The Melier: Prodigal Son

by Poppy Rhys

  Something huge and furry jumped the checkout lines, bounding through the shadows and directly at her.

  It snatched up her struggling form with its clawed hands against her flesh, crushing her against its chest before she could even warble a scream.

  “Do not move,” Jruviin firmly, calmly, instructed her, and dropped her rope leash to dangle from her neck.

  Dania froze.

  “M’Oklo’s teeth,” Val’Koy cursed under his breath while he and Jru gradually backed away.

  What the hell were they doing?

  “Don’t leave me!” she whisper-yelled, wide eyed, and still as a stone statue while her feet dangled above the ground.

  The heat of whatever had her in its grasp scorched her back and her stomach where its burly, hairy arms encircled her middle.

  Something else touched her, wiggling around her sides and patting her down. She gasped, eyes darting downward as she tried to not move. Two hot pink feelers slithered around her waist, down her hips and thighs, leaving behind damp imprints.

  A wet, hot muzzle roughly nosed the nape of her neck and snuffed in her nearly dry curls. Dania tried her best to not hyperventilate and focused on Jruviin slowly reaching for his spear that lay in the claims pile.

  “Guys?” she muttered. “What’s happening?”

  “He is forming a bond,” Jruviin murmured, voice hardened.

  “M’Oklo’s teeth,” Val cursed again.

  “A-a what? What kind of bond?”

  “A bond with you.” Jru easily handled his spear and raised it, eyes darkening. “His mate.”

  “What?!” she cried, unable to keep her voice low with the jolt of panic, and the thing at her back stiffened. Its muzzle retreated from her curls to rest against her ear. Its enormous, slate colored, hand-like paw raised and laid against her throat like he might tear it out.

  “Male hurt you?”

  The long muzzle entered her peripheral, black lips pulling up over black gums and sharpened teeth as it snarled at Jruviin, reminding her of a rabid canine.

  It wasn’t even the scary as fuck sound that rumbled from the thing or the muzzle so close to her face or the shortened, curled claws at her jugular...

  She’d heard it in her mind.

  Her cool cracked in half and she yelled, “HOW CAN I HEAR HIM IN MY HEAD?!”

  “You hear him already?” Val’Koy’s brow lowered, seemingly confused.

  Dania was confused too. She was confused as fuck.

  “The telepathic bond formed quick.” Jru appeared mildly impressed.

  What was there to be impressed about? Someone—something—was invading her brain!

  “Kill male?” it whispered to her mind, the voice in her head sounding masculine. The words weren’t even English, but she somehow understood them.

  “No!” she quickly blurted aloud. “Don’t kill him!”

  “No kill male?”

  “No!” she repeated. “No,” Dania said again, internally that time.

  The snarling stopped.

  “This is crazy,” she breathed. “This is crazy! I’m his mate?”

  Val’Koy grated, “It is not sexual for a wolvenk.”

  “Companion is more appropriate than mate,” Jruviin smoothed his feathers as he corrected his previous statement. He seemed flustered, and Dania recalled the dark, possessive glint in his eyes from before. “Wolvenk are guardians.”

  “They are sexless soldiers.” Val’Koy took a step closer, not making any sudden movements.

  “But he sounds like a man in my head.” Dania was confused.

  “They are masculine,” Jru nodded, “but they are sexless soldiers, unlike the breeding drones of his race.”

  She swallowed, and Val took another step. “How do I tell him thanks but no thanks?”

  “You cannot. The telepathic bond has formed. His mind would deteriorate without his ma—”

  “Companion,” Val gruffly corrected.

  Jruviin sighed. “Without his companion.”

  Her brow pinched at the thought of the thing—wolvenk—holding her captive losing his mind because she didn’t want him.

  “What happens after that?” she asked Jru.

  “Death.”

  The word struck her, and she flinched. Careful of the paw at her throat, Dania canted her head, looking up and to the side so she could face the creature.

  She could swear she gazed at an oversized wolf that walked on two legs and dwarfed her. His face, like most of his body, was covered in gray fur, peppered with black and white strands. Tall ears rose from its head, flicking this way and that, taking in every sound.

