The king flopped back on his chair. His hand covered his mouth in shock. This was bad, this was impossible. It shouldn’t happen. This was not how things should be going. What if Kellan got hurt? His son would never forgive him.
“Do something!” Jarvan begged, shaking his arm.
Leylos needed to think, he needed to come up with something to stop this madness. But he had no idea, nothing that would justify a delay of the trial. Nothing would justify denying their goddess her will.
“Leylos!” his consort hissed again, this time even more desperate.
“Father! Kellan’s not in shape. He can’t win!” it was Kohtah who sounded like he was choking…or about to cry.
But Leylos sat there, feeling frozen and helpless like never before in his life.
Kohtah was right. Kellan wasn’t in shape to fight at all and even so, how could this small man fight two ruthless outlaws? But the goddess had to think otherwise. She knew more than him. She was gentle and wise. Leylos had to trust her with this.
Even so, Jarvan had told him Kellan was some kind of Champion and that he had killed Phy’vohranians in combat, but Leylos couldn’t quite believe it. It didn’t fit Kellan’s appearance.
He was always so well-behaved and gentle. Only today he had been frightening, but Leylos blamed it on the fact that Sartak was still unconscious.
The clatter of the paled gate told him that time was up. Leylos could do nothing to prevent this from happening. He could only pray to Mother Cosmos and every other god there was.
Kellan felt calm. He felt fearless.
His eyes were fixed on the gate that opened on the opposite side of him. The slow lifting of the heavy steel was relaxing. It was familiar to him. It felt like being in the depth of the governmental ship again.
He was ready, he was out for blood, and he would have their blood.
Kellan didn’t care what species they were. He was ready to fight anything.
He would have his justice, served cold and bloody.
A smile played on his lips. Yes, he would show them what it meant to have him as their enemy.
Kellan forgave a lot of things, but not attempted murder on the man he had slowly fallen in love with…not on the man who was the father of his child.
Gods knew he would never forgive this. He thirsted for blood and revenge, and he would have both of it.
Kellan wanted to make them pay; wanted to slowly torture them to death. He felt the darkness, the savage side in him. He knew this reckless and merciless man was a part of him he shouldn’t let win.
Moreover, killing them slowly would mean he would be separated from Sartak even longer this evening. He wanted to see his husband, but first, he would take care of these two outlaws, whoever they were.
He drew his twin swords. The solid handle felt good in his hands, it felt right. His swords were the deadly extension of his arms. He could wield them as fine as he could use words, maybe even better.
Yes, he was ready. He was determined. No fear, no nervousness, no second thoughts.
Finally, the gate was open and two figures stepped out of the darkness.
Kellan laughed and they halted their stride for a moment.
These two were his opponents? They were human! The irony of this was hilarious, so he laughed again.
Both men were clearly bigger and a lot more muscular than him, but it didn’t matter. He would cut them down in no time. Their faces were grim.
Oh, the irony! Kellan stood on Phy’vohranian ground; ready to fight against humans.
“You seriously wanna kill us? Look at you! You’re small, like a kid. C’mon kiddo, that’s not what you want,” the first of them sneered at him.
Kellan didn’t even acknowledge him.
“You mad? I’m not gonna fight some pregnant kiddo!” the second shouted at the king in the king’s box, but obviously he got no answer from Leylos.
“If you don’t want to fight, then please just stand there while I finish off your mate over there and end your sorry life afterward,” Kellan said calmly.
The second man frowned.
“C’mon kiddo! How can you fight for those…those…fucking lizards! One of them knocked you up, made you their fucking breeder! To them, you’re some kind of broodmare! You should be on our side! We are your people!” he seemed outraged by what was happening right now.
Well, Kellan didn’t care.
“I’m no broodmare. I’m Royal Consort Kellan Harrison-Nexvrin. I will be the Royal Advisor and Ambassador soon and maybe even Regent one day. Don’t try to tell me I mean nothing to them. You tried to kill my husband, now you will receive the goddess’s judgment,” with that he lifted his swords and crossed them in front of his chest.
