The Ravager Chronicles: The Complete Series

by Sara Page

  The guards and my mates progress up the ramp. An attacker jumps up, following after them and I get my first look at what distinguishes them from us.

  I get a close look at his face.

  The attacker is knocked back and another jumps up to take his place. I can’t help but notice his eyes are the same.

  They’re all the same.

  Peering out into the sea of Ravagers I finally see it. Instead of a sea of red stars glowing back at me they’ve all gone dark.

  Every single one of the attacking Ravagers has eyes of black.

  “No,” I gasp in horror, squeezing the girls tightly in my arms.

  The girls cry out, startled by my reaction, and the attacker’s attention turns to us.

  His lips spread into a feral grin.

  Before he’s knocked back on his ass, he looks into my face and bellows out, “Mine!”

  The word seems to echo, repeating a thousand times.

  The attacker is shoved off and I peer out into the crowd, not wanting to believe my own eyes.

  Hundreds of dull black eyes stare back at me, and they roar, “Mine.”

  Chapter Twelve

  This is not a dream. This is really happening.

  Gentle, protective hands wrap around my arms, pulling me back. The ramp of the Siren retracts, and the ship begins to lift.

  But below us, raging and roaring in frustration, are dozens of Ravagers with eyes full of darkness.

  Mine, they roar inside my head.

  “Let’s get you inside,” Celeste says softly and I’m walking though I can’t feel my feet. We’re moving but I don’t know where we’re going. Everything is a blur. Time skips by in flashes.

  The girls wiggle and twist in my arms, and as someone helps me sit, I pull down my blouse, automatically offering them my breasts.

  My mind buzzes as I try to process all of this.

  “Ameia?”

  “Yes?” I answer automatically before my eyes come back into focus.

  Did I cause this? Do they want me? Do they want the girls? Do they want the three of us?

  I blink, taking in the room around me. The walls are gray, spaceship gray, and the décor is just as bland. Warrick is sitting, hunched over, on the floor with Vis standing beside him. Striker is leaning against the wall beside the door, and three guards are helping Beast walk.

  “Beast,” I gasp.

  His face is a mess. His nose must have been broken and dried blood coats his chin. His eyes are darkened and so swollen I don’t think he can see out of them.

  “I’m fine, my princess,” he grunts.

  I shake my head, tears brimming my eyes. He’s hurt and I hurt for him.

  “He’ll be as good as new in a couple of hours,” Grogan reassures me stepping inside from the hallway. “He’s up first in the Medibay.”

  “Please don’t cry, Ameia,” Beast gruffly pleads.

  “I’m sorry,” I apologize as the tears slip down my cheeks. “I can’t help it.”

  Beast grunts. “It’s mostly cosmetic. I’ve been through worse.”

  I know he’s trying to cheer me up but I’m feeling extremely emotional right now. Knowing that he’s been through worse just makes me cry harder.

  “Ameia,” Beast rumbles and turns to me as if he’s going to walk to me.

  I’d get up and go to him but both the girls are in my arms and I can’t bear to let them go right now.

  Striker pushes away from the wall and strides over to me instead. Hunching down next to my chair, he wraps his arm around my shoulders. Vis stands as well, walking over to me to stand by my other side, protectively flanking me between them. Comforting me with their presence.

  “I’ll be back soon,” Beast says, his voice strained with pain though he seems hesitant to leave. Lingering in the doorway, the guards keeping him upright try to nudge him out the door but he resists. “Are you injured, my princess?”

  “No,” I choke out and then clear my throat. Seriously, he’s the one who’s been beaten, almost broken, yet he’s worried about me. It must be killing him to stand there, worried about me. I hate the idea of him suffering on my account.

  “I’m fine, and the girls are fine. We made it out without a scratch.” I reassure him, getting a grip on my emotions. Deep breath in... and I let it out. “Go. I’ll be here, waiting for you.”