  His eyes, one yellow and one arctic blue, openly stared at her.

  His long, gray tongue licked up the side of her face and she choked back the ew that almost erupted from her.

  “Taste good,” he pushed into her mind and Dania scrubbed the saliva from her cheek and temple.

  “Don’t eat me.”

  The wolvenk snuffed air through his black nose, lip curling. “Not eat you.”

  “We can give it a quick death,” Val’Koy suggested, side-eying Jru who held the spear. “Do not miss.”

  “Wait!” she urged. “Will he harm me?”

  His brow lowered, and he begrudgingly answered, “Never.”

  Jruviin added, “He would guard you and your offspring until he dies. Wolvenk’s have long lifespans in safe environments.” His grip on the spear slackened, his expression changing to one of contemplation. “This could... this could work in our favor.”

  Val’Koy chuffed air.

  “Protect you,” the beast whispered. “Mine.”

  Her eyes bugged. “Yours?”

  Val’Koy growled and the wolvenk started snarling again too.

  “Okay guys,” Dania raised her hands. “Let’s just... calm down.” The wolvenk quieted again, Val silencing soon after. “Why’s he here?”

  “It is likely he was poached,” Jru mused. “A prize from another sector, perhaps.”

  “Live possessions serve two purposes here: sex and food,” Val’Koy grunted. “He was on someone’s menu.”

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  DANIA

  “I think he’s hungry.” Dania chewed the inside of her cheek and glanced from the wolvenk’s jaws oozing tendrils of drool, to the hanging slab of meat, and back again.

  Val’Koy and Jruviin stood there, expressions tight. She knew they were vexed. They would’ve sold the wolvenk if they hadn’t realized the added protection would be good.

  Now the wolvenk stood at her side with a new brand on the inside of his tall ear that marked him as their property.

  No one thought it necessary to tether a mated wolvenk since he wouldn’t leave Dania’s side, and she was collared and leashed already.

  His shortened bushy gray tail kicked back and forth periodically while he stared longingly at every food vendor.

  “It does look tasty,” Dania admitted.

  “You do not want that,” Val’Koy nodded toward the meat. “Or any meat from these vendors. If you knew what—”

  “No,” she held up her hand, appetite vanishing. “Please don’t finish that sentence.”

  Val’Koy dipped his chin, acquiescing.

  “Are you hungry?” she thought, pressing her hand against the wolvenk’s sinewy forearm that hung by his side as he slightly hunched forward.

  “Yes. All food good.” He turned to look at her, leaning down to bonk his fluffy head against hers before staring at the meat again. “But you not food.”

  She couldn’t smother her quick laugh. “What is your name?”

  The wolvenk made a series of sounds in his throat, but Dania couldn’t mimic them if she tried.

  “What does it mean?”

  “Dangerous river on planet.”

  “Can I call you River?”

  “This better for Mine?”

  Dania side-eyed Val and Jru, their homed in expressions—like they were trying to read lips of a conversation far away—made
her relieved they didn’t hear the wolvenk call her mine. Again.

  “Yes. I can’t pronounce your name in your language.”

  He reached out and touched her throat, causing Jru and Val to stiffen. His knobby, callused, sparsely furred knuckles rubbed the hollow. “No make wolvenk sounds?”

  “I can’t.”

  He debated this, his bushy brows, and the wispy black whiskers sprouting from them, pulling in. “Mine call me River.”

  She smiled. “And you can call me Dania.”

  Again, he made sounds in his throat. A rich reverberation with a soft trill near the end that pleased her ears.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Name for Mine. Dania.”

  “Oh,” she said aloud.

  “Oh?” Jruviin inquired.

  The guys hovered near, and she was beginning to feel rude to be having a conversation they couldn’t hear. “Uh, he was just telling me his name and I told him mine.” She scratched her temple. “This is River. River, this is Jruviin and Val’Koy.”

  “Mates?” River pushed into her head, his knuckles still at her throat. She’d wondered if they had to be touching to communicate, but he’d spoken to her mind even when they weren’t in contact.

  She could feel the heat of a blush creeping over her face, especially after what happened in the changing room. “Um, no. Not really, no. No, I don’t think so,” her inner voice prattled. “They keep me safe. Won me.”

  “I keep Mine safe.”

  She cleared her throat. “Dania. My name is Dania, remember?”

  “Yes.”

  “You can all keep me safe, how about that?”

  River’s mismatched eyes darted from her to the guys and back again. “Dania safe. All that matters.”

  “Yes,” she nodded. “I like the sound of that!”

  “The sound of what?” Val’Koy grated.

  “All of you keeping me safe.”

  They nodded, and Val’Koy purchased the slab of meat from the vendor who tossed it to River. The poor guy devoured it, his sharp teeth biting and shredding the hunk like it was soft cheese.

  Everyone crowded in to their den as the night covered everything in darkness, River snatched her up and curled his body around hers near the side of the cave.

  When she peeked over his body at Val’Koy and Jruviin—whose tails loudly thumped and swished against the stone—they appeared ready to cut the wolvenk into bloody ribbons for stealing her. With her widened eyes, she tried to say, ‘Guys, I don’t know how we got here, but this isn’t my fault!’

  Dania didn’t think they got the message.

  Soon, River was snorting and snarling in his sleep, reminding her of an overweight and congested ro’catta. His digitigrade legs flinched and every now and then, his foot would twitch, thick claws scratching the stone, like he was running in his sleep.

  “I’m going to need another bath,” she whispered, trying her best not to wake River as she gradually inched from his grasp. “And he definitely needs one.”

  “Are you sure you do not want to stay with your new mate?” Val’Koy clicked, and Dania could hear the contempt in his tone.

  Dania reached out her hands, feeling her way in the dark and moving slowly. “Are you jealous?” she teased.

  “No.”

  “Liar,” she whispered and grinned, patting the stone in front of her as she escaped River’s grasp. “Where are you guys?”

  “Here,” Jruviin whispered into her ear, causing her to jolt before latching onto him. Her fingers sank into his silky feathers, tips diving into the buttery soft down beneath. She lightly scratched her nails against his skin and he cooed, pulling her into his lap.

  That contented sound, reminding her of a dove’s call, comforted her in the same way Val’Koy’s purring did.

  “Val?” she lowly called.

  “I am here,” he assured, his tone warmer now. A hand gently captured her ankle and slid up her calf, thumb rubbing circles into her muscle.

  “Mmm,” she moaned, forehead resting against Jru’s hard chest. “You don’t understand how good that feels.” Heat sidled up beside Jru in the form of Val’Koy. Her feet rested in the Melier’s lap while he continued to massage her legs.

  “What’s next for us?” she murmured, feeling her eyelids grow heavy.

  “Travel to sector five,” Val’Koy answered and Jru ran his hand up and down her spine, rubbing in tandem with Val.

  She nodded and drifted off.

  ****

  VAL’KOY

  “Vu’Mal’Su will not let this go,” he spoke low in the night, mindful not to wake Dania or her new pet.

  “The fight? How do you know?” Jruviin asked, his arm protectively tightening around Dania. They’d stretched out and moved her to lay between them so her body wouldn’t get cold.

  Val’Koy knew ending the fight quickly would affect their subscriber count—and it had according to the claims guard—and he doubted Vu’Mal’Su would let it slide. They’d willingly fucked with the emperor’s money.

  “I feel it,” he admitted, the sense of foreboding thread his blood. “Something is going to happen.”

  “You think he will take Dania from us?” Jruviin’s voice had dropped to barely above a whisper and Val’Koy knew the Drae tried to mask his dread.

  “I do not know, but sector five is dangerous.” The sector was the farthest from the others. The city was the poorest of all on Tundrin. Crime ran rampant, and the local crowd needed fights to be brutal—more than usual. Val’Koy didn’t want to take Dania there.

  The muted sounds of the hushed city around them filled the space and then, in a determined tone, Jruviin declared, “We have to escape.”

  “I know,” he murmured, twisting a lock of Dania’s hair around his finger. “I know.”

  Sector five was a hazardous vat just waiting for a spark to blow it up. The dome precariously inched toward a riot every day. The mentality soaked into one’s bones as soon as they entered the city, and not even the guards wanted a rotation in sector five.

  “I do not want to lose her,” Jruviin whispered.

  Me either.

  TWENTY-NINE

  DANIA

  Things had changed.

  Ever since that encounter in the locker room, everything felt stiff. The air was charged with a tension as they traveled on the thuxillian, and Dania couldn’t quite put a finger on what it may be.

  It wasn’t sexual. If anything, they’d grown broodier and... protective.

  At first, she thought it might be the wolvenk’s presence, but they barely paid him any mind except in the evenings when he stole her for cuddles until he fell asleep.

  “Do you miss your home, River?” she’d asked him one night, their conversation silent and just between them.

  One of his feelers had slithered from between the muscled ribs of his side and patted her hip. It was bizarre, but it seemed to be his way of reacquainting himself with her.

  “Home with Mine.”

  She rolled her eyes and reminded him, “Dania. I’m Dania.”

  “Mine Dania.”

  It was hopeless.

  “Before you got here, I mean. Wherever you came from, do you miss it?”

  He chuffed and buried his muzzle in her hair. “Better with Mine.”

  “What is your old home like?” she petted his furry arm, the hair was coarse, but soft in its own way, even if he stank like a street dog. He really needed a bath.

  “Hunt for pack, eat, sleep,” he mumbled to her mind.

  “Is your pack your family?”

  “Pack is pack.”

  Dania stuck her tongue in her cheek to keep from chuckling. River didn’t mince words. “What were your mother and father like? Did you have a pack leader?”

  He stiffened. “Alpha. Scary. Biggest. Submit to her before trapped and find Mine.”

  Dania hummed, and River squeezed her closer.

  “Never leave Mine.”

  The words comforted her, because she
didn’t want to let River go. She felt completely safe with Val’Koy and Jruviin but they had to enter the arena. Having a companion that would—as Jru had said—protect her and her future younglings for the rest of her life—was comforting.

  She didn’t know what she’d do with him back home, whenever she got there. Dania couldn’t take him to work with her, and she didn’t think he’d do well if left alone in her apartment.

  That was a dilemma for another day.

  “You didn’t have a, uh, mate back on your planet?” She didn’t know what else to call it.

  “Have alpha. Serve. Not mate.”

  “Is that what the drones are for?”

  “Yes. Alpha mate wolvenkin. Drone. Not wolvenk, soldier. Many wolvenkin to mate alpha.”

  She understood the slight difference. “What will she do without you?”

  River’s head lifted, and he peered down at her, as if confused. “Other wolvenk protect.”

  “There are a lot?”

  “Army of wolvenk protect alpha and wolvenkin mates.”

  “Mates? There’s more than one for the alpha?” Maybe that was why he’d asked if Val’Koy and Jruviin were her mates.

  “Many. Alpha tire of same cane.”

  She didn’t think it meant a walking stick. “Err, what? What’s a cane?”

  “Penis.”

  Dania’s eyes bugged, and she burst out laughing, startling River and, subsequently, Val’Koy and Jruviin.

  “A’Drast,” Val’Koy sighed and slumped back against the wall, tail thumping. He was clearly agitated by the sudden breach of silence.

  “Are you well?” Jruviin queried, his tone perplexed.

  “Yeah.” She snorted a couple times and it quickly turned into wicked chortles again. “Just learning about wolvenk cane.”

  “I do not like the sound of that,” Val’Koy grated and Dania had no hope of recovering.

  After that night, she’d come to think of River’s people as a canine race of hive-like aliens. The wolvenk served an alpha female and her breeders—unless they formed a bond with another—at which point they left the placeholder pack and served their true alpha.

  Dania didn’t know how to feel about River considering her his alpha female. Val had said it wasn’t sexual, but more like a guardian bond. It could be worse, much worse, so she tried not to sweat it.