by Cynthia Sax
The smells hit her first, the aromas of sweat, unwashed bodies, charred meats, freshly baked nourishment bars, sweeping over her.
The noise was almost unbearably loud. Beings yelled at each other, chattered. Metal clanged against metal. Flesh smacked against flesh.
After spending more than a solar cycle in near isolation, the number of beings in the space was uncomfortable for her.
The gawking also strained her patience.
“Do you see her face?” A female openly gaped at Xareni as she passed her.
“If I looked like that, I’d kill myself.” Her friend curled her top lip.
The other females twittered at that stupidity, their mirth edged with uneasiness.
Xareni focused on the beings who weren’t focusing on her.
A merchant displayed a sword, loudly promoting its attributes to a four-armed Palavian male. Three Silans punched the shit out of each other’s ridges while a crowd cheered. A two-cocked being of mixed origins fucked a pleasure worker’s ass and pussy at the same time. Their grunts echoed off the side of a structure.
A boy bumped into Xareni’s right side, jostling Spark.
She reached out, grabbed the child’s wrist before he could flee.
The boy gazed up at her. His mouth dropped open.
He was human. His face was dirty. He couldn’t have more than five solar cycles.
She didn’t recognize him, and he certainly didn’t recognize her, didn’t know who she was.
He held one of her daggers, had dared to steal from her.
Spark screeched with an outrage Xareni shared. He hopped along her arm toward the boy.
The little thief’s eyes rounded. He dropped the weapon and ran.
Xareni caught the blade before it hit the ground, returned it to its sheath.
Not all of those with few solar cycles were innocent. A weariness gripped her.
It was a respite to climb the stairs to the top of the wall. The clamor decreased. The air grew fresher. No one was situated too close to her.
Spark rubbed against her cheek, relaying his relief also.
They weren’t alone. Kralj and Dita waited for them at the top. But it was bearable.
“Having an additional warrior patrolling the walls could be beneficial.” Kralj’s voice seemed to originate from all around her. “There has been increased Humanoid Alliance activity on the planet.”
Dita stood on one side of the Ruler.
Xareni took a position on his other side.
Spark calmed, draping his form over her shoulder. The little drakon did that whenever they were in Kralj’s presence. She suspected the Ruler used his powers to control him.
“I’ve seen more Humanoid Alliance beings in my terrain, sir.” She told Kralj information he likely already knew. “One attacked a group of girls this planet rotation.”
“Extra protection is necessary.” That extra protection was for someone else. Kralj needed safeguarding from no one. “Guests arrive at sunrise.” He addressed the reason for her visit. “You will escort them to and from the clone community.”
She wouldn’t have to stay in the Refuge for a long duration. Her shoulders lowered.
“These guests will require a few planet rotations to recover from their trip before venturing outside the walls.” Kralj quashed that hope. “You will be on their schedule.”
That irked Xareni. She treasured her independence.
But for Kralj, she’d do anything.
“As you should.” The male read her thoughts. “I expect you to evaluate their skills. Dialo, Vietor, and Jeden will be joining you. Inform me if you require more warriors.”
The triplets combined didn’t yet equal the abilities of one of Kralj’s more-experienced modified humanoids. They were more likely to inflict wounds on themselves than on the enemy.
Xareni’s lips twisted. She had to craft a plan, ensure the members of the upcoming expedition would be adequately protected.
Kralj’s guests were arriving at sunrise.
She would position Spark and herself downwind from them, study the beings she would be escorting to the clone community, determine their competency, decide how much additional firepower she’d need to safeguard them.
If Kralj believed she might require more warriors, she would need them. The only factor she had left to decide was how many warriors would be added to the expedition team.
Kralj likely knew that information also. But he was giving her the illusion of control by allowing her to calculate the number.
And she appreciated that. Her chin lifted. She wouldn’t disappoint him, would take the assignment seriously.
“You are to take every assignment I give you seriously.” Kralj’s tone was dry.
The Ruler glanced once more at the horizon, tightened his grip on his mate’s hand, turned and descended the steps, leaving Xareni and Spark alone at the top of the wall.
Xareni looked at the horizon also, didn’t see anything other than sunlight shining off the sand. The open view soothed her. There were no walls around her. She could escape in any direction.
Her leather-covered fingers lifted to one of the scars on her face.
She was skilled, was more savvy in the harsh ways of the universe than she had been then.
Unlike Kralj’s guests.
Fuck. They needed safeguarding during a short jaunt to a nearby community. Her incredulity over that fact lightened her mood, banishing the shadows of the past. The Ruler’s guests must be as innocent, as inept as the girls she’d saved this planet rotation.
Xareni shook her head.
She doubted they would last half a shift on Carinae E without her protection.
Chapter Three
Ariq endured the voyage to Carinae E…barely.
By the time the Chamele warship landed on its surface, his restraint had been stripped to mere strands. The os khonzon, the need for vengeance, for battle, gripped him. Hard. Red rimmed his vision. His claws pricked at his skin.
He wanted to flee the confines of the vessel, put distance between himself and the others.
That wasn’t possible. Not yet.
As per Kralj’s instructions, Lysagh had to exit the ship first.
