by Regine Abel
“And that’s why I wanted you to come here rather than us going to your ship,” Mercy said. “I was never captured, but I don’t know what any of the Sisters would do once they got on board a ship filled with Tuureans. And that’s why I never even considered going to Tuur.”
It was my time to snort.
“In a Guldan ship?” I asked. “We would have shot first, asked questions later.”
Mercy laughed. “Yeah, we would have switched ships first.”
“We can help identify who is conditioned and who isn’t,” I said. “The less conditioned ones we’ll be able to treat directly on the Tempest. The others might need help from more powerful mind healers, in Haven or from Valena on Xelix Prime.”
Whatever doubt I held about their sincerity faded at the genuine sigh of relief they both gave out.
“You were really worried,” I said, surprised.
“I have waited twenty-five years to meet my daughter. The last thing I need is to be the one that tears her life apart again.”
I cringed. “Ow, yeah. I see what you mean. So how many Sisters total have you rescued?” I asked Mercy.
“We’ve rescued 6,422 Veredians and over three hundred Korletheans. As you can see, only one stuck around.”
“Six thousand…!” My voice trailed off, too shocked to finish.
Mercy shrugged, a smug expression on her face. “I’ve been busy!”
Omira and the Sisters laughed. I just shook my head while Ghan stared at my sister, looking impressed.
“Any clue how to find the other fortresses?” Ghan asked.
Her smile broadened. “As a matter of fact…”
She pulled out an object from her pocket and held her palm open in front of us.
“Does this look familiar?” she asked.
“That looks like Gruuk’s medallion,” Ghan said.
“Spot on, Xelixian,” she said. “More precisely, the other half. Amalia and I need to combine our medallions, and they will give us the location of every single fortress my father ever owned.”
CHAPTER 16
Amalia
My heart hammered against my ribs and my lungs seemed a tenth their normal size, keeping me from breathing normally. Khel and Lhor stood on each side of me, and I clung to them.
Eleven days. Eleven agonizing days I’d waited for the Tempest to finally return from Xamora They had to rendezvous with the fleet first to transfer some of the rescued females. As soon as they had returned onboard the Tuurean ship, Aunt Aleina had sent a message that my father was free and on his way to me. We’d had multiple vidcoms since, but the great distance made it impossible for synchronous talk until the last couple of days. My mates then had to almost forcibly pull me away from the com.
My Papa looked so handsome. Even more than on the carving Mama had made of him aboard the Revenant a few months before her death. I had known he would be free someday, but I’d never truly believed we would finally get to meet.
Goddess, there he is!
As the Tuurean shuttle landed, my mates once more held on to me to stop me from running ahead and getting squashed in the process. Nana Maheva and Minh stood near us. She, too, wanted to meet the male who had given her firstborn daughter the few moments of true happiness in her life. The children were safely tucked away inside the house with Jhola. I didn’t want them to see me fall apart the way I definitely would. The memory of the mess I had been when Nana Maheva had been brought to the estate for the first time still burned bright in my memory. With Vahl’s overprotective ways, he might perceive my emotions as distress and consider my father the source of the threat.
The shuttle ramp lowered at long last. I held my breath, squeezing my mates’ hands so hard my own fingers hurt. Kamala appeared first in civilian clothes, followed by Ghan. Pushing up on my tippy toes and stretching my neck, I tried to look behind my brother’s massive frame.
And then, there he was.
Bronze skin, long curly black hair, and eyes the color of a foggy morning, my father glided out of the shuttle and down the ramp. Tall and lithe, he wore a traditional Korlethean robe in a dusty blue that complimented his eyes, with intricate white embroidered patterns at the hem, on his sleeves, and around his collar.
He looked like royalty, his steps graceful, and his feet barely touching the ground as he walked toward me. The intensity of his gaze boring into mine turned my mind numb. His long, elegant fingers clutched at his heart at the same moment I felt mine clenching. The Blood Bond tugged a hundred times stronger than it had with my half-sisters, Camelia and Larissa.
