by Regine Abel
There was something strange in the look she gave me. Grace gathered the holocards and placed them on the nightstand. She patted the mattress beside her for me to sit. I complied.
“I guess you’re finally ready to tell me what’s been troubling you all day?” she said softly.
“Was it that obvious?”
She gave me a sad smile. “I’m starting to know you, Anton. I’m also guessing that it will upset me. Let’s just get it out of the way.”
I shifted, cracking my neck to release a painful knot. “The Magnar is coming for a visit tonight. It is a great honor for my clan and me.”
She exhaled and clasped her hands on her lap. While her face remained neutral, her knuckles whitened.
“Is he coming alone?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“How nice do I have to be to him?”
I felt a sour taste in my mouth as I struggled to find the words. This whole situation infuriated me, but worse, it shamed me. What the hell kind of a man couldn’t protect his woman?
“You’re my consort, Grace. He’s not supposed to do more than cop a feel.”
She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it. I could guess her thoughts; ‘not supposed to’ didn’t mean ‘would not.’
Grace may never forgive me if things got rough. I would protect her of course, but the Magnar wasn’t Gerwin – he would squash me like an insect.
“When does he arrive?” she asked, looking away.
It wasn’t in defeat. The stiffness of her back and the hard line of her jaw spoke of repressed anger. She didn’t want me to see how she felt, on her face, in her eyes.
“He will be here in an hour or so.”
She nodded. “I should go get ready then.” She rose gracefully and walked to the bathroom.
“I’m sorry, Grace.”
She paused in the doorway. “I know,” she said without turning to look at me, then closed the door behind her.
* * *
William commed me to let me know the Magnar had arrived. I went to get Grace as she needed to be by my side when I greeted him. To my utter shock, she walked out of the room wearing a diaphanous, thigh-length white dress. It was sheer enough to tease about her delicious curves but opaque enough to hide any indecent details. Barefoot, no underwear, her long reddish brown hair cascaded down her back. She looked good enough to eat. It was also a perfect traditional Braxian concubine outfit.
Where the fuck did she get that?
Despite my curiosity, I escorted her to the lift in silence. The Magnar would arrive any minute and we couldn’t dally.
Right on cue, the lift chimed as we took position in front of it, Grace standing two steps behind me. My stomach lurched at the sight of the behemoth revealed by the doors opening. Magnar Ravik was almost eight feet tall, his head only inches from the lift’s ceiling. He easily weighed over four hundred pounds. The stretchy dark fabric of his clothes seemed about to tear with each movement of his rippling muscles. Like me, raven black hair fell to his shoulders. As the purest bloodline on Braxia, the Magnar’s features were as brutish as they came. His strong brow line and broad forehead gave his hard face a permanent, terrifying scowl.
However, his eyes held my attention. They shone with keen intelligence and wisdom, in sharp contrast with his fearsome appearance.
The Magnar stepped into the room. He gestured for his two guards to stay in the lift with William who took them back down.
“Magnar Ravik,” I said with a deferential bow, “your presence honors me. Welcome to my home.”
“Anton Myers of Clan Aldriss, we meet at last.” His voice rumbled like a waking volcano. “I accept your hospitality and thank you.”
His obsidian eyes drifted to Grace. Heart pounding, I schooled my features and introduced her.
“This is my consort, Grace,” I said, gesturing towards her. “My concubine and my house are yours.”
The words scorched my lips and twisted my innards. To both the Magnar’s and my surprise, Grace approached the Magnar then kneeled at his feet. Sitting back on her haunches, she rested her palms on her knees and bowed her head.
“Welcome, Magnar Ravik. Health, wealth, and strength to your clan,” Grace said. Her voice sounded steady, respectful, and beautifully raspy.
I didn’t know when she learned the Braxian greeting protocols observed by concubines, but it honored me, my clan, and the Magnar. My chest hurt realizing that despite me hurting her repeatedly over my culture and clan honor, she still embraced them to please me.