It was the sign for them, to also draw their weapons.
At first, they hesitated, but when they both had a weapon in hand, Kellan nodded in mock approval.
The first one had chosen an ax and a shield, the second one a sword. Kellan decided to take out the one with the shield first.
When the one with the sword lunged at him, he just knew they were easy kills. They had no idea what they were doing. Presumably, they’d never fought with a traditional weapon before. Good for Kellan because he was trained in ancient fighting styles.
Kellan whirled around with his arms bend, his elbows pointing slightly outwards but still close to his body while holding the blades crossed in front of him to make him as small as possible without giving up protection.
He ducked under the swordsman’s arm, grabbed it, and pulled while giving him a kick which sent him lying on the ground.
Swiftly he danced out of reach of the ax wielder. He whirled around like a tornado, coming nearer to the man with his shield. He didn’t care for the shield, not really.
With another elegant whirl, he turned his blades down and pinned the ax under the center of the X his swords built. Using his momentum, he pushed the swords with the pinned ax’s grip to the ground.
Stomping on the man’s fingers that held the weapon, he forced the ax wielder to let go.
The man shook his hand with a pained expression on his face, forgetting about the shield for a moment. His eyes grew wide, his mouth opened.
With disbelief, the man glanced down at his chest where one of Kellan’s swords pierced him through the body.
Blood colored his crème-colored shirt red while more of it bubbled from his open mouth. Putting a foot on the man’s shoulder, Kellan pulled his sword free.
Turning around he saw that the other man was indeed not moving.
“See. Now’s your turn,” Kellan gave him a coy smile.
Mumbling the man scurried backward, holding his sword up and outstretched to keep Kellan at a certain distance at least.
How sweet.
As Kellan slowly walked towards him, a new expression appeared on his face. Suddenly a fire lit in his eyes.
With an outraged cry, he swung his swords and missed Kellan just because he jumped out of the way at the last moment.
“Now, now! There we go!” Kellan laughed, also lunging at him with a swift move of his blades.
Whirling and ducking with flowing motions, he danced around the man’s sword without getting touched by it. He could have finished him off anytime, but he enjoyed mocking and enraging the man even more.
One could not fight with anger in their veins. It was a lesson he had learned very fast.
“C’mon. I thought to fight some pregnant kiddo was too easy for you,” he ridiculed him.
That led to more lunging and slashing.
When Kellan finally grew tired of the man’s sad attempts at hurting him, he whirled around and behind him.
The man, of course, turned right after him.
Kellan grabbed his sword arm and pushed it down with the help of the man’s own momentum. He sat the point of his right sword on the man’s neck and pulled him closer, pushing the weapon right through his throat. The outlaw sniffled, his glazed gaze met Kellan’s.
He
heard the man drop his sword, so he dropped his left sword as well.
With the now free hand, he grabbed the man’s sandy blonde hair, ignoring the fountain of blood from his throat as he tried to speak. His mouth turned into a waterfall of red.
Carefully he leaned the man’s face against his chest. He let loose the other sword which was still in the man’s neck. Gently, Kellan caressed the man’s head.
“Don’t be mad. It is no shame to lose against a champion,” he whispered softly into the dying man’s ear.
With a thud, he led the dead body fall to the floor.
He knew he had blood all over, but Kellan didn’t mind it. Instead, he retrieved both his swords and wiped them clean on the outlaw’s trousers, then put them back into their sheath.
Turning around, he faced the king up in his box.
“The goddess has decided,” he said, breaking the silence.
Without waiting for a response, he turned away and walked right to the gate where he had been lead through. It opened immediately for him.
He didn’t take the way back to the viewers’ rows, but right out of the arena.
15
The stench of blood carried through the air right to his nose.
Someone or something made noise nearby.