I wanted to call out to him, run to him, but I stood trembling, rooted in place by emotion. Only my hand found its way to my own heart as our father-daughter link settled. I realized then that Khel and Lhor had let go of my hands and taken a few steps back.
My father stopped in front of me, his eyes studying every one of my features. Lips trembling, I couldn’t form words while tears of joy trickled down my cheeks. He beheld me with such love it warmed me all the way to my soul. His hands cupped my face with both thumbs caressing my cheeks.
“My baby, my Sevina’s child, my trueborn daughter,” he whispered.
I smiled through my tears and found my voice again. “Papa…”
And then he was crushing me in his embrace while I clung to him, bawling with ugly cries, my face buried in his neck. He spoke gentle words in Korlethean that I didn’t understand but didn’t care. I held my Papa in my arms.
When we finally parted, and through bouts of sniffles, I gestured for my half-sisters, Larissa and Camelia to come forward. They hesitated, intimidated and worried he might reject them. By all accounts, most Korletheans had expressed little interest in forming bonds or relationships with their Veredian daughters both during their enslavement and after they’d been freed. As his trueborn daughter—the child born from a union with his soulmate—he naturally wanted to meet me. But they were the fruit of the forced matings he had been coerced into. As a true mated male, sexual encounters with females other than my mother had actually been a physical torture for him, the soulmate bond punishing him for ‘cheating’.
To my relief, after his initial surprise at seeing them, he rubbed his chest, feeling the paternal bond and embraced each of them in turn. Their joy at his acceptance moved me and made my heart melt further for my father. He hadn’t displayed the same intensity with them as he had with me, but his affection and the welcoming of their bond felt genuine.
Through bouts of shy giggles, I introduced my father to my mates. Having two mates was common practice for Korletheans, so that didn’t shock him. However, he did give both Khel and Lhor a severely evaluating gaze that had them both squirming. Had I not been such an emotional wreck, I’d have laughed my ass off at them and probably rubbed it in further.
Him meeting my Nana also moved me to the core. Just like with Lhor and Khel, Nana Maheva embraced my father as a son, and he as a mother.
“Thank you, my son, for all the joy and happiness you gave my Sevina,” Maheva said. “She had so few such moments, but every time she returned from your time together, she would have stars in her eyes. She loved you with every fiber of her being.”
“And I loved her like I will never love anyone again,” my father said with his melodic, breathy voice. “Her memory and the hope of being reunited with our daughter has kept me alive.”
His face took on a serious expression that had me confused.
“There is someone special here to meet you. She has waited her whole life for this moment. It will be a bit of a shock for you, but I hope it will be a happy one.”
My Nana gave him a look as baffled as I felt. We all turned toward the shuttle. Aunt Aleina stood at the top of the ramp in the doorway and extended a hand to someone we couldn’t see. The person must have hesitated because Aleina mouthed “it’s ok” or something along those lines before a feminine hand grabbed hers. Pulling the mysterious female after her, she walked down the ramp toward my Nana.
My brai
n ceased to function when I saw the older face, so similar to my own, with the eyes, horns, and hair of the male I had once loved as a father figure, then hated as a cruel master.
“No fucking way…” I breathed out.
“Gharah’s teeth!” Lhor whispered behind me.
My Nana’s knees nearly buckled beneath her. Both Minh and my father supported her while she looked at the newcomer. Her features strained with shock and horror, she shook her head in denial.
“He said you died. He said you died!”
Through my shock, I realized I’d never really questioned the nature of the relationship between my Nana and our master, always assuming she’d hated him as much as my mother always had. But now….
“He lied,” Aunt Aleina said softly on behalf of the female who stood silent and tense, a wary look on her face.
They both stopped at arm’s length from my Nana. The female’s knuckles had gone white from holding Aunt Aleina’s hand so hard. I didn’t feel a tug as strong as I had felt with my half-sisters, let alone with my dad, but it was there. That female was family.