Ariq made as much noise as he could manage while he entered the training chambers.
Fabric rustled and footsteps sounded as Lysagh hurried to conceal herself.
Ariq looked down at the private viewscreen clasped in his hands, feigned interest in that blank surface. He could see, at the perimeter of his sightline, flight suit-clad legs hanging from the ceiling.
That garment had belonged to Second’s female. He’d left it for Lysagh.
The legs disappeared into the ceiling. The ceiling tile scraped against its support pieces.
He shook his head. The girl had much to learn about stealth.
“Yesun.” Ariq opened communications with the youth. “Second wants to meet with us, with all of us, on the bridge.” He relayed that information loudly. “The ship has landed. The doors are open, and the ramp is lowered. But do not exit the vessel. Everyone on the ship is to report to the bridge first.”
“I’m on the bridge.” Yesun had much to learn about tact. “Where in the universe are you?”
“I’m headed there right now.” Ariq ended the communication, glanced upward.
The ceiling tile was slightly askew.
Ariq exited the training chambers, but he didn’t return to the bridge. That section of the warship was packed with beings, and his mood wasn’t suited to crowded spaces.
The need to fight was too strong.
He positioned himself by the exterior doors to the ship, pressing his back against an interior wall. His garments and boots were discarded. He faded into the background.
All Chamales had that ability. One of his kind could easily detect him.
It was only beneficial when utilized against the enemy.
Or when one was trying to hide from a young human female.
Ariq waited.
>
Mere heartbeats later, Lysagh tiptoed past him. The bounty hunter-in-training acted as though she was completely unaware of his presence…which he suspected she was.
She sprinted down the ramp, streaked toward the settlement.
There was a blur of movement and the girl was tackled to the ground.
Ariq burst from his hiding spot and raced toward her. The need to kill, to fight, to protect, surged through him. He extended his claws.
And he smacked face first into an impregnable wall of air.
Pain burst over his forehead. Stars exploded in his brain.
He staggered backward, struggling to remaining upright. His claws retracted.
Lysagh’s shrieks tugged at his soul. The girl kicked and punched, valiantly fighting her attacker.
Her female adversary rolled Lysagh onto her front, stretched the girl’s arms back, secured her wrists with restraints. The assailant’s back was to Ariq. Her form was vaguely familiar.
“Don’t harm the girl.” He pushed against the invisible barrier separating him from Lysagh. “She’s under my protection.”
“That is incorrect.” Kralj came into view. The Ruler had moved beside the two females. Shadows concealed his face “She is under my protection.”
He blasted Ariq with air, knocking him backward.
Ariq’s back slammed against the side of the ship. He gasped. Agony coursed over his form.
Kralj was present, which meant…
Zondoo. Ariq’s gaze returned to Lysagh’s adversary.
That was why the female looked familiar. He inwardly cringed. The being he had almost attacked was Dita, the Ruler’s mate.
Another burst of air hit him.
Ariq gritted his teeth and silently accepted the reprimand.
No one threatened Dita. That was one of the Refuge’s few rules.
And no one broke those laws and lived to talk about it.
Transgressors were brutally killed by its Ruler. Their bodies were partially devoured. The remaining pieces were impaled on tall spikes and displayed outside the settlement, serving as a gruesome reminder to others.
Ariq was fortunate to still be alive, and he knew that.
“The girl needs your protection, sir.” Dita pulled a now-restrained Lysagh to her booted feet. “Her skills are weak.” The assassin sounded unimpressed. “I could have ended her lifespan before she detected my presence.”
“She walked right by the Chamele and didn’t notice him.” Kralj shook his head.
Lysagh spat sand out of her mouth. “I didn’t expect—”
“You should always expect an attack.” Kralj’s voice boomed. “You claim you want to become a monster…like I am, like Dita is.”
“I do want to become like you, sir.” The girl nodded vigorously. “I want to end lifespans. Capturing targets isn’t enough for me.”
“You don’t want that. No one wants this.” The shadows around the Ruler’s countenance temporarily cleared, revealing skin marred by scars most beings would view as horrendous.
Lysagh was one of those beings. The girl’s face turned pale.
But she didn’t look away. “I want that.” She whispered that reply. “Please.”
Kralj’s eyes softened for a breath. Then the shadows concealed his face once more. “Dita?”
“I could train her.” The little assassin tilted her head to one side and studied Lysagh. “It would be a lot of work—”
“I’ll work hard.” The girl’s jaw jutted. “I’ll do anything you ask of me. You won’t regret this.”
Dita looked at Kralj.
The Ruler’s head turned toward his mate.
A moment passed. Ariq had the impression they were communicating without words.
He retrieved his garments from the ship and dressed as he waited for their verdict, donning his ass coverings and his boots.
“Take her.” Kralj waved one of his hands dismissively. “Test her resolve.”
“Come with me, our little monster-in-training.” Dita guided Lysagh toward the gates. “You will be tested. I hope, for your well-being, you don’t fail those tests.”
As the two females walked, other beings were pushed away from them, the invisible barrier moving with them. No one was allowed to approach them.
They were likely the two safest beings on the planet.
