by Abel, Regine
“The females will run in the same Hunt?” I asked, my heart soaring at the thought of all the skulls I would bash in before snagging my girls and running them to our freedom.
“Not exactly,” Nemrox conceded. “Normally, the Mating Hunt and the Blood Hunt occur on different days. This time, I will make an exception and run them simultaneously.”
The way the Emperor spoke the words made it crystal clear he was doing me a special favor. This, more than anything else before, confirmed he was trying to pave the way to a potential alliance between our peoples instead.
“However, they are held in different parkours,” Zerien cautioned, flicking his long, bluish hair over his shoulder. “The women run through the Gardens—the east side of the river. The terrain is flat and unencumbered, and the woods are safe. You will run through the Gauntlet. The terrain is uneven, with treacherous vines eager to trip you, poisonous plants, and wild beasts determined to feast on your flesh. But the finish line is the same. Should Hope and Siona reach the Monolith without getting claimed, they will be free to leave.”
“I will cross that river and make sure both of my females get to the Monolith with me.” My gaze bore deep into the young prince’s eyes, a warning in my voice. “I will crush anyone who stands in my way.”
“Siona is my soulmate,” Zerien snarled. “I will fight for her to my last breath.”
“You may fight for her when she comes of age,” I snapped back, although impressed by the strength of the boy and the genuine feelings he seemed to bear Siona. “Until then, she will be raised on Braxia.”
Zerien glared at me, his lips twisting into a snarl while the tips of his descending fangs peeked out. I could smell his anger and see the predator lurking within his silver-blue eyes identical to his sire. The Emperor stared intensely at his son, as did the guards. His words as to his people’s struggle with their nature finally sank in. Although no one said a word, they kept watch, ready to intervene. The metallic smell of blood reached me seconds before I noticed the blue drops pooling at the edges of Zerien’s fisted hands. The boy swallowed painfully and slowly opened his hands, as the vicious tips of his claws receded. Raising his palms to his face, he slowly licked the blood of each, his darkened eyes never straying from mine.
The shadow of a proud smile stretched the Emperor’s lips, while tension bled from his shoulders and those of his guards. The storm had passed. Turning away from me, Zerien faced the wall, teeth clenched, a nerve ticking at his temple.
“She will return to me at sixteen,” Zerien begrudgingly said at last.
“Eighteen,” I countered in a tone that brooked no argument.
Zerien’s head snapped towards me, his anger coming back with a vengeance. He took one menacing step towards me that had his sire straighten and the guards stand at the ready.
“Sixteen is the galactic age of consent,” Zerien snarled.
“Of sexual consent,” I corrected in an appeasing tone. “Eighteen is the age for formal bonds and marriage. If you wish to date her, you may come stay on Braxia. But if you wish to claim her as your bride, you will wait until she’s eighteen.”
The boy stared at me with growing resentment, but still he showed restraint that further increased my esteem for him.
“And then she comes back here with me,” Zerien said.
“And then you get to court her for a week in a neutral terrain,” I said cautiously. “And she will choose whether she wishes to formally enter into a relationship with you.”
“One month on Venus Hive, no meddling or interference from you, her mother, or anyone else,” Zerien replied through his teeth.
I hesitated, knowing pushing him any further wouldn’t benefit anyone. I didn’t need to see souls or auras like the Korletheans—and apparently the Sarenians—to know this young man would fight even gods to be with my daughter. In a way, it warmed my heart to know she would be truly loved and protected. But it also worried me that we were currently on opposing sides of the building conflict.
“Agreed,” I conceded at last with a stiff nod.
Zerien stared at me for a few seconds longer before turning around and taking a seat on the cushioned bench next to his sire, to the relief of the guards.
“You know, you are mighty cocky and demanding for a prisoner in shackles,” the Emperor mused out loud. “We could simply kill you and keep your females.”
