by Pearl Foxx
The words were a lie, of course. After the last few days with Rayner, she didn’t know if she could just leave. The other women had families to return to, but Vera had nothing aside from her job. But even as she thought about staying, she hated herself for it. Rayner might be a good man, but she was still his servant. She had no freedom here on Kladuu.
“Okay.” Rebeka nodded. She gripped Vera’s hand and squeezed. “Please, Vera. You can find a way to get us out of here. Don’t let us down.”
“I promise,” she said for the countless time. How many more times would she have to say it for the words to not feel like a betrayal?
When she returned to Rayner’s small house, she paused and looked back at the massive hollowed mountain behind her. Such a feat of engineering, and yet everything around felt natural. Basic. Pure. The Vilkas had done such a tremendous job of keeping things natural, she half expected to see a sunset. She had to struggle to remember the price of this artificially natural setting came only by the sweat of servants.
Rayner may have thought much had changed since the time when his mother was a slave, but Vera knew differently.
Her heart ached for him. She knew his intentions were good. But from his position as Beta that was so high above everyone else, he hadn’t seen clearly what was happening amongst the lowest class of the clan. He hadn’t felt the derision and electric tension coursing through the tunnels like Vera had. He hadn’t seen the servants’ faces after a higher-ranked clan member disrespected them. He hadn’t heard the murmurs of discontent.
The servants stood upon a precipice of change, and it wouldn’t take but a tiny nudge to push them over the edge.
With an uneasy feeling, she entered the house, expecting to find Rayner working at his desk or maybe even standing there waiting for her, but the room was empty.
“Rayner?” she called, moving into the bedroom, which was also empty. The soft pillows on the bed looked intensely inviting, but for all Vera knew, the other women were shivering on bare cots each night.
She squeezed her eyes shut. What was wrong with her? How could she have so easily forgotten the plight of her fellow captives because of a few placating words from a man she barely knew?
With Rayner gone, she had an opportunity to get a good look around just as she’d promised Rebeka she would. He was a man of power, and Vera was in a position to use that. She needed every advantage she could get. She’d already tried to access the netscreen on his desk the first day she was in his house, but she’d found out it only unlocked at Rayner’s touch. She’d poked through most of his things, but now she went at it with a critical eye.
She sat in his high-backed leather chair and, with shaking hands, opened the main drawer. The drawer smelled fresh, like wood resin and perhaps a hint of ozone. She riffled gently through Rayner’s pens and papers. Methodically, she worked her way through all the drawers, finding boring memorandums on clan policy, a training schedule at the arena, a map of an agricultural layout, and some personal correspondence. She felt bad about reading his letters, but curious as well, and found herself unaccountably relieved there were no love letters among the notes.
After she’d flipped through what felt like an entire library of useless papers, she leaned back in the chair with frustration. How could he have nothing at all here of a serious nature? He was second in command. He had to have some official paperwork lying around.
She scoured her gaze over the walls, trying to imagine where he would keep a hidden wall safe in a home made of stone. Rising, she went and checked his shelves, pulling all his clothing out and running her hands along the compartments before replacing the folded fabric. Nothing. She went back to the bedroom and checked the furniture there. A bedside table held two hard-bound books and a pair of reading glasses. Cute. But no official documents. What had happened to the strange missive telling him about the Omega Selection?
Going back to the desk, she opened the main drawer again. Among the papers, she spotted the strange light he’d used to read the Alpha’s letter about the Omega Selection. Rolling it around in her fingers, she discovered how to turn it on and played it across the topmost layer of papers.
She gasped.
Glowing white writing was scrawled across the top of the agricultural schematic. Breath held tightly in her chest, she scanned the light over the page. What had been labeled as crops and irrigation lines became buildings and tunnels, distances and personnel. There was the kitchen, the laundry, and the lowest cells of the mountain.