I don’t deserve her.
A strange look settled on the Magnar’s face. He stared at her bowed head for a moment before facing me. In the traditional gesture of acceptance, he placed his hand on her head.
Magnar Ravik said, “Thank you, little Grace. You may rise.”
Grace stood, head bowed, her hands clasped in front of her. The Magnar held her by the shoulders, giving her an appreciative once over. “I heard of your consort’s beauty, Anton. It by far exceeds even the most outrageous tale.” He gently lifted her chin with a finger and she submitted to his examination. “Submissive and respectful too. She brings great honor to your house.”
His words should have filled me with pride and joy. Deep down, the part of me that longed for the acceptance of my people reveled in receiving such high praise from the Magnar himself. However, it drowned in the sickening feeling in my stomach as he placed a possessive hand on the back of her neck.
I swallowed hard and gestured for him – them – to follow me into the living area. The tension in Grace’s shoulders belied the impassive expression on her face. I spent nearly two decades building my empire so I wouldn’t be at another’s mercy again. Yet, here I stood, feeling more helpless than ever before.
Ravik sat on the loveseat, his massive frame filling two-thirds of it. He pulled Grace onto his lap. He made her sit sideways, pulling her bare feet onto the cushion. Sitting across from them in the plush chair, I forced my eyes not to stare at his big hand resting on her knee – under her flimsy dress – or the slow movement of his thumb on her naked flesh.
“Food? Drinks?” I offered, my voice barely hiding my tension.
A discreet smirk stretched the corner of the Magnar’s lips, indicating he wasn’t fooled by my attempt at detachment. “No, thank you. I won’t be staying long.”
Thank fuck for that.
“The Caldes banishment stirred quite a commotion. It is all the talk on Braxia.”
“As such things are wont to be,” I said.
Is he here to challenge the banishment on their behalf?
“I understand he insulted you and physically attacked you after accepting your hospitality?”
Through my peripheral vision, I saw Ravik’s hand moved up and down Grace’s thigh.
I forced my eyes to remain on his face. “Correct. Elder Pattel and two others witnessed his attack. Gerwin brought it upon himself.”
“No need to be defensive, young Anton. The idiot had it coming. Leader Caldes should be thanking you for ridding him of that poor excuse of a firstborn. Gerwin couldn’t have managed the clan after his sire. Good riddance.”
I inhaled sharply. Such blunt honesty with a mutt threw me.
“Forgive me, Magnar. It is a sensitive topic for me.”
“I can see why it would be,” he said, his tone conciliatory. “You have done incredibly well for yourself, Anton Myers. Impressive, especially for a half-breed.”
Grace stiffened at his comment. That drew his attention. He narrowed his eyes at her.
“Does it bother you that I call your consort a half-breed?” Ravik asked Grace.
I felt my blood draining, fearing he might take offense to her response. Grace chewed on her bottom lip, clearly hesitating. To my surprise, the Magnar gently caressed her cheek.
“Do not be afraid, little one. Speak freely. On my honor, no harm will ever come to you from me.”
Grace licked her lips, then said, “Yes, it does. I don’t u
nderstand why people make such a big deal of his genetics. It shouldn’t matter. Only his accomplishments should.”
Ravik smiled. “You like him, don’t you?”
I held my breath as she nodded shyly at him.
“Yes, Magnar. I like him a lot.”
He took her hand and raised it to his face. Leaning his cheek into her palm, he closed his eyes.
“Say my name,” he whispered.
“Mag—”
“No. Just my name,” he said, interrupting her.
“Ravik,” Grace said softly.
His brow creased, and he pressed her hand against his cheek with an almost pained sigh. I wasn’t sure what I was witnessing, and why the Magnar would allow me to see this. Grace stared at him, stunned at first. Then her lips parted as if sudden understanding dawned on her. She raised her other hand to his cheek, cupping his face. He opened his eyes, their gazes locked in a silent communication. It made me uneasy. Yet, my gut told me this needed to play out.