I snorted and nodded slowly. “You could,” I conceded. “But only keeping me alive and my females safe has a chance to avert an open war between our peoples. As we speak, my firstborn and my king are zeroing in on Sarenia. My son was investigating the shady deals Luther Stromland—the human who sold my mate to that vermin Juntel—was involved in. By now, they will know the biggest deal came from Sarenia, and failing to reach me to update me about his findings will have tipped him off. So, yes, I’m cocky. But even without that, whenever my family is concerned, especially my child, I do not compromise.”
“Fair enough, but you still need to survive the Hunt,” Nemrox reminded me. “The Guldan Ambassador will do everything in his power to make sure you don’t.”
“I do not fear the Guldan,” I said with a dismissive shrug. “I’m looking forward to seeing him on the field. We have a score to settle.”
The Emperor chuckled. “Feel free to maim him, but do not kill him,” Nemrox demanded. “I have plans for him.”
The hardness of his tone erased any doubt the Sarenians had nefarious plans already in motion involving the Guldans. An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. How much were they also playing me? I believed myself a great judge of character, but that hadn’t prevented Marla from utterly fooling me.
No. You had ‘allowed’ yourself to be fooled.
“How do I trust you will keep your word on everything we’ve just discussed when you are openly plotting against your current allies?” I asked in a stern voice.
“We aren’t allies,” Zerien said smugly. “That will be my decision to make when my reign begins. My father is laying the foundations for a potential alliance while ensuring we have the proper safety measures to avoid a potential betrayal like they attempted with your people.”
I chuckled, further impressed. “So, then you do intend to join the Galactic Alliance despite your reservation.”
“No,” Zerien said with an intense stare. “I intend to make the Braxians, the Veredians, and the Xelixiens leave it, and join us instead.”
“Then it is the Guldans you’ve already decided to cast aside,” I said.
Zerien’s smile, mysterious and taunting, contained a wisdom far beyond his years. In that instant, the image of the young Vahleryon Praghan, the prophesized Great General that would lead the alliance into the Great War, flashed before me. Like him, Zerien was an old soul.
“The only thing I have already decided, High Council Aldriss, is that when the Great War comes, I will be on the winning side, and that victory will mean freedom for my people and the preservation of our way of life,” the young prince said calmly before rising to his feet. “So, see that you win your Blood Hunt. I need you to ensure my Siona will be raised to be as fierce, as strong, and as ruthless a queen as your Dagna for when she reigns by my side. May your Ancestors fight with you.”
After a slight bow of his head, the Prince turned around and walked out of my cell, accompanied by one of the guards. The Emperor rose to his feet, an unreadable smile playing on his lips.
“Remarkable young male,” I said, genuinely impressed.
The Emperor puffed out his chest, his smile broadening. “The strongest of my offspring. He found me through our blood bond a few weeks before his fifth name day when most children only find their sires between the ages of nine and twelve. He will make a formidable ruler for our people… and a great ally.” The way he said those last words left little room for interpretation. “I like you, Krygor Aldriss. When the Great War comes, I hope we will be on the same side.”
With a similar bow of his head in farewell, the Emperor
turned to leave my cell.
“Emperor Nemrox,” I called out before he left. He looked at me over his shoulder. “I would see my mate and child.”
He hesitated, a slight frown marring his forehead. The intense stare of his guards seemed to indicate my request was not only unusual, but that their rules would have implied his immediate refusal. Nemrox pursed his lips and gave me an assessing look.
“Thirty minutes, not a second more,” the Sarenian ruler said at last. “See that you use that time wisely before the Hunts.”
I snorted, once more awed by his perceptiveness. “Thank you. I most certainly will.”
“Good man,” Nemrox replied. “May your enemies tremble before you.”
With those last words, the Emperor left, accompanied by one guard. The other two swiftly removed the benches from my cell, locked the door, and then deactivate the shackles around my ankles that kept me rooted in place. I walked up to the bars and made eye contact with my men. They approached their bars so that we could begin to strategize.
