by V. K. Ludwig
“What happened to the last urizaya?”
Mayala’s gray lips pressed into a thin line as she led me over to the hover crates. “It is not for me to say. Our urizayo, Katedo, will tell you eventually, I am certain. You have not brought many personal belongings.”
“I studied your planet and know that it only allows for a nomadic lifestyle,” I said with a shrug. “Figured there’s no point in dragging a bunch of stuff across it.”
Mayala gave an approving nod as she opened the first crate, skillfully sorting through dresses, pants, and shirts. “Is everything you wear black?”
“It’s a tradition since I was assigned to the warrior stratum back on Earth.” Not that I truly deserved to wear it… “I doubt all this black fabric will be useful out there in the heat.”
Her sigh confirmed my doubts. “We dress differently in the plains than we do at Noja. After the ceremony, we can seek out the seamstress and order more appropriate clothing while respecting your desire to cover most of your body.” A grin tugged on her upper lip as her eyes flicked to me. “Our urizayo spent the last moon teaching me much about Earth customs, so I can better serve you. He is well-traveled.”
I helped her unload the crates and formed stacks on the wooden sideboard beside us. “There are currently four warlords, correct?”
“Yes. The wars with the Empire caused much chaos, and young warriors came from the ashes, calling themselves warlords while assembling many small tribes around them. They fought amongst each other.” She nodded as if to herself. “But our urizayo comes from a long line of warlords.”
“And Toagi?”
A hiss escaped her fangs. “Nothing but a thief who killed his older brother to lay claim over a tribe that should have split up without a true warlord to lead them.”
My guts tied into a knot. “He killed his own brother?”
“Slit his throat—”
The pressurized ksh of the door cut through her words, and a female with dozens of thin, black braids stepped into the room, palm pressed to her chest. “He challenged the urizayo to ulish!”
Mayala swung both hands before her mouth, muffling a gasp before mumbles pushed from her slender fingers. “Has he accepted?”
The other female nodded. “Yeki.”
My gaze flicked back and forth between them, not understanding a thing. “What?”
“Oh, urizaya,” Mayala said as she clasped my arm, her breaths shaky. “Toagi challenged Katedo to ulish, a fight to the death to claim himself warlord over our tribe. That shigut no-good of a tasaho!”
Waves of heat rippled across my skin, and the silk of my dress stuck to the thin layer of sweat along my spine. The day I arrived to ensure peace between the Empire and Jal’zar, one warlord had to challenge another to a death fight? If Katedo died, the entire power balance would once more shift, straining the political climate—
All blood sucked from my limbs. “If Toagi wins, what will happen to me?”
The nervous glance Mayala exchanged with the other female instilled no confidence, her voice brittle as she said, “Katedo has seen many battles. He will win this one too.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“He will.”
I glanced at the com cube sitting on the sideboard, vocal cords fraying. “And… if he doesn’t?”
There was no hiding how Mayala’s gulp resonated the room. “Toagi would have the right to claim you as his urizaya since he is unmated.”
My arms slung around me, squeezing a ribcage suddenly too small to contain all this panic expanding there. “Absolutely not. I need to contact the Empire so they can interfere. The arrangement was for me to marry Warlord Katedo. This is a disaster! How do I…” My voice trailed off as I hurried to the com cube, fingers shaky against the sleek material. “Help me turn this on!”
“Urizaya, your future mate is the only one with the code to activate it!”
My heart squeezed behind my rib cage. “By the Three Suns, this is bad. Really bad.”
But panic never solved anything, did it?
Three slow breaths kept the anxiety at bay.
Whatever the quarrels between these two males, I wasn’t just some female to be handed around. Without the ceremony, I was not yet urizaya, and Toagi had no claim over me. And he never would because this wasn’t what I’d signed up for.
I let my eyes lock with Mayala’s. “I need this code so I can plan for all eventualities. Can you bring me to Katedo, so I can retrieve it from him?”