Grace combed her fingers through his long hair. He closed eyes again and exhaled a shuddering breath when she whispered his name in his ear. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her in a tight embrace. She kissed his cheek. My fingers dug into the chair until I felt the material begin to tear. The look he gave her was tender. Magnar Ravik handled her with more care than I could have hoped for. But her reaction baffled me. Scared me. Releasing his embrace, he brushed her hair aside then gently kissed her lips.
“Thank you for your warm hospitality, little Grace. Both the Magnar and the man will not forget. You may go. Your consort and I have much to discuss and little time to do so.”
Grace got off his lap and kneeled before him. The weight crushing my shoulders and constricting my lungs lifted. After Ravik caressed the top of her head, she rose to her feet and glanced at me. I smiled and we both watched her leave.
The Magnar’s tender expression evaporated the minute Grace faded from view.
“For such a smart man, you’re quite an idiot.” His voice was icy.
“Magnar—”
“Don’t Magnar me,” he snapped. “Why the fuck would you let me or any other man touch your woman?”
That threw me. “It is tradition. You are the Magnar. Doing otherwise would have been—”
“The right thing to do,” he said, interrupting me. “It isn’t tradition, it’s Braxian garbage. I guess you’re as big a fool as the rest of them.”
I sagged in my chair, dumbstruck. His words dripped with treason. Was that why he left his guards with William? Was he baiting me to speak up against Braxia only to have me jailed? I opened my mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
“What if I decided to fuck her?”
My teeth clenched. “You’re a fully mature Braxian. You’d never fit without killing her.”
“Your father sired you, and your mother lived to tell the tale.” His eyes were hard, unflinching. “Nothing a bit of patience and plenty of Denax wouldn’t take care of.”
My blood ran cold. Ravik wasn’t that much bigger than my father. Denax was an extremely effective lubricant and dilator. I used it on Grace the night I almost took her ass. I had only intended to give her enough to prevent tearing or significant harm. With proper time and preparation, she could have enjoyed it.
Ravik smiled at my expression. Magnar or not, I wouldn’t let him fuck Grace. Though from his earlier comment, it didn’t sound like he planned to.
“Let me tell you a tale, young Anton,” Ravik said, leaning back in his seat. The couch creaked under his massive weight.
I nodded, grateful for the conversation to steer away from fucking Grace.
“Thirty-three years ago, for my twelfth birthday, my father gave me a human slave. She was a beautiful wisp of a girl, a fourteen-year-old named Lissy. I became sexually active a few months prior and father considered it a rite of passage to deflower a human female.”
It was more than a rite of passage. Virgins were hard to come by. Beautiful human virgins even harder. Wealthy clans paid high prices to get willing young females for their sons to bed. It became a sign of status. Between the ages of eleven and fourteen, a Braxian male’s girth was still small enough for a human woman to handle with reasonable ease. By fifteen, coupling with a human usually resulted in serious tearing without Denax. However, frequent and excessive use of the dilator endangered the woman’s health.
“Within a year, I committed the unforgivable. Not content to fall in love with a slave, I also impregnated her with a male.” He snorted at my stunned expression. “But that wasn’t the worst part. I allowed my son to live and kept him a secret for fifteen months. Can you guess what happened next?”
“Your father discovered his existence.”
“Yes.”
I couldn’t imagine what that must have been like. Magnar Sigmer had been a zealot and a bigot. For his own son to taint their bloodline, with a slave no less…
“A human snitched on us. The Narinda colony’s ambassador came to discuss possible trade agreements.” His lips stretched in a sneer. His hatred for the human still burned bright. “He knew Braxian protocols. When Lissy refused him, he complained to my father who had guards escort him to her quarters. If she refused him again, they would hold her down for him and then punish her. Apparently, she was breastfeeding our son when they barged in.”