“Why would he do that?” Maheva asked, her voice shaking.
Without waiting for an answer, she pulled out of Minh and my father’s supporting hold and stepped hesitantly toward the female who stiffened further.
“So that he wouldn’t be forced to mate you with other Guldans to make more like her,” Aleina said in the same gentle voice.
Nana sobbed then nodded in understanding before taking another step forward.
“Mother, this is Mercy. Mercy, meet our mother.”
Aleina rubbed Mercy’s back encouragingly then released her hand and stepped away toward her mate. Ghan wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. My own father came back to me and also held me against his side.
Nana raised her palm toward Mercy’s cheek, who towered over her by almost a full head. Mercy drew in a shuddering breath. Hands clenching and unclenching nervously, she tried to remain stoic under her mother’s exploration. Maheva’s fingers traced her daughter’s features, up her forehead, and along her ebony horns with patterns identical to Gruuk’s. Lips quivering, Mercy blinked rapidly, no doubt fighting back the tears stinging her eyes.
My own throat hurt from being too constricted.
Maheva’s fingers combed down through Mercy’s straight, black hair, stopping at her shoulders then traced the Warrior markings down her arm.
“My baby,” Maheva whispered. “My perfect baby girl.”
Mercy drew in another shuddering breath and this time lost her battle against the tears that poured freely down her face.
“My baby,” Maheva repeated more forcefully, throwing herself into my aunt’s arms.
“Mama,” Mercy said, crushing my Nana against her.
The dam broke for me, too. Resting my head on my father’s shoulder, I let my own tears flow while he caressed my hair like Mama used to. From the corner of my eye, I didn’t miss Aleina discreetly wiping her own wet cheeks.
* * *
“I would ask that you do not interfere, no matter how your children react when they see me,” my father asked. “I need you to trust me that I won’t harm them, and they won’t harm me.”
My mates and I exchanged nervous looks as we approached the house’s front porch. Over my many conversations with my father, he had warned me that the children, especially Vahl, might prove aggressive toward a Korlethean. I thanked the Goddess once more that we finally had someone who we could trust to help us handle our children’s insane powers.
Although the Sisters had scanned everyone from Mercy’s ship, my father had insisted on having Valena examine him, too, to make sure he wasn’t brainwashed. She had met with them before they came here.
“We won’t interfere,” Khel said, his forehead marred with worry.
Vahl had been doing so well over the past few weeks. Had it only been the calm before the storm?
The loud voices of our children playing died within seconds of our stepping inside the house. Lhor and I exchanged a confused look. Turning to Khel, his frown had deepened as he stared up the staircase. Our children never stopped their ruckus so abruptly.
“I can feel their power all the way down here. Goddess, help us,” my father said.
My stomach churned with worry as we walked into the house, Mercy, Aleina, Nana, and their mates tagging along. As we climbed the stairs, a low sound I couldn’t identify at first rose in volume with each step.
A growl. Vahl is growling! Oh Goddess!
I slipped my hand into Lhor’s and Khel rubbed my back to appease me.
As soon as we cleared the landing to the second floor, we saw Vahl standing in front of a board game spread over the carpet of the family room. Zhara and Rhad sat on their haunches on each side of him. Claws and fangs out, Vahl hissed viciously at my father before resuming his growling.
My other two children had a tense look on their faces, looking in turn at their brother then their great-father, appearing unsure how to act. I bit my bottom lip, shivers of dread running down my spine at all that could possibly go wrong.
“Stand down, boy,” my father said in a severe tone.
Vahl hissed and did a sharp movement with his head. My father hissed in response, but his expressed pain. My stomach twisted realizing my son had used his secondary power to hurt my father. Remembering how he had killed the butterfly, panic wanted to settle in. I hadn’t just found my father to have my own son kill him in an irrational rage.
Pressing a hand over my mouth, I held in the whimper that wanted to come out.
My father lifted a hand to his nose then looked at the drop of blood left on it.
