon as they came within range of the mansion, the guards automatically activated the estate’s defenses. Although we couldn’t see what was happening on Khel’s shuttle, we knew the guards had hailed them demanding to know their intention when the shuttle slowed and remained stationary. They used a method similar to the one that had worked so well for them during the first Blood House raid on Xelix Prime. This time, instead of faking technical problems, they pretended that they were coming for a trade deal. Once the communication was established, Amalia would hack into the mansion’s system through the link. She would then create a back channel through which she could continue to take control of their defenses and provide access for Mercy to plant however many viruses she pleased.

  Less than a minute after their shuttle had stopped, Lhor sent us all confirmation that Amalia had broken into Suman’s systems. While the Axian government’s permission wasn’t necessary for this raid, and despite their expected anger at us pulling this stunt on them again, Aleina proceeded to uncloak the Tempest and warn the Axians not to interfere with this rescue mission. Although Amalia was shutting down all of the mansion’s ability to send and receive messages, if Suman or his men managed to send out a distress signal, we didn’t want to risk having the might of the Axian defenses descending upon us.

  Moments later, the energy field defending the mansion was lowered, and Khel’s shuttle resumed its approach. Being closer than him, our ten cloaked shuttles entered the perimeter of the mansion. As soon as we landed, Mercy launched one of her viruses. In the seconds it took us to quietly disembark from our vessels, hidden from view by our stealth shields, the house went into complete lock down. The alarm sounded for half a beat before choking into silence.

  A wave of panic swept through the dozen guards currently outside. They shouted for the turrets to take down the incoming shuttle, not having realized the real threat stood less than a hundred meters from them. Coming out of stealth, we opened fire even as we rushed them.

  There would be no prisoners.

  Trapped inside their walls with the reinforced shutters of the doors and the windows used against them, and with their outer defenses rendered useless by the girls, no one would escape our wrath.

  Attacking on four fronts, we rushed the entrances of the mansion in groups of more or less twenty people. Khel and Ravik, led the charge on the left side, with Mercy, Amalia, and Lhor hanging at the back. Krygor—Anton’s father—and Xevius accompanied me to the front entrance. My group contained the largest number of Korletheans and Braxians; the latter claiming that battling alongside Ravik and Mercy was pointless—they killed everything too fast. Thaddeus and Sohr took the right side, while Febus and Elder Braxian Pattel charged the rear.

  “Shields up,” I said to my team as we took position on each side of the main door, then opened my com. “Amalia, release the front door.”

  The reinforced metal panel lifted, exposing the house’s main entrance. As soon as it began to rise, blaster shots shattered the glass of the doors, the shards bouncing harmlessly off of our shields. Seconds later, the security lock beeped as it deactivated, and the doors slid open with the clinking sound of broken glass falling. With my back pressed against the wall, from my weapons belt I picked up a small light disk no bigger than a coin, activated it, and then flicked it inside the house. Connected to my suit, its camera sent me a view of the house on the visual display of my visor. I guided the disk via the neural interface of my suit, making it flash a blinding light and emit a shrill disorienting sound at the guards it encountered. Thankfully, judging by the camera feed, the slaves and servants had all taken refuge on the upper floors.

  As soon as I gave the signal to go in, Krygor almost knocked me out of the way as he rushed inside. Shield held before him, the massive Braxian deflected the clumsy shots from the half-stunned guards. He emitted a feral growl, which steadily rose in volume. With it, so did my pulse and the tingling sensation spreading over my skin. I felt stronger, faster, and more focused as my blood roared in my ears with the savage blood thirst that took hold of me. In a blink of lucidity, I realized Krygor had entered a Berserker state. With this rare Braxian trait, passed down the oldest warrior bloodlines, the Berserker became a formidable killing machine on the field. As an added bonus, all those he considered of his clan or as allies would have their own abilities enhanced as long as they remained within range of him, turning them into Furies.

  I didn’t fight it.

  Krygor didn’t bother with a sword or blaster. Towering over all of us, the 7’5” giant grabbed his first victim by the head—his hand bigger than the merc’s face—and squeezed, crushing his skull like one would crumple paper. Then, in an effortless flick of his wrist, Krygor sent the corpse flying across the room, knocking down some of the guards manning the hallway. He backhanded the blaster a second merc was aiming at him, shattering the foolish man’s wrist. Krygor then picked him up by the chin and smashed his head against the doorframe of a connecting room. It exploded like an overripe melon. Dropping him on to the fancy tiles covering the floor, the Braxian moved on to another target.

  Unable to sate my battle rage, I gnashed my teeth in frustration. The Braxians were mowing down the guards at an alarmingly quick rate. And by the time I got in range of the mercs in the back, half of them were screaming or writhing on the floor, blood pouring out of their eyes, ears, and noses from the psionic strikes of the Korletheans. It wasn’t a battle; it was a massacre.

  Pushing past them, Xevius and my Sisters hot on my trail, I made a beeline for the lift on the back wall of a posh living area in the center of the mansion. The Xelixians accompanying us helped my Sisters check the rooms we passed along the way for potential enemies or slaves. But as indicated by my scanner, the ground
floor was empty but for the handful of guards still alive—for now. We met Febus’s and Thaddeus’s units at the lift. I sent them to scour the second floor and then tackle the third floor to assess if the people huddling there were indeed all slaves or undesirables trying to avoid their comeuppance. Khel arrived with Amalia just in time for her to override the elevator’s security and give us access to the massive underground compound where Suman had no doubt taken refuge among his prized possessions.

  The lift was too small to accommodate all of us. But we also couldn’t risk going in without knowing what kind of welcoming party awaited us. From the Korletheans’ surveillance reports, the underground facility had three exits: the lift, the shuttle bay, and the garage entrance. On top of Amalia taking control of the latter two, we had two chasers guarding those exits. While Suman could order his men to disable the lift, it remained his best chance of defeating us as the only choke point narrow enough to possibly have us pinned down.

  My Sisters and I loaded the elevator’s cabin with dozens of stun disks and sent it down. Thanks to Mercy’s virus scrambling all of their security cameras, the mercs had no idea what was happening topside. As expected, they bombarded the cabin with blaster shots as soon as its doors parted. The disks—which had been floating as close to the ceiling as possible to avoid getting shot—swarmed the underground facility, stunning our enemies along the way.

  I chomped at the bit while waiting for the lift to return for us. It was too small to take all of us in a single trip. The Braxians alone would require two trips. Despite their obvious displeasure, they had to wait until after my Sisters and I had gone down since we were the ones with eyes on what was happening below thanks to the stun disks’ cameras. Granted, we could have shared the feed to the display of their military armbands, but we wanted our pound of flesh from the mercs. Those sons of Gharah were the reason we’d been enslaved. They’d bought and abused our mothers, sisters, and daughters. They enjoyed our tears. We would enjoy their screams.