His body felt weird and something was keeping his right arm from moving. And…what the hell?!
What was that thing around his penis?!
He wiggled his hips. Yes, there was definitely something attached to his penis.
His mouth also felt dry and…blasted galaxies! Some animal must have crawled on his tongue and died there. The taste was awful, absolutely gross.
There! The noise started again.
Clack! Clack!
Clack!
He winced. Someone was moving furniture, the chair scratched on the floor. Damn! Could that person please stop?!
His head weighed at least ten tons. Seriously! The sounds seemed so loud; they thundered in the room. Where was he even?
He was sure he had heard his kmeran’s voice sometimes, but maybe he had been dreaming. Because…blast!
The chase through the swamp!
Gunfire, laser pistols!
The cliff! Oh, that fucking, shitty cliff!
What in all galaxies had driven him to jump down from it?!
His pursuers hadn’t been so bad after all. The worst had been that big ass monster waiting for him just around the corner! Fucking hell! He had thought his time was up.
Damn! That thing hadn’t eaten him, right? He wouldn’t feel so good regarding the circumstances…
He had to be at home. Or was he dead? Was this some kind of hell? But in hell he wouldn’t have heard Kellan speaking to him, right? Not even hell would be so cruel to let him imagine that his mate spoke to him, knowing he would never see him again…no, hell couldn’t be that cruel, of that he was sure.
The nauseating smell of blood was still in the room. Rich with iron, it reminded him of human’s blood.
Human’s blood...Kellan!
Sartak became suddenly wide awake. The dim light lit the room, but it still felt too bright.
Damn, why couldn’t he open his left eye?
Carefully he touched his face…what the hell?
He wore a mask?! Oh well…at least he could see with his right eye.
He glanced around the room, his body ached. Immediately his eyes stumbled upon the intravenous bottle holder and of course, the infusion bags attached to his right arm. Okay, that was why he couldn’t move his arm around.
He fought the urge to look at what was wrong with his penis and searched for someone else in the room. He had smelled the blood, and he had heard the noise, probably caused by shoes with heels.
A person sat with their back towards Sartak on one of the chairs in a corner. That person seemed to look outside into the garden. The curtains were drawn.
It was night.
Sartak sat up with some difficulties, but when he had finally rearranged the small tubes leading to the infusion bags, he sniffed the air. The blood was already dried…fresh but dried.
“Kellan?” damn, was that hoarse whisper his voice?
The platinum-haired head spun around.
The person’s face was grim and covered in blood. But when the person saw him awake, the harsh expression lightened up.
That must be Kellan, right? Platinum hair, silver eyes…
“Sartak!” just a second later he was at his side, tears in his eyes and a broad smile on his lips.
The black clothes were soaked in blood, but yes, it was Kellan.
His sweet mate kneeled on the bed next to him and grabbed his face. Holding it in his hands, he looked him into the eyes. Oh, what beautiful eyes they were…
Sartak’s heart jumped with joy. Was that look full of heart-warming love for him? It must be…because no one else was here.
Sartak panted in surprise when Kellan carefully crawled on his lap and…kissed him! He moaned. Closing his eyes, he relaxed.
Goddess, this was great. Maybe he was in heaven…
Even though it should have been gross to taste the blood on his lips, Sartak deepened the kiss. He grabbed Kellan’s shoulder with his free hand and brought him closer to him. Hungrily he pressed his mouth against those soft plush lips of his beautiful kmeran, only to remember that his mouth had tasted like rotten flesh.
Abruptly he pulled back, covering his mouth with his hand. Wide-eyed, he stared at Kellan. Oh damn! Their first kiss and he tasted like shit. Damn!
Kellan, on the other hand, hadn’t seemed to mind it. His eyelids fluttered and an enraptured smile played on his lips. When he opened his eyes, his expression showed confusion. Cheeks turning a bright pink, he chuckled awkwardly.