She traced a finger along the tunnels, following one that seemed to lead straight out of the mountain’s lower peaks. It ended at an area labeled Southeastern Combat Pad. Dates had been marked beneath the label, along with an update on the reconstruction. From the notes, it appeared that the area wasn’t in use, but being rebuilt after an attack of some sort. Labeled in the upper corner of the pad’s area, Vera could just make out two tiny words.
Combat Pods.
“What do you know?” Vera mumbled.
Combat pods had to be ships. Probably small ones if Vilkan “pods” were like the ones humans used to transport materials and passengers between the space station and cargo shuttles. The map didn’t specify how many pods were on the pad, but the Earthen pods could carry two people comfortably, four people in a pinch. There had to be at least two pods at this location; otherwise, the map would be labeled combat pod, right? But she couldn’t count on there being enough pods to carry all twenty women. Not to mention Rebeka was the only pilot in the group.
That meant only a few of them could get home. They’d have to bring back reinforcements to save the others. It also meant Vera had a reason to stay that wasn’t a blatant betrayal of the women or Rayner. She would remain to watch the others until Rebeka sent back help.
She knew Rayner felt strongly about keeping Kladuu a secret from the humans, but if they just returned to secure the women and left, what was the harm? He thought Gideon’s fleet raided planets and left them in ruin, but that wasn’t the case. If the Kladians didn’t want to barter their resources, the humans would leave with just the women.
But if she were to split up their group, it meant their plan had to be executed perfectly. No one could know Vera was involved in the women’s escape, or else she’d be exiled before she could help the others. They’d only have one shot at this. The consequences for getting caught would be certain death.
Adrenalin flooded her bloodstream as she traced the route to the pods, memorizing every corridor, ever descent, every turn.
She had a week to prepare herself and the women before the Omega Selection. She would need every second.
14
Rayner
“Should we eat something before we go?” Vera asked.
She’d been acting strange all day in the hours leading up to the Omega Selection. Rayner smelled her nerves but chalked it up to what they were about to witness. After two weeks of living with her, he thought he was beginning to understand how to decode her expressions.
“Trust me, you won’t want to have anything in your stomach for this. You’re sure you want to watch?” he asked, double-checking for the countless time that evening.
Vera nodded tightly. “Let’s get this over with.”
They reached the great amphitheater that had been built into the northern wall, the view into the pit blocked by the large slabs of stone surrounding the perimeter. Rayner escorted Vera to the main gate, curious to see her reaction to this piece of architecture. The shaped rock looked almost natural, yet it provided acoustics without the need for artificial technology. Stopping just inside, he allowed her a moment to look down to the huge oval dirt floor. The terraced stone seats were filling fast, and the crowd jockeyed for positions.
At her gasp, he smiled. She pressed herself closer to him, looking around. “How many people can this place hold?”
“Well over a thousand.” A swarm of clan members crowded in and pushed toward the front in an effort to find the best seats for the main event.
It was completely unnecessary as the design guaranteed anyone there would be able to see and hear everything, but the excitement overwhelmed logic, and the crowd continued pushing for positions.
Rayner led her to a boxed-in area to the left where he’d arranged for a handful of trusted guards to keep the human women safe. He’d insisted on extra security during the week of planning prior to the event, knowing an Omega Selection was bound to cause emotions to run high.
Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pulled her close and bent to speak in her ear. “I’ll meet you here when the ceremony is over, all right?”
He’d already explained to her how he couldn’t stand with her during the ceremony. His duty as Beta dictated his presence be with Kaveh and the royal family.
At that moment, Niva spotted them and squealed. She ran over to throw her arms around Vera’s neck. “You’re here!”
As Vera disentangled herself from the enthusiastic young female, who looked happy and well-kept in her long dress, she met Rayner’s eyes. He gave her a slight smile before nodding to the young guard standing watch. The other women arrived, huddling around Vera—their leader. Knowing when he was outnumbered, Rayner left the boxed area and made his way to the Alpha’s viewing platform near the bottom row of the pit.
Gerrit and Nestan waited there, dressed in formal white like himself, with added gold and crimson embroidered necklines and hems distinguishing them as high-ranking royals. Caj, Gerrit’s younger brother by a couple years, stood at the platform’s rail, leaning over to stare at the gated entrance where the prisoners would enter. Gerrit spoke quietly to Nestan, who sat stiffly, staring down at the arena.
The heir met Rayner’s gaze as he entered the platform, eyes tightening slightly in greeting, and returned his full attention to his half-cousin. As Savas’s son, this had to be hardest on Nestan, and Rayner’s heart went out to the young man.
Before Rayner could approach the conversation, Kaveh entered the platform from the small door set into the stone benches behind the platform. The old Alpha stood tall despite his moon madness, his royal attire widely decorated in curls and spirals of crimson and gold. The moment the crowd spotted their Alpha, they began to howl and stamp their feet. The very stone of the mountain seemed to tremble with their fervor. Kaveh’s gaze settled briefly on Rayner, then slid away without a word of greeting.
In the week leading up to the Omega Selection, an icy distance had fallen between Kaveh and Rayner. He couldn’t blame his Alpha; Rayner had counseled for Savas’s death.
Taking a deep breath against the guilt, Rayner hurried to a spot at the right of the platform, just behind Gerrit and Nestan, where he had a direct line of sight up to the secure area where Vera and the others sat.
Kaveh raised his arms, and the dull roar filling the amphitheater tapered to a low buzz. His voice carried easily from the platform to the farthest seats. “My fellow Vilkas!”
Rayner squinted toward the humans, unable to distinguish Vera from the others. His chest had a hollow ache, and he yearned to have her at his side. Yearned for her grounding presence, especially now when the clan was about to regress to one of its more primitive rituals.
“As your Alpha,” Kaveh continued, “there are many duties which fall to me. Most are a privilege, and I count it a blessing to be called upon to lead this illustrious clan. But at times, there are matters so grave that there is no solution other than the old ways. Ways that make us more animal than man.”
A rumbling growl rose and fell through the theater.
“We are a progressive people, seeking fairness and justice for all who live within our walls. We do not begin wars, but we have no qualms about ending them with a decisive and unquestionable victory. In that same vein, we must deal with internal strife. With criminals who threaten our existence by flaunting our most base nature. Who give us no choice but to mete out this ancient, savage justice.”
Kaveh raised his hands and the crowd’s voice swelled, howls and drumming shaking the stone beneath Rayner’s feet. The Alpha certainly understood how to command a crowd. But Rayner knew his Alpha well and could see the nearly microscopic twitching of the flesh around his eyes and the way he planted his feet a little too wide. It was taking everything Kaveh had to keep himself together. He was easing into the final stages of his moon madness.
The Alpha lowered his arms in the signal to begin, and the noisy crowd grew silent on a breath. It was time.
Savas stumbled into the dusty basin with his hands tightly cuffed. A heavy collar hung from his neck, its inward-pointing spikes drawing pinpricks of blood that trickled down the man’s naked chest and shoulders. On the left, Drausus was presented in the same manner, his sharp nose bent at an odd angle, his lips and chin coated with a bloody crimson gleam. He too wore a collar that would prevent him from shifting into his Vilkan form.
Even from his seat on the platform, Rayner detected the stink of fear drifting off both men. Sweat prickled his skin. Had he made the right choice in recommending the Omega Selection? He darted a glance up toward the small cluster of humans, reminding himself of what Drausus had done. How Savas had ruined these women’s lives. This was the only way to stop men like that.
As if he’d read Rayner’s mind, Savas lifted his chin directly toward the Beta, face contorted by a savage snarl, and his body rippled and stretched. The shift was halted almost before it began by the prongs of the collar, causing the Alpha’s half-brother to howl in pain.
Nestan winced, but the young Vilka with a drop of royal blood did not turn away as the crowd erupted again, banging and shouting. Hooting and cajoling. Crying for blood. Rayner had expected their bloodlust, but their fervor for the ceremony to begin exceeded even his careful predictions.