  Beast is looking towards me but is he looking at me? It’s impossible to tell. It’s a long moment before he slowly, painfully nods his head. “I’ll be back.”

  I offer him a watery smile. “I love you and I’m counting on it.”

  “I love you too,” he grunts and if he wasn’t surrounded by people trying to push him out the door I’d stand and go to him. I’d wrap my arms around him and help him walk myself. I’d take care of him.

  I swear when he’s healed he’s getting the strongest hug I’ve ever given.

  Reluctantly, Beast is led away and as soon as the door slides shut behind him I start crying again.

  This sadness is like a poison; I just need to get it out.

  In my arms, Esha and Ellany are peacefully sleeping. They must be exhausted after all their wailing. The quiet shuddering of my body doesn’t disturb them.

  “Ameia,” Warrick rumbles from the floor unhappily. He looks exhausted and one of his horns is crooked. Glancing over to Vis and Striker, they too look like they’ve taken a few good licks.

  We may have been beaten but at least we’re still standing, right?

  Taking a deep breath, I try to get myself under control. I know I’m only causing Vis, Striker and Warrick distress with my emotions.

  I’ve had my cry, now we need to figure this crap out.

  “What’s going on?” I ask and turn my head to wipe my face on arm. “What are we going to do?”

  “We’re going to heal up, lick our wounds, and figure out the next step,” Striker says with confidence.

  The strength in his voice bolsters me. Focusing on the future, on a solution for our current situation, helps bring me out of the thick despair that’s muddling up my head.

  Warrick stares at my face for a long second then tips his head back and closes his eyes again.

  “Can we return to Blackspire?” I ask.

  Striker shakes his head. “No, unfortunately Blackspire is lost to us.”

  “How? How did this happen?”

  “My father,” Striker growls and Vis bristles beside me. “Prince Drek was mistaken. He’s not dead… yet.”

  “What do you mean yet?” I scowl at Striker as his eyes flare and narrow to menacing slits.

  Rising beside me, Striker’s hands clench into fists. “I’m going to kill him, Ameia. I’ll put an end to all of this. It’s something I should have done long ago… for my mother.”

  “How?” I peer up at him. “Do you have a plan?”

  Striker scowls and then sharply shakes his head. “No, not yet. But he’s successfully driven us off of Blackspire. It’s only a matter of time before he makes his next move.”

  “Then what?”

  “We’ll be ready.”

  Warrick rumbles from the floor in agreement. Vis remains silent, not offering his opinion.

  I want to have faith in Striker, I want to believe he’s ready to take on his father, ready to put an end to this. But…

  “What do you think he’ll do next?” I ask, my voice shrinking with worry as I lean back in my chair, hugging the girls closer to my chest.

  How do I protect them? How do I keep them safe? They’re so small, so helpless. So damn vulnerable.

  Am I strong enough to take care of them?

  “Knowing him, he’ll try to strike at us when we least expect it.”

  “But you’ll be expecting it?”

  Striker nods his head and smirks at me. “Yes.”

  I don’t want to shake Striker’s confidence or make him think I don’t believe in him, because I do… there’s just something inside of me telling me it won’t be that easy. That no matter how prepared we
are, how ready we are for whatever he’s going to throw at us, going up against the Devourer will be no easy feat.

  I almost lost Beast… It makes me sick to think of it. We were almost overrun. There was way more of them than there were of us. We’re lucky we made it off the planet at all.

  “All those Ravagers on Blackspire? What happened to them? Why were they like that?”

  “My father was possessing them somehow, tapping into their darkness.”

  “Could he possess you? Or the crew of the ship?”

  Striker shakes his head. “No. I believe he can only affect those who haven’t been accepted by their Calling.”

  “But not everyone on the ship has been accepted…” I point out.

  Striker’s brows furrow and he glances towards Vis. “Did you not accept him?”

  Vis stiffens beside me and glares back.

  “I did. He’s mine,” I say firmly. “But what about Grogan? He’s unmated.”

  Striker smirks. “Is he?”

  “I thought Ellany was his Calling,” I frown at him.

  Striker nods his head. “I do believe she is.”

  “But how? She’s only a baby, she can’t accept him yet?”

  “She can’t, not in that way,” Striker agrees. “But so far he seems to be unaffected. However, we will keep a close eye on him, regardless. I’d isolate him, but he’s the only chief medical officer we have onboard.”

  I look down at Ellany, so beautiful, so peaceful in her sleep. Both she and Esha are completely oblivious to the danger they’re in. Then I look up to see Warrick, Vis and Striker all gazing at the girls, their faces open with unmasked love and affection.

  I kind of feel sorry for Grogan. He’s going to have not one but four over protective fathers breathing down his neck.

  Shaking my head, I sigh and look back to Striker. “So there are no other unmated males on the ship?”

  Striker frowns. “I don’t know. I’ll have to confirm that.”

  I nod my head, trusting that he’ll see to that.

  With no more pressing questions to ask, the room falls into silence. Warrick’s head tips back, his eyes closed as he leans against the wall. His horn seems to lean more to the side than it did a minute ago. I worry about it.

  Vis is stiff beside me, just radiating tension.

  Striker stares at me, his eyes drinking me in as if he’s burning my image into his memory.

  “Ameia,” he says softly, sounding tortured.

  Bending down, he grabs my face with both of his hands and kisses me passionately on the lips, being careful not to get the girls with his elbows.

  “I love you,” I murmur into his kiss. I know I don’t say it enough, and with everything going on I want to make sure they know it.

  “I love you too,” he sighs, pulling back.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask as he stares at me, his eyes full of confliction.

  “I have to go, there are things I must see to, but I don’t want to leave you.”

  I don’t want him to leave either but I smile at him and assure him. “We’ll be all right.”

  I’m so unsettled by the events of the past few hours, if there are things he needs to see to, I want him to take care of them. I don’t want any aspect of our safety or security left up to chance.

  His father, the Devourer, could strike at us at any moment and I want to be prepared. I know he’s capable of pulling the very ship we’re riding in to the Other Side, like he did with the Harpy’s Talon.

  As it is, I feel like we’re just sitting ducks. Flying away from the one place in the entire universe where he couldn’t reach us.

  “Are you sure?” he asks, his eyes searching my face. There’s something being left unsaid though I’m not quite sure what it is.

  I look pointedly to Vis then Warrick. “Yes. We’re in safe hands.”

  Striker opens his mouth and from the look on his face I almost expect him to disagree with me but then he thins his lips. Eyes flicking to Vis, he straightens away from me.

  “You’re sure?” He asks again as if he didn’t believe me the first time.

  “Yes, of course.”

  With a scowl, he nods his head. “Very well. I’m going to perform my checks but I’ll be back soon. If you need anything, the communication system works just like the one on the Harpy. Call and I’ll come running.”

  “I doubt that will be necessary,” I say, forcing a smile to my lips.

  What’s gotten into him? Why is he so distrustful all of a sudden?

  As he continues to linger, I push. “Go on, leave now so you can hurry back.”

  I hate being separated. Things always go to shit when it happens. Always. We need to be together if we’re going to get through this.

  With one last lingering look, Striker straightens his shoulders and nods his head. Striding out of the room, he pauses in the hallway to look back as the door shuts.

  But he’s not looking at me.

  Even after everything that just happened, he’s looking at Vis with suspicion.

  With a sigh, I shake my head. You’d think after fighting side by side, they’d trust each other more than this.

  The door shuts behind Striker. I release my breath in a long, low hiss.

  “Ameia,” Vis says as he bends over the chair. “Would you like me to hold the girls for you so you can get some rest?”

  Head tipping back, I smile up at him. “No, thank you. I’d like to hold them a little bit longer.”