Yes, tomorrow, my enemies would tremble before me.
Chapter 15
Hope
Some sort of frenzy had taken over the Serail that had nothing to do with the upcoming Hunt. Although the women had been thrilled to know it had been moved up to tomorrow, something else was going on. A few of them had received a private message, and immediately rushed out of the common room to enter their private quarters. Seconds later, the other females had gone to prepare some kind of feast and arrange the common room and private areas.
Baffled, Siona and I exchanged a confused look, uncertain what to do.
“Gatina!” I called out as she was storming past me, “What’s going on?”
“We have special visitors coming,” she replied without slowing down.
More confused than ever, Siona and I decided to stay out of the way and watched with awe at the bustling of activity.
“They’re here!” Gatina shouted about five minutes later.
Excited squeals answered her. Within seconds, the females who had gone into their private quarters came back out, looking like complete nervous wrecks. Tough, confident, sassy Hamara appeared on the verge of a nervous breakdown. She’d changed out of her usual very revealing outfits into a sexy but proper dress that hugged her curves in the right way without giving glimpses of her naughty bits. The word ‘lady’ came to mind as she ran a nervous hand through her long hair.
I opened my mouth to ask her what was going on with her, but the chime of the elevator drew my attention. The other females who had received a private message had also changed into more demure outfits and gathered near the lifts.
As soon as the doors parted from both elevators, the mystery evaporated. My throat tightened at the sight of two dozen children pouring out from each elevator. Nine adult Sarenian males and three females accompanied them. They were older than any other Sarenian I’d met so far, and also looked different. The crown-shaped horns on their heads were longer, and three rows of gills graced each side of their necks. To my shock, what I’d assumed to be light-blue, iridescent capes on their backs actually appeared to be some kind of flowy fins.
“They are the Patriarchs and Matriarchs of three different pods,” Gatina said softly next to me, startling me.
“Three?” I asked, confused. “But there are twelve of them.”
“Three females, nine males,” Gatina said with a mischievous glimmer in her eyes. “Do the math.”
My jaw dropped, and my head jerked back towards the older adults. Sure enough, it quickly became apparent three males gravitated around a specific female and their clutch of children. The latter left their ‘parents’ to scatter through the room towards the females that had received messages. Seeing Hamara fiercely embrace two young boys before covering their faces with kisses turned me upside down.
“The lack of females to males doesn’t disappear once we reach full maturity,” Gatina said softly. “Over the years, we grow close to some of the Hunters. In the last decade before our final molt, many pods will begin to form. This is when you see the highest frequency of Hunters claiming the female they caught for a full month to assess their compatibility in cohabiting.”
The ‘parents’ were standing at a respectful distance to allow the mothers a few minutes with their children. They would then approach when the mother turned to greet them. It was fascinating watching the ‘parents’ give something akin to a report about the children’s progress and random little tidbits about them, from their favorite foods, to special talents, and bad habits.
But the most striking thing to me was how harmonious and joyful the whole process appeared to be. I had expected some kind of resentment from the children at being ‘abandoned’ by their mothers. And yet, I found none. In fact, their eyes were filled with love as they basked in their mother’s attention who, in turn gazed upon their offspring with pride.
“Are those fins on their backs?” Siona asked, her eyes wide with awe.
“Yes, although they also serve as wings,” Gatina explained. “In the early days after their first molt, the babies spend half of their time on land and the other underwater. While we can all breathe through our skin when submerged, if the body of water we’re in doesn’t have enough oxygen, we could drown. By gaining gills and fins during their final molt, Patriarchs and Matriarchs are better suited to accompany the children and give them assistance during that transition phase.”
“You guys can fly?!” Siona exclaimed, as stunned as I was.
Gatina laughed, amused by our expressions. “Yes and no. We do not fly like birds, but we can ride the air currents, and therefore glide over short or long distances. But that normally requires us launching from some kind of elevation.”