I shifted in my seat, imagining the young girl watching in horror as the guards dragged her child away. By then, she would have been sixteen or seventeen.
“When I returned early from the training camp, I naively thought my father summoned me as a reward for the distinctions I earned during combat training.” Ravik emitted a sad chuckle. “The guards said he awaited me in the courtyard. When I saw over a dozen juveniles from elder clans gathered there, I thought they came to celebrate me.”
I knew where this tale headed. Yet, I listened with morbid fascination.
“When they saw me, their smirks told me something was wrong. That’s when I saw my Lissy, naked and shackled on an altar. Near her, my son wailed in a cage like an animal. My father made me watch as the juveniles took turns – fifteen in total, one for each month I’d kept my son’s life a secret. He chose them because their age made them the perfect size to fuck a human without killing her in minutes.”
I couldn’t begin to imagine the horror he must have felt. And his son… He had been old enough to understand they were hurting his mother while his father didn’t help her.
“By the fifth one, Lissy stopped calling out for me. When the last was done, my father held the cage up for me. Then she understood. She begged and pleaded. I broke our son’s neck and placed his dead body on her chest. And so they remained until the next morning. She took her own life the following day. From the doctor’s account, she would have died anyway from internal injuries.”
As horrible as that was, Ravik showed mercy to Lissy and their son. The altar usually had a wall behind it. The sire was expected to bash the child’s head on it so the blood and gore rained down on the mother’s face. Then he would place the corpse on her chest.
“I could have saved her. I could have saved them both by simply renouncing my clan. Instead, I spent the next thirty-two years with their blood on my conscience. Six of those juveniles now sit on my council. Every day, I eat and drink with them, work with them, socialize with them. And all I see, are those bastards rutting over my woman while she begs me to save her. There’s a special kind of hell for men like me.”
I would have killed them.
“You were just a boy, Magnar.”
“I was old enough to put a child in a woman’s womb,” he said, curling his lips. “I should have protected them. At that age, despite all the odds stacked against half-breeds, you not only lived but also became your clan’s main provider. What does that say?”
“That we had different priorities. Your father groomed you to rule Braxia after him, according to his beliefs. I strived to make myself invaluable to my clan for the right to live.”
> Ravik smiled and crossed his leg. “Your Grace loves you.”
My heart thumped. “I believe she has affection for me.”
“Foolish boy. She loves you. I know that look.” His face took on a faraway expression. After a moment, his eyes refocused on me and took on a determined look. “I want you to renounce your clan.”
My breath hitched. “Excuse me?”
“Renounce your clan, mate your woman and have children.”
He had no right to make such a demand. One could renounce of their free will or be banished for a grievous offense, but not coerced into renouncing.
“Is that an order, Magnar?”
Ravik snorted. “To save you, your father showed the courage I lacked. Krygor Aldriss faced a lot of challenges and criticism for sparing you. Do you think he did all this so that you can spend a lifetime of Braxia bullying you?”
There was something more to this. “Why do you care?”
“Had my son lived, he could have been you. I’ll never know. What I do know is that Braxia is a cesspool of ignorance, bigotry, and stupidity. Our people must change and adapt to the times or face oblivion. Do you really think my father’s death happened by accident?”
Why the fuck was he revealing all this to me? Several rumors whispered of foul play but why confess to me of all people?
“Magnar Sigmer wasn’t always popular,” I said, cautiously. “We all expected someone to challenge him sooner rather than later.”
“He was a fanatic and should have been put down long ago,” Ravik bit back. “Bottom line, Braxia must change. I can only lay the groundwork and raise my sons to continue after me.”
I nodded. “You have set a number of progressive ideas in motion that will help Braxia.”
“But it’s not enough. Half of my time is devoted to pacifying foreign governments because yet another clan took excessive revenge over a slight. That can’t go on.”
I’d always wondered about that. Darla and Steffie had been nobodies, with no powerful protectors or family to seek justice on their behalf.