by Octavia Kore
A shadow moved across the outside of the wall, and Clara plastered a sweet, disarming smile on her face. When the alien stepped through the material, Clara felt the smile slowly slip away. This wasn’t her alien, and he didn’t look happy to see her.
Chapter 5
Zaheer
Trepidation bloomed within his chest as Zaheer approached the temple. He set his jaw against the growing unease and drew in a deep breath through his nose. Standing in the shadow of his people’s place of worship with such a heavy burden on his shoulders was not something he’d ever imagined himself doing. The secret of the outsiders weighed him down, but he wouldn’t tell the High Priest just yet.
Stay calm, his guardian said. Act as though nothing is out of place. Do not give our tsa away.
I don’t need your coaching. You’re partly to blame for this mess I’m trying to get us out of with the female. Before his guardian could respond, Zaheer slammed a mental door on him. They’d been together long enough for Zaheer to know that there was no arguing with the beast. He’d made up his mind that this alien was their tsa, and that was that. The word bounced around in Zaheer’s mind. The way his chest tightened anytime he heard it, like his body recognized it but his mind did not, filled him with an annoyance he couldn’t shake.
The longer he stood here on the ground staring up at the temple, the longer it was going to take for him to get back to the outpost. If he wasted any more time, he just might talk himself out of this talk, and what would that do for Tratek? The male was dwindling like the light of the sun as it gave way to night. His pack member’s safety should be his priority, so with that thought in mind, Zaheer began his ascent.
A lifetime of climbing this particular tree meant he didn’t even need to think about where his hands and feet needed to be; they moved on instinct now. His fingers had become accustomed to the hardness of the bark long ago during his early climbs to receive cleansings and prayers. Above him, jutting from the sides of the giant tree were a series of rooms. The lower portion contained five levels of dorms, one of which housed the two youngest members of his pack and the oldest, Trogh, who was in charge of their training. Above those sat a sprawling area known as the Room of History.
Naturally forming holes within the trunk of the tree acted as windows, allowing for airflow and permitting the light from the sun to brighten the interior. Before he’d become Alpha, Zaheer had spent many of his early mornings in the Room of History marveling over the written accounts of bravery and sacrifice from the guardians who’d come before him. Those stories woke something within him and fed his desire to be more.
At the very top of the tree, just below the crown, sat the temple. There were larger holes here, circling the place of worship so that the sun lit up every part of it. Outside the largest of these grew an ancient jivah bloom. Its surface was flat and weathered from generations of priests, guardians, and worshippers alike stepping onto it as they passed into the interior. Nicknamed Hand of Vaasna, the jivah was possibly the most well cared for and cherished bloom in the entire forest.
The lower branches that made up the crown curved, creating a swirling pattern as they dipped down toward the temple, almost as if they were trying to protect whatever, or whoever, resided within. Zaheer remembered the stories of how it was the will of the goddess Vaasna that branches bent. For the first time in his life, Zaheer looked up at the twisted, ancient branches and where he’d once seen beauty and peace, he saw a prison that he might never be able to escape.
A shadow moved over him as he reached the top of the jivah bloom and he accepted the grey hand that reached out toward him.
Pumo, the High Priest, smiled. “Zaheer, you’ve returned. It was brought to my attention that you sought me out last night and I was unavailable and by that time you were already off again.” The older male patted him on the back, urging him forward. “Let us start with a cleansing and then you can tell me what it was you wished to speak with me about.”
A cleansing? Was it already time for another one? Zaheer didn’t miss the flicking of Pumo’s tails beneath the sheer robes he wore. Suspicion curled in his belly. Something wasn’t right here, but he was going to give himself away just yet. Zaheer didn’t want to waste time on a cleansing, but if he declined the invitation, Pumo would know something was amiss.
We do not need the cleansing, his guardian protested, pushing through the mental restraints. We are bound only to our tsa.
What is tsa? His guardian went silent, and Zaheer nearly growled aloud in frustration. You’re incredibly unhelpful.
Although he was inclined to disagree with his beast when it came to matters concerning the alien female, Zaheer didn’t want this cleansing either. Still, he allowed Pumo to guide him toward the pool of shimmering water in the center of the temple. Light from the arched windows filled every space and gleamed off of the surface of the pool as they approached. It created an ethereal glow that never failed to stun him. Today was no different.
Our tsa would find this beautiful, his guardian murmured.
Despite his resistance to the bond his guardian had formed with the alien female, Zaheer found himself imagining her here, picturing the sunlight dancing over the rich red and orange strands of her hair and warming her pale skin.
“Zaheer.”
Pumo’s voice cut into his thoughts, shredding them like a blade through webbing. The high priest stood in the center of the pool, all four of his arms spread wide as his calculating dark eyes focused on Zaheer. When had he moved?
The dark blue and orange stripes stood in contrast to his gray body. The orange hair on his head and tuft had lightened considerably over the last few rotations, and he watched as Pumo tossed the strands over his shoulders. “There is something on your mind. Come, the cleansing will ease your worries.”