Hamara waved us over, a huge grin on her face. We approached, Siona buzzing with excitement, and me feeling mightily intimidated, if not embarrassed, remembering how judgmental I had previously been of their culture.
“Hope, Siona, meet my third son, Mares. He is nine and top of his class in sciences. He wants to be a biochemist,” Hamara said, puffing out her chest with pride. “And this is my fifth son, Volias. He’s six, but already displaying tremendous physical skills and dexterity. He wants to become an Imperial Guard.”
“I will be the First Guard to Emperor Zerien when he ascends,” the stunning boy said with his high-pitched young voice.
“Work hard and you will, my love,” Hamara said. She then waved at the Matriarch and three Patriarchs standing nearby. “These are his parents. They are currently raising five other children, including my two boys. It’s always a blessing when blood siblings end up under the same roof.”
“And I believe I’ve found my sire,” Mares said, puffing out his own chest. “I felt the tug of the blood bond when we flew past the Palace.”
“That’s wonderful, sweetheart!” Hamara exclaimed, before casting an inquisitive look at the Matriarch.
“Kinan will take Mares on a walk through the Palace after our visit here,” the Matriarch said, indicating one of her mates with the wave of a hand.
“Wonderful, thank you,” Hamara said with a grateful smile.
“Matriarch Leona and her pod have raised some of the finest members of our society,” Gatina said with undisguised awe. “I hope my own pod will be as successful.”
“You flatter me, Siren Gatina,” Leona said, blushing prettily under the approving gaze of her mates. “Just be thorough in the selection of your life partners. A strong pod makes all the difference.”
The chime of the elevator ringing drew our attention again. Stunned expressions descended on everyone’s faces at the sight of two Imperial Guards coming out of the lift. They scanned the room, looking for someone, until their eyes landed on me. My stomach lurched, and Siona pressed herself against me, her body tensing.
The lack of alarm from the other females somewhat reassured me as they looked on with curiosity.
“Nymph Hope, Nymph Siona, you have been granted a thirty-minute
visit with the Braxian prisoner Krygor,” one of the guards said. “Please, follow us.”
“Oh, Goddess!” I exclaimed, my heart soaring in my chest.
“Papa!” Siona whispered with excitement.
Mumbling some mostly unintelligible apology to the other females and the visitors, I promptly followed the guards down the elevator into the underground parking lot from where we hopped onto a shuttle to the Arena. A brutal rainstorm raged outside. It wasn’t terrible enough to ground all shuttles, but it would beyond dampen any desire for naughty plays outside—pun intended. If it could continue into the morning, the Sarenians would be forced to cancel the Hunt. If nothing else, that would give my man a bit more time to heal from the savage whipping he received.
It took every ounce of my willpower not to yell at the guards to get a move on while they leisurely strutted their way down the wide corridor of the holding area. It was much nicer and cleaner than I’d expected, despite the glaring lack of comforts. The large cells all appeared empty aside from the three Braxians. We passed in front of Yulan’s cell first. He nodded at me then winked at Siona. Seeing him looking well and in such high spirit reassured me. The cell adjacent to his sat empty but, through the bars, I caught a glimpse of my beloved giant’s massive frame.
Pushing past the guards, I ran to his cell and hung onto the bars, my lips silently forming his name. His brutish face softened in that frightening way it always did whenever he gazed upon me. The tender smile that stretched his lips would have sent most people running for the hills, but it made me melt from the inside out.
“Papa!” Siona exclaimed, after coming to stand next to me.
“Stay where you are,” one of the guards said to Krygor who hadn’t moved from the back of his cell.
He spoke a command in Sarenian and a red light lit on the shackles around my man’s ankles, no doubt rooting him in place. After forcing my daughter and me to take a step back, the second guard opened the cell’s door. I all but shoved him out of the way to rush to my giant and throw myself into his arms.