  Vis nods his head and straightens away from the chair. I hope I haven’t hurt his feelings but I just can’t let them go yet. Even if my arms were falling off, I couldn’t put them down right now. If anything I want to hold them tighter, for longer.

  I may never let them go again.

  With Vis standing silently beside me, Warrick’s soft, even breathing is the only sound in the room.

  The peaceful quiet is so comfortable I’m loathe to break it but then all my worries start to push back in.

  “Vis?” I ask after a few minutes, turning a little to better face him.

  “Yes, Ameia?” he asks, gazing down at me with eyes full of softness.

  “What do you think is going to happen? What do you think… he will do next?”

  I don’t know how long Vis and Warrick were on the Other Side or how long they served there but if anyone has an idea of what the Devourer might do next I know it’s most likely them.

  Vis’ face hardens. “He will attack us next.”

  I don’t know what I was expecting. Perhaps I was expecting him to be dishonest, to choose to soothe me with reassurances instead of worrying me with bluntness.

  “He’s pushing us where he wants us. We’re vulnerable off of Blackspire, we should have never left.”

  “But we couldn’t have stayed,” I frown at him.

  “We could have, Ameia, but King Ros wasn’t willing to make that decision.”

  “What do you mean?” I press, trying to keep my voice from rising and waking Warrick. “What decision could he have made? Over half of the population had gone mad.”

  “Yes,” Vis nods his head in agreement. “Half of the population has gone mad, and instead of dispatching them the King chose to spare them by leaving. And now we’re weak and vulnerable. Up here, we’re ripe for the picking.”

  Eyes widening, the full force of my distress must be showing on my face because Vis curses and bends down, grabbing my face with both of his hands.

  “You have nothing to worry about, Ameia. We will protect you,” he says with such conviction I ache to hear it.

  “I know,” I say peering back into his eyes. Searching but seeing no hint of darkness. All I see is warm, glowing red. Love and affection. Possession. “But that’s not what I’m worried about.”

  He’s so close I could kiss him. My eyes drop, going to his lips and he purrs. I’d like nothing more than to press against his vibrating chest. If only we could touch more, if only I could hug him but I have the girls between us.
<
br />   “What are you worried about?” he asks.

  Eyes sliding back up, we stare at each other for a long time before I finally answer. “Who’s going to protect you?”

  Shaking his head, he smiles then closes the distance between us, kissing me hard on the lips.

  Mouth crushing my mouth, he kisses me long and deep before pulling back and telling me, “Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

  I don’t know why but I don’t quite believe him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Once more I allow the room to fall into a numb quiet. I try my best not to worry too much, not to completely freak out but I feel like I’m suffering disaster overload.

  Both Terrea and Blackspire are gone…

  Gone.

  Swallowed by darkness.

  How do I even begin to process this?

  “Ameia?” Lorune’s voice is soft and uncertain as she stands in the doorway of our room.

  I try to force my lips into a smile but the mask refuses to slide back into place. “Yes?”

  Lorune stares at me for a long moment and I feel like she can see right through me.

  Can she see all my cracks? Can she see that I’m breaking?

  “We’ve prepared a larger room for you, and Grogan would like to scan you and the girls—with your permission.”

  Warrick grumbles and the floor vibrates beneath my feet as he shudders and pushes up to his feet. Vis gazes down at me with one eyebrow raised, awaiting my answer.

  A larger room sounds appealing; we’re much too cramped inside of this one. Warrick alone takes up most of the floor space.

  “Only if all of us can remain together,” I answer. It’s my answer to both questions.

  Lorune nods and offers me a small tight smile. She’s trying just as hard as I am and I commend her for her effort. “Of course, dear.”

  Vis helps me to my feet and I struggle a little, finding it awkward to find my balance while holding the girls.

  “Would you like me to help?” Lorune asks, stepping forward and eagerly holding out her arms.

  I quickly shake my head. “No, but thank you.”

  I feel a little twinge of regret as her arms drop back to her side and she frowns with disappointment. “Very well. If you’ll follow me?”