Kaveh motioned for silence. “The Omega Selection is one we do not take lightly. Our system is arcane, as old as any of us remember, older than when the great Avilku broke out of his animal form and found himself standing on two legs. It is a necessary and just punishment for the crimes these men have committed against me, against their brothers and sisters in the clan, and against the human women amongst us.”
At the last crime, a murmur went through the crowd. More than a few heads turned and stared straight at the guarded area. The rising murmurs were not sympathetic. Some even jeered. Rayner made note of those he recognized. All of them were Savas’s loyalists. He’d look into them later.
“Drausus,” Kaveh boomed, “you are charged with the crimes of treason against your Alpha, insubordination against your Beta, theft of military property, and the assault of a clan-protected servant. It is with my full authority that I decree you will fight in the Omega Selection.”
Drausus lunged against his bindings, bloody spittle dripping from his lips. Rayner ground his teeth, glaring down at the unrepentant man in the arena.
Kaveh swung his gaze to the right, his shoulders stiff as he confronted his half-brother. “Savas, you are charged with the crimes of high treason against your Alpha, leading a mutiny and insurrection against your Beta, theft and destruction of military property, abduction, and the intent to engage in the illegal practice of the flesh trade.” The leader’s voice developed a brittleness Rayner hoped no one else could hear. “Despite my love for you, I cannot overlook these crimes. Your insolence has gone too far. It is with my full authority that I decree you will fight in the Omega Selection.”
Savas stood unmoving, his eyes distant, which Rayner found far more unsettling than Drausus’s rage and bluster. As guards approached the prisoners to remove their cuffs but not their collars, as fighting in their human forms was another form of degradation, Rayner scanned the crowd, distressed at the level of excitement he saw among his clan.
The fever for death rolled through the shifters, their cries and howls a wild cacophony of noise. A couple of scuffles broke out among the benches, and Rayner once again checked on the humans huddling in the higher levels. His guards had instructions to move the women to safety should rioting erupt.
Kaveh sat
heavily, his back unnaturally straight as he faced the arena. Under normal circumstances, Rayner would have gone to his Alpha and provided the solidity of a Beta’s presence, but he didn’t think Kaveh was in the mood for his company. Young Nestan also sat with rigid and forced attention, his normally jovial face pale and lined. If only the rest of the crowd would take this ceremony as seriously.
In the ring, Savas and Drausus circled each other. Snarling, Drausus batted a hand at Savas, the meaty sound of flesh on flesh reverberating throughout the space. Rayner knew from their many sparring matches that Drausus didn’t have the temperament for a long-game strategy. He was impulsive, with little forethought given to his movements. As the men circled and swiped, Drausus kept opening his guard to lunge at Savas.
Savas, predictably, remained patient, conserving his energy and stepping away only far enough to avoid the brunt of each attack.
Rayner dissected the moves as a means to escape the horrible reality of a fight to the death. Assessing the flaws and strengths of each man, each move, as if he could call it off the moment the fight got out of hand.
Then Drausus struck too far left. Savas stepped into the move, swiping a foot under his opponent and knocking him back. Drausus shuddered and rippled, signaling he was about to turn.
Savas had been awaiting this moment. He’d just needed a moment for Drausus to be preoccupied. Savas’s hands partially shifted, his nails stretching into long, black claws. He leaped onto Drausus and dug his claws deep into his ribcage.
A yowl of pain cut through the air. The stadium exploded with fevered shouts and Vilkan howling as if the crowd had joined the combatants in a partial shift. The tiers of seating roiled and swayed with jostling viewers, thickening the air with sweat and frothy excitement that made Rayner’s stomach churn. This had not been his intent when recommending the Omega Selection. He’d wanted his clan to see the folly of the old ways. To experience the horror of an uncontrolled, hungry animal waiting within each of them. Instead, they seemed to revel in the violence.