And Lysagh appeared to be one of the happiest. Her eyes glowed. Her lips curled upward.
Ariq had never seen the girl smile. Ever.
His shoulders lowered. Lysagh wanted this, wanted Dita and Kralj to mentor her. As his trepidation dissipated, the wall of air in front of him lowered.
“Your Warlord and his gerel are aware she’ll be remaining on Carinae E.” Kralj addressed a concern Ariq hadn’t voiced. “I notified them of that decision before she boarded the ship.”
The rumors the Ruler could foresee the future must be true. “You knew Lysagh sought to meet with you.”
“I know everything.” Kralj’s tone indicated that was a wearisome skill, not a gift. “I know there are planets other than Chamele 2 that require warriors, and there are beings other than your kind that seek protectors.”
Ariq narrowed his eyes. “Chamele 2 is my home.” He would search for his gerel on other planets, but when he found the female, he would eventually return with her to his birthing settlement.
The os khonzon, the vengeance, was a genetic deviation. It was passed from parent to child. He wouldn’t allow any daughter or son of his to endure that alone.
In his birthing settlement, there would be many children with that affliction. His child would be normal, wouldn’t be the exception.
“Understanding isn’t exclusive to Chameles.” Kralj addressed his thoughts.
It wasn’t as simple as merely understanding it. Ariq opened his mouth.
“I know everything.” The Ruler repeated that statement. “Hulagu.” Kralj must have sensed the warrior’s approach. He didn’t turn his head. “Take care of our guests.”
“Yes, sir.” The Chamele grinned.
Hulagu’s human gerel waited by the gates. She preferred not to exit the settlement.
Kralj walked toward the Refuge. His stride was long and eerily smooth.
Ariq frowned, gazing at the Ruler’s leather-clad back. His thoughts dwelled on their exchange.
Even if there were beings on Carinae E who understood the os khonzon, which was highly unlikely, that wouldn’t be enough for him, for his children.
Understanding wasn’t the same as knowing.
Second was Chamele, and he didn’t fully comprehend the struggles Ariq faced.
Once after an extremely bloody battle, after Ariq had released his vengeance and had left no enemies standing, Second had suggested he teach other warriors the os khonzon.
He viewed it as a skill to be learned—like bounty hunting or being an assassin.
It wasn’t like that. At all. Ariq’s lips twisted. It was part of him. There was no relaying os khonzon to others, no abandoning it in times of peace. It would be with him always.
He could only manage the urges. And teach his children to do the same.
“I heard our Warlord and his gerel had a son.” Hulagu slapped him on his shoulder. “Have you seen him? Is he as powerful as his father?”
There would be more talk of babies. Ariq inwardly groaned. “I—”
“Hulagu.” Second ran down the ramp.
The two brothers embraced, smacking backs, pounding the shit out of each other. Second’s gerel, Qulpa, Qulpa’s gerel, Yesun, others, joined the conversation.
The talk of babies resumed. Ariq drifted to the outskirts of the group.
Kralj must have sensed his isolation, his exclusion, his restlessness.
Ariq kicked a sand drift.
His suggestion that Ariq find another planet to call home hadn’t been a foretelling of the future. The Ruler had merely been offering him sanctuary, giving him another option.
The os khonzon was causing him to see battles w
here there were none. The tension inside him was stretched too tightly. He had to release some of it.
Seeking an outlet, he gazed around him.
A group of Humanoid Alliance males watched him and his fellow Chameles. They hadn’t been granted access to the Refuge…which was a notable feat. The settlement hosted some of the roughest, most unpleasant beings in the universe.
Kralj and the other modified humanoid warriors hated the human males. The Ruler wouldn’t mind if one or two or all of them died, and killing was allowed outside the settlement’s walls.
Ariq took a step toward them. It wouldn’t take much to provoke a fight and then he could—
The wind shifted slightly, coming from the southwest, instead of the west. An enticing fragrance teased his nostrils.
Ariq inhaled. Deeply.
His cock hardened. His blood sang with anticipation. He looked around him, searching for the source.
The scent vanished, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. He turned, sniffing the air. It was gone. There was no trace of it.
He frowned. Had he imagined that decadent aroma?
It could have been a figment of his imagination, a result of his extreme loneliness, of his appalling desperation to have a purpose, to have someone.
His gaze returned to the Humanoid Alliance males. Once he hunted, killed, burned off the os khonzon, he would think rationally, would stop imagining scents that didn’t exist.
He took another step toward the males. His claws rose to the surface of his skin.
A shadow fell over him.
He tilted his head back.
A creature circled high above him. Its wings were spread wide. The sunlight reflected off its green scales.
It had the appearance of a predator. Talons decorated its four feet. Its mouth was slightly open, and its sharp teeth were visible.
Yet it was amusingly small. It was unlikely to cause harm to a full-grown Chamele warrior.
Ariq looked at the great green gatekeeper guarding the entrance to the Refuge.
Balvan was watching the tiny predator also, his expression riveted. The modified humanoid was known for his affection for creatures, often tended to them when they were hurt.
His gaze lowered, met Ariq’s. The big male nodded.
Ariq nodded back. He assumed Balvan was confirming the creature was his. That—