“Sorry…the blood. I’ll go get washed,” Kellan shifted around, clearly getting ready to stand up from the bed.
Sartak hastily shook his head and grabbed his kmeran’s arm before he could get up, making him turn his face back to him to give him a questioning look.
“That’s not the problem. I…my mouth tastes like rotten stuff,” he muttered, embarrassed to admit it.
“Oh! Oh…I didn’t…I only taste blood at the moment. Let me get all the stuff so you can brush your teeth,” again he wanted to stand up, but Sartak still held onto his hand.
“Take me with you?” he asked coyly, at which Kellan laughed.
Frowning, he regarded his pretty human but then smiled. He liked it when his small kmeran laughed. The sound was divine to his ears and he very much liked it to see him happy.
“You can’t leave the bed, hon. I’ll be right back, and then I’ll get Dr. Selarney,” Kellan said, giving him a small peck on the lips, then left for the bathroom.
Right…he still had the infusion bags attached to his arm…and that unspeakable thing on his cock.
Hadn’t Kellan just called him the short form of honey? Well, that made everything better. He decided he could live with lying around helplessly because Kellan called him nicknames.
Sartak was just leaning back into the pillows when then door suddenly swung open. Certainly, too many people entered the room.
“Didn’t know it was an open day,” he muttered under his breath; not really loud enough so they would hear it.
Fucking stardust- he had really looked forward to spending some time alone with Kellan. Why did everybody need to disturb them?
Since Kellan had drawn the curtains of the bed before he had left, they couldn’t see him.
“Kellan! Are you okay? You left right after the trial. You want to talk about it?” it was his father who almost shouted it.
His kmera, uncle, and brothers were just behind him. He heard them walking around in the room, more than likely looking for Kellan. Should he say something or just keep quiet and hope they’d go away soon? But when his little brothers started calling for Kellan, he sighed.
“Could you just stop that?” Sartak was rather indignant right now.
Immediately all of them
stopped running around. Oh well, at least they were silent now, only that in the next second, the curtains were ripped open. His kmera stared at him wide eyed, then rushed forward and hugged him tightly.
“Oh, my little boy! You’re awake. Oh dear, I was so afraid and Kellan! He was like a zombie the whole time! Don’t you dare to ever do that again!” he rebuked him while in tears.
Soothingly Sartak stroked his kmera’s back; at the same time, he muttered calming words.
“Believe me, I’m in no hurry to get shot or half eaten again,” he said when Jarvan finally let go of him.
One after another, his family gave him hugs; his uncle teased him that he hadn’t tasted good enough to be fully eaten. Of course, Harok got a nasty look from his kmeren, his kmer sibling, for that.
“But more important…tell me about this trial,” he urged to know what that had meant.
His parents exchanged glances, obviously not sure of what to tell him.
Oh, stardust! He just wanted to know the truth. It wasn’t that hard to just tell him.
Jarvan first noticed his impatience and elbowed his father, making Sartak turn his eyes.
“The Trial of the Goddess…we managed to catch two of your attackers. Kellan called in the trial and acted as his own champion. Both dropped dead, while Kellan didn’t even sweat,” his father finally recounted reluctantly but only after his kmera and Kohtah had elbowed him again.
Clearly, they expected him to be outraged by this news, but surprisingly he didn’t mind. Kellan had seemed well and unharmed, so there was no reason for him to be angry. Though, he would have preferred for Kellan not to risk his wellbeing so lightheartedly.
“I see,” he said clearing his voice. “I’m still tired, though. May we speak tomorrow?”
Sartak didn’t want to throw them out of the room. He understood that they had been worried about him, but he just needed some time alone with his kmeran.
He loved his family dearly, but at this moment he wished for nothing more than Kellan to lie by his side, and…well…he would be overly happy even if they just talked. A kiss though…he wouldn’t dream of complaining about that.
The Golden Heart: Alliance Book One (Alliance Series 1) Page 19