“It is too dangerous. What if Toagi brought an entire warband we are unaware of? You remain here, urizaya, while I get the access code for you.”
“Thank you.”
Both females disappeared behind the metal door, leaving me behind with a shiver ransacking my bones that refused to ease. Brittle silence kept me company as I paced the room, save for the echo of Toagi’s earlier shout: I will claim everything that is mine by right!
Well, I wasn’t his and, apparently, that title he claimed to hold wasn’t his either as long as—
Thud!
I spun around.
My heart stumbled over a beat.
Toagi stood before me, right underneath the air handler, sly grin accompanying how his purple gaze roved me over. “You made this a lot easier than planned now that you sent them away.”
One sidestep bought me distance, legs falling into a fighting stance as if on instinct, no matter how it strained the silk of my dress. “Aren’t you supposed to meet Katedo in a fight to the death to claim the title of warlord?”
“Why ever would I want to kill him?” Toagi prowled toward me, and the way he tilted his head let his horns cast a terrifying shadow over his dark face. “Chaos. Civil unrest. Famine. All things his death might trigger over a goal I can achieve by simply taking you.”
I stepped back and swept around the chaise lounge, bringing the furniture between us while scanning the room for a potential weapon. “You never planned to show up to the fight.”
“No. But Katedo was so eager to get rid of me once and for all, the entire city is assembling at the gates right this moment.” He smacked his tongue, eyes flicking toward the air handler above him. “Time to go, Ceangal da taigh L’naghal. There are many ways to strengthen my rightful claim as a warlord. You are one of them.”
Something glistened at the edge of my vision.
The knife by the fruit bowl!
With one swift move, I grabbed the handle and pointed the sharp tip of the blade at him. “If you’re under the illusion that I’ll just let you swing me over your shoulder, then you clearly didn’t plan this well.”
Each step I took toward the door, he mirrored, arms hanging as loosely by his sides as his tail casually swayed behind him. “Never give a Jal’zar male reason to chase you. It excites us more than you’d like at this moment.”
Blood rushed inside my ears as I inched toward the door, the knife’s tooled handle rough and heavy in my hand. Even though he carried no weapons, I was outgunned with my little fruit peeler. Jal’zar made formidable fighters even when stripped naked, their horns dangerous, their tailclaw nothing short of deadly.
Keeping my eyes locked with his, I tried to will my nano armor around me: genetically modified scales all warriors in training received as standard issue. Impenetrable. Indestructible.
Useless in my case.
Once again, nothing but black patches formed here and there along my arm. Scales lifted from my skin only to fade away, serving as a nauseating reminder of why I never passed my finals.
“Your scales won’t come up. Interesting.”
I linked my eyes with his, anger flaring to life. “Fuck you!”
It didn’t matter. All I needed were another three steps toward the door, so I could call for—
His hand shot forward and grabbed my wrist, finger pressing against my palm. “Drop it!”
I spun around.
My shoulders crashed against his chest.
I kicked my elbow into his ribs.
>
With an oomph, his grip on my wrist loosened enough I freed my hand. When his tail flicked somewhere in my periphery, I ducked and rolled away, dodging it by a mere inch.
The door opened.
I jumped up.
Ding.
Tailclaw hit metal.
Pain vibrated from fingertips to knuckles to wrist, leeching all strength from my muscles. I dropped the knife. It hit the tiles with several clanks, each one sending a shudder across my body. Run. I needed to run!
I braced against the tiles.
I pushed into a sprint.
Something wrapped around my ankle.
His tail?
One tug, and I hit the ground, numbness spreading across my cheek. For a moment, the room spun, pressure expanding behind my temples. It mixed with the rich humming sound from earlier, coercing my mind into a state of subdued fear.
Crrk went Toagi’s tailclaw as it cut a slit into my dress from crotch to hem, while he simultaneously yanked me to my feet. “Hold on to me.”
Gravity shifted around me as he picked me up, working my legs to wrap around his waist. “What are you doing?”
“Stealing you.” It took him little effort to jump back into the air handler, where he braced his strong legs against the metal lining. “You didn’t want to be shouldered, and I prefer having your legs wrapped around me anyway.”
When he slipped down a few inches, my arms swung around his neck all on their own. “So you kidnap me and ransom me out in exchange to become a warlord?”
Hrk!
His tailclaw punctured the metal right beside my head. I yelped. He hummed louder, using his tail and legs to climb up along the metal tube, our surroundings turning hotter and darker with each degree of progress.
“I already am a warlord.” The smirk on his voice was audible, the shift of his muscles against me… distracting. “Once we reach the open exchange valve, you will let my warrior lift you out.”
A trickle of sweat ran down my back. “There will be consequences!”
“That’s the plan.” He swiftly climbed toward the outlet, where the scent of baked earth weaved so effortlessly with the sweet musk of his sweat. “Alde’e, Nafir! Kesi basha kuna! Hold on to him, Ceangal.”
An ungiving set of hands clasped my arms as Toagi shoved me toward the opening. Metal disappeared from around me, quickly replaced by the bloodred moon of Solgad hanging high above mountain ridges that lined the horizon. My nostrils itched at the sudden dryness of the air, and not even the slight breeze gusting over the dark ground offered relief.
A Jal’zar warrior dragged me over the edge of the open valve before he sat me on the ground, but my eyes immediately scanned the area. Wind-worn spires of rock. Rolling foothills. A reddish glimmer illuminating steep walls of stone. Where the fuck was I?
“Female. Silver hair,” Toagi said. “She might return to the chambers with an access code to the satellite, and what a blessing that might be.”
“Ada kesi basha kuna?” the warrior asked.
“Yeki.”
Toagi stepped up beside me, one hand outstretched to help me up, the other holding the reins of his yuleshi: a black-skinned panther with no fur and the size of a small horse, its saddle pad strapped with canteens, knives, and a gun. And there, behind its massive hind leg, shafts of light rose high into the sky. The skyport! But how to get there? If I ran, he’d catch me in no time.
Unless I could slow him down…
I kept my eyes trained on Toagi as I took his hand and rose, not daring a glimpse at the gun sitting inside the saddle holster. My close combat skills against a Jal’zar might have been poor, but my marksmanship was not.
“The camp is far out, and we need to get there before Katedo sends a warband behind me,” he said as he guided me toward his yuleshi, and settled his hands on my waist. “Hold on to Canja’s mane, and try to let your hips roll with her sprint.”
He lifted me up.
I pulled the gun from its holster.
The moment I reached the yuleshi’s back, I let myself slip off the other side and fucking ran!
My soles braced against the sandy ground and pushed me into a sprint toward the light. Behind me, barks and bellows resonated the night while I fumbled with the gun. My pulse roared as I waited for the charge indicator to light up.
“Ceangal!”
A peek over my shoulder.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Toagi sprinted behind me, the muscles on his powerful thighs glistening underneath the light of the red moon. The other warrior planted both hands on his hips as a belly-deep laugh shook his torso.
The gun lit up blue.
I deactivated safety.
I placed my finger on the trigger.
Butting the backstrap against my sternum, I skidded to a stop and turned—
Toagi slammed into me full force. Fabric ripped as my stomach glided over the sandy ground. His weight collapsed onto my back. The gun slipped across the ground, sending a whiff of suffocating ash into my nostrils. Skin, lungs, throat…everything burned, seared, and the edges of my vision blurred.
“Do you know how a Jal’zar male claims his female?” Toagi’s voice was nothing but a growl against my ear as he pinned me to the ground from behind, pressing his erection against my ass with a warning thrust. “He chases her down, stings her with his claw, spills his seed deep inside her womb, and his hum completes the bond.”
I wiggled against the constraint of his massive body, wisps of hair clinging to my sweaty forehead. “I’m not your female!”
“No, you are my ticket to right the past.” Sudden pain exploded between my ribs. It roped around my body and set me ablaze, disabling my next breath. “You are the mate of Warlord Toagi. You are my urizaya.”