Doing his best to set aside his unease, Zaheer waded into the water as he had done many times before. This ritual was routine, normally occurring once every moon cycle, but there were many devout worshipers who came more frequently. “Has Tratek been to see you?”
Pumo’s head tilted ever so slightly. “Tratek? He has not come to me since he departed on his mission, and I do not expect him to return for some time.”
“I am his Alpha. Why was I not informed of the mission he was sent on?” The cool water swirled around his torso as he moved farther in.
The air around Pumo changed, growing heavy for only a moment, before he seemed to pull himself back. One of his hands strayed to his chest where a web pendant hung. The metal it was crafted from shimmered in the light as he moved. “You were out on your own mission, Zaheer. I did not see the sense of waiting for you to return before sending him out. You may be their Alpha, but I am your High Priest.”
The message was clear. Pumo saw himself as the ultimate authority, but pack law didn’t work that way. Tratek would have never left without contacting Zaheer, but he kept his mouth shut and inclined his head. “Of course. I’m merely worried about him.”
“Do you doubt his abilities, Alpha?”
He’s baiting you, his guardian growled.
“No, I do not doubt him, but my bond with him feels strained, as if something is interfering with it. It’s fading.”
Pumo’s chuckle filled the air, echoing through the empty temple. “Pay that no mind. His mission took him far from here. Strain on the bond at such a distance is normal.” The high priest smiled, the corners of his lips parting just enough to reveal a flash of fang. It was the only outward sign of the annoyance Zaheer could feel brimming below the surface. “The bond will right itself when he returns.”
Zaheer stopped a short distance away from the High Priest before crouching down and submerging himself beneath the surface of the water. All of the sounds of the world faded away here, and Zaheer closed his eyes. It was said that the water in this pool was created from the tears of the god Kheenqiets and that they had gathered within the natural dip formed in the floor.
This was supposed to purify his body and mind,
but his thoughts strayed to the speckled alien female he’d left behind at the outpost. The floor of the pool was smooth from generations of use, and Zaheer pushed off of it, swimming toward the edge where a lip had formed before lifting himself out of the water into a seated position. As Pumo approached, Zaheer’s spine straightened to the point of pain and he stared directly into the older male’s eyes, refusing to be intimidated.
Pumo’s tails wrapped around either side of his hips, meeting at his front. Despite the fact that he’d done this many times, and always of his own accord, Zaheer and his guardian balked at the idea, but he was alpha. The pack and their safety were his responsibilities, and if Pumo knew his loyalty was in question, he wasn’t sure what that would mean for them.
Extending his upper left arm, Zaheer allowed the High Priest to weave his web, wrapping it around his wrist. The threads began to heat as Pumo directed him to speak the ritualistic words:
“I am of Vaasna,
Pure and true of heart.
I am of Kheenqiets,
Strong and loving.
I am guided by their spirit.
I am rooted by honor.
I am bound by my vows.”
There was something about the gleam in Pumo’s eyes that polluted the words and made the entire thing feel sinister. He felt a strange tug along the bond between himself and his guardian and the beast gnashed his teeth, hissing in protest. It was a feeling unlike anything he’d ever felt during the ritual, like Pumo’s bond was nudging them away from something.
Tsa.
Schooling his features, Zaheer got to his feet and inclined his head. “Thank you for the cleansing and the information about Tratek. I look forward to his return.”
“You are leaving so soon?” Pumo asked, resting his upper arms on the ledge.
“I am joining the patrols. The outsiders may decide to return in greater numbers, and I don’t wish to be caught off-guard.”
Pumo’s expression hardened. “Well, I do hope this is a lesson for you, young alpha. Outsiders have no place in our world, and we do them a kindness by sending them to their creator. Next time, I am sure you will not hesitate.” The words sliced through the space between them with such force that Zaheer could almost believe he felt the air shift.
“I will not fail, High Priest.” His mouth filled with bitter acid as he tried to tamp down all of the things he wished to say. Now was not the time. He needed to gather his thoughts and dig deeper for the truth. As he stepped out onto the Hand of Vaasna, Zaheer looked out across the forest, his eyes landing on the network of trees that made up the village he’d been born in. Was he somehow betraying his people by allowing this bond with the alien to grow? Was he putting the outsider before them?
With a heavy sigh, Zaheer ripped Pumo’s web from his wrist, not caring that he was breaking yet another rule by not leaving it on to strengthen the bond. The relief was immediate, and when he opened his hand to release the threads, Zaheer watched as they drifted slowly to the ground before beginning his descent.
He needed to get back to the outpost and see the female again.
Chapter 6
Pumo
There was a sharp tug against his mind a moment before he felt the newly formed threads snap. The young alpha had removed his blessing the moment he stepped outside of the temple, discarding it as if it were nothing more than waste. It was clear to Pumo that even though he’d had a hand in raising each and every one of the guardians in this pack, not all of them had turned out like he’d hoped they would. Zaheer had always been an obedient and natural leader. It’s what made him the best candidate out of all the members for Alpha.