“Do that again, and I’ll return the favor,” my father threatened.
Vahleryon hissed, and my father took another step forward. My son then repeated the same head jerk, but it didn’t appear to affect my father this time. Seconds later, my son cried out. Falling to his knees, he cradled his head in his hands.
Zhara and Rhad rushed to support their brother then both turned to hiss at my father. Rhad also bared his baby fangs at him.
“Stand down, little ones. This is between him and me.”
“You hurt Vahl!” Zhara shouted in an accusatory tone.
“I only did what he did. He stops, I stop.”
Vahl looked up at my father with a murderous look that sent shivers down my spine.
“You can see my light, Zhara,” my father said, though his eyes remained on Vahl. “Am I your enemy?”
Zhara appeared troubled, all aggression bleeding out of her.
“I asked you a question, Zharina Kirnhan. Am I your enemy?”
Zhara scrunched her face then reluctantly shook her head.
“Who am I?” he asked her, still watching Vahl.
“Grappa,” she whispered.
“Louder,” he insisted.
“Grappa,” she repeated, casting a guilty look at her brother.
“Good girl,” my father said. “Rhadames, what am I?”
“Grappa,” my youngest said, also casting a guilty look at his Gem.
“Good boy,” he said, taking another step toward Vahl, who bared his fangs again, but quietly this time. “Tell me, Vahleryon, are you a Warrior like your sire, or an animal?”
Vahl flinched as I cringed at the question far too brutal for my barely three-year-old son.
“Warrior,” he spat out.
“Good, then why are you acting like an animal?”
Vahl bared his teeth at him again and started growling before abruptly stopping, realizing what he was doing. He looked troubled, angry, and somewhat lost.
My mother’s heart wanted to go to him and say everything was all right.
“Read me, little Warrior. Do I want to hurt your Gem?” my father asked.
Various emotions played on my boy’s face before he shook his head.
“Your twin?”
Vahl looked at my father with resentment then shook his head. My father approach
ed him by another couple of steps.
“And what of your parents? Do I want to hurt them?”
Vahl’s gaze crossed mine, then Lhor’s, and finally his sire’s. Shame twisted his features, realizing at last he had broken his promise to Khel not to hurt people. Lowering his head, he shook it in response to my father.
“Do you think I want to steal your territory?” my father asked, stopping right in front of my son.
Vahl didn’t raise his head but simply shook it in denial. My father crouched before him, and my son looked up at him.
“The aggression you feel is instinct telling you another alpha with the strength to resist your power has entered your domain. An animal will mindlessly attack without worrying about the newcomer’s intentions. A Warrior will absorb that information, keep it in mind, then make a decision with his head.”
I watched my son drinking in my father’s words, appearing almost hypnotized although tension still filled his little body. They were mighty big words for such a young boy, despite his advanced mental development. Still, I kept silent and hung onto my mates.
“Who am I?”
Vahl struggled to answer but didn’t seem to be able to force the words out.
“Who am I, Vahleryon?”
“Gr… Grap… Grappa.”
Tears leaked down my son’s cheeks. I couldn’t say if anger, pain, shame, or all of the above had prompted them, but they tore me up.
My father carefully placed his hands on my son’s shoulders. For a moment, I feared Vahleryon would break free and attack him. Then suddenly, all tension left him, and he stared at my father, wide-eyed. Rhadames gasped, his head jerking between his Gem and his Grappa. Whatever my father had done, Rhad had felt it, too, through his Geminate bond with Vahl.
“Feels better, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” Vahl said, looking amazed.
“I will teach you how to reach inner peace, and your Gem can help you achieve it, too.”
“Yes, please,” Vahl said, nodding with enthusiasm.
“You will be the greatest general this world will ever behold, even greater than your father. Under your leadership, enemies will become friends, wars will end, peace and harmony will reign throughout the known galaxy. But only if you choose to be the Warrior. If you let the animal control you, then you will destroy all life in this universe. Which one do you want to be?”