Gravity shifted around me as he picked me up, ripping a bloodied tailclaw from my flesh. He pressed me against a chest trembling with hums too deep, too rich, too fucking comforting. It dulled my pain into a throb, slacking my muscles to a degree my limbs flopped about when he propped me onto his yuleshi and mounted behind me.
“Zovazay.” His whisper hushed around me, strong arms pulling my sweat-drenched body against his. “You are mine now, Ceangal, because I claimed half of your soul.”
Three
Toagi
That female almost shot me.
But that wasn’t even the worst of my worries.
Hard as rock and pulsing, my cock strained against the leather separating me from Ceangal’s backside, the friction painful. Even more agonizing was this urge to throw her to the ground, fuck her, and fill her womb with enough seed her cunt would drip until the sun rose.
Nothing but an instinct over how she’d made me chase her, but a rather inconvenient one right this moment. Katedo would send a warband behind me to retrieve what was no longer his, and we needed to reach camp before he reached me.
To execute me, no doubt.
“Urizayo,” Yelim shouted as the paws of his yuleshi thundered up to me.
With supply packages dangling from his mount…
The sight alone tightened my chest. But as much as I’d told Katedo I didn’t want his handouts, in the end, I had to swallow my pride and steal the scraps he fed me for the sake of my tribe.
But not much longer.
Yelim rode up beside me, black braids bouncing on his shoulders as orange eyes roamed over Ceangal. “We nearly thought you didn’t make it out.”
“The female gave our urizayo a good chase.” Nafir reined his yuleshi up to us, the bound uiri in front of him screaming curses into the leather that gagged her. “Better hide the guns.”
And the knives as well. “Nothing zovazay can’t fix.”
If rumors held true.
By Mekara, they better, or putting my child inside Ceangal’s belly might prove a challenge indeed. Once she grew heavy with my son, there was little risk they wouldn’t confirm my rightful claim. After all, who wanted to piss off the Empire further by condemning the pregnant daughter of its leader to a life
with a Jal’zar outcast? Nobody. Neither would they attempt to kill who fathered a hybrid on her.
“Did she return to the chambers with the code?” I asked as I kicked my yuleshi into movement.
Nafir did the same as he tapped at the gash on the side of his neck, red flesh torn enough it showed black bone underneath. “Returned with the code and two guards Katedo sent to protect the woman. I took care of them.”
I glanced down at Ceangal, her face pale even against the red tint of the moon, her eyes barely open. “Are you in pain?”
She answered with a faint whimper, and already my throat vibrated with the soothing purrs and murmurs males of my kind produced to calm and comfort their females. I’d never hummed for one before, that scraping rattle beneath my sternum strange.
Strange and way too intimate.
But Ceangal seemed no calmer, her breathing short and labored. Despite the dampness of her hair, sweat no longer glistened on her forehead. Come to think of it, the sweetness of her sweat diluted more with each thrust of my yuleshi, fading away against the tang of warm rocks drifting on the current. Not good.
“She’s overheated.” Something harmful to a Jal’zar, but deadly to someone from Earth without proper acclimatization. “Yelim, hasten to camp and tell the shimid to prepare whatever can be done to ease this. She’s running a fever, I’m certain.”
“Yes, urizayo,” he said, clicking his mount into a sprint.
“You have to drink, Ceangal.” I grabbed the waterskin and wetted her lips, but she made no attempt to swallow.
A sudden pressure expanded at my core, but I breathed against it and grabbed into the saddlebag. I retrieved the soaked monhu leaves my shimid had prepared for this very possibility, and draped them over her forehead, sternum, and shoulders.
I didn’t like the pinched expression coming over Nafir’s face, my advisor’s voice little more than a mumble. “Whatever Uresha prepares, we have to break up camp as quickly as possible and return to our mother tree. If we don’t, Katedo will follow our tracks and kill us all.”
“She has foreseen a storm that will hide all traces if we keep north-east, just like Mekara wills it.”