Perhaps Pumo had been too easy on this generation of guardians. Had Zaheer simply forgotten the significance of the blessing? Had he forgotten that without the bond between them, the beast that resided within the Alpha’s body could rebel? The last time, it had resulted in a massacre that still pained Pumo to think about. So many lives had been lost. So much unnecessary death.
Pumo shook his head as he stepped out of the pool, letting the water drip from his fur and the robes that clung to him. The people of the Oparian tribe needed his protection from the beasts, and he’d done his best to keep them safe for so long already.
The thought alone of having to rein the pack in was exhausting, but it might be what was necessary in order to avoid reliving the nightmares of the past. Already, the guardians lived away from the tribe, separated from those who had once been their families. It was best for the Oparian people and best for the pups who now shared their bodies with these other beings. The moment they changed, those pups were no longer the same ones their parents had brought into his temple.
It seemed now, with the Alpha acting as strange as he was, that Pumo might once more be forced to make difficult decisions for the good of the people. So be it, he thought as he made his way out of the open-air temple. Wind rushed over him, drying his dripping fur as he turned the corner, going deeper into the tree. Back here, away from the large windows, shadows climbed high up the walls and everything was quiet. He reached up to brush his fingers over the pendant that bounced against his chest as he moved, tracing the familiar lines and dips.
Another turn down one of the darkest halls brought him to the membrane that shielded the Room of History. He stepped inside the large, open space, and as with every other time, Pumo stopped to admire the sight. Shelves of bound books, journals, and historical scrolls covered every wall, reaching nearly three times his own height. In the center of it all, atop an ornately carved table, sat a large book, bound in the finest leather. It was even older than he was and contained the names of each and every Krunkeeli ever born within the tribe.
Pumo touched the pages reverently, smoothing the tip of his finger down the side as he scanned the names written in careful, perfect symbols until he reached the one he sought. Some thirty rotations had passed since he’d written the entry.
Zaheer - Born to Elkois and his mate, Nizla.
He gazed at all of the other names that filled the page and sighed. Each life was precious and deserving of protection.
“High Priest!” One of the males who served as caretaker turned from his work near the top of the shelves. His feet were planted firmly in the notches they used for climbing up and down to retrieve texts. “To what do we owe this honor?”
“Bring me my journals.”
“Your—your journals?” The male nearly lost his footing, clutching at the side of the shelving as he quickly climbed, moving from one row to another until he reached the hidden cove Pumo had created long ago. “Is everything all right?”
No, he thought as he stared down at the Alpha’s birth entry, but he would do anything in his power to make it that way again. If there was one thing Pumo hated, it was a mess, and it looked as if this one couldn’t be avoided.
“Do not trouble yourself over it,” he said with a forced, but pleasant smile. “Everything will be as it should soon enough.”
Chapter 7
Zaheer
By the time he reached the outpost, Zaheer’s mind was in a state of chaos. Even the initial strain on his muscles from the climb up the outpost tree did little to ease the turmoil within him. His guardian was on edge, pacing back and forth. They’d been away from the female too long, and the beast was making his displeasure known. Distance was clearly not an option.
The cleansing should have eased some of this anxiety, but it seemed as if it had done quite the opposite. All it had accomplished was to wash away her scent, and it left him and his guardian with a sense of loss so powerful that it manifested into a physical ache. He needed to see her, to gather her up in his arms and reabsorb her scent. There was no room in his mind to question the hold she had over both of them. Whether it was some protective instinct triggered by her obvious lack of defenses or something far more primal, Zaheer couldn’t find the will to care.
His tails flicked as he dropped onto the narrow ledge that served as a landing. Within his head, his beast
stilled, anticipation thrumming through them both. Would she be waiting for them? Had she missed them? Why did he care?
Enough stalling, his guardian growled.
He couldn’t control the smile that tugged at his lips at the impatience he heard in the beast’s tone. Stepping forward, Zaheer felt the membrane giveaway, allowing him entrance into the main room of the outpost. All eight of his eyes scanned the small space for the female, but when they found her, his mind went momentarily blank, unable to process exactly what he was seeing.
The lapse in brain function hadn’t affected his guardian. The beast took advantage of him, commanding his body to shift as he leapt forward. His bones popped and his muscles tore, and as he moved through the air, eyes fixed on the male whose face was pressed into his female’s neck, a roar was ripped from his chest.
Mine! He would dare!
Maylu’s gaze swung toward him, and the darker male flung himself back just as Zaheer’s guardian pounced, barely escaping the swipe of a powerful paw. He heard the female’s gasp as she fell to the floor, unbalanced by his clumsy attack, and moved to shield her with his body. His guardian’s lip curled into a snarl, and his stinger-tipped tail arched overhead, posed to strike.
“Alpha?” Maylu’s voice was colored with uncertainty, and his cautious black eyes searched Zaheer’s face before he glanced back down at their tsa.
“Do not look at her!” Zaheer roared, echoing his guardian’s command and crouching down so that she was trapped beneath his belly.
The other male stumbled away, skirting around them in an attempt to stay clear of the guardian’s tail. “I meant the outsider no harm, Alpha,” he said, his palms out and his head lowered in submission as his dark tuft flattened.
