by Mary Auclair
Then Yalko turned to leave, walking to the round opening in the wall that led out of the room. As Hazel watched his tall form move further away, her mind raced.
They needed the Muharee to save Celaith and Zaxis, to prevent Knut from plunging the entire Ring into chaos. They needed the Muharee if they ever wished to go back to their home.
“No!” Hazel called out and Yalko stopped, his back straight, his long clawed hand on the rock. He turned his head to the side, yellow eyes shining. “When I saved your life, it cost me my freedom, my friends’ freedom. It almost cost me my life. You saving us cost you nothing. The debt still stands.”
Yalko turned blazing eyes to her over his shoulder. Danger hovered in the air as those yellow eyes settled on Hazel, then flashed to Khal.
A single nod was all Yalko gave them before leaving.
As soon as his chieftain was gone, Relial moved forward, placing the white, wet fabric over Hazel’s wound and around her thigh. For the briefest of moments, the fabric was cool and soothing against her mangled flesh.
Then the soothing cold gave way to an inferno. Flames kissed her open flesh, slithered inside her torn muscles, traveled along her frayed nerves.
“Let the Mother’s milk cleanse your body with fire,” Relial intoned gently, with what was the closest thing to empathy Hazel had ever heard from a Muharee. “Just let go. Trust in her.”
The pain became a living thing inside her body, spreading like the roots of a plant under her skin, inside her veins and arteries. Soon, it was as if the flesh were melting from her bones, liquefying in puddles of acid mud.
She wanted to tell Khal to help her, wanted to tell Relial and Yalko that she wasn’t strong enough. Not nearly strong enough. She wanted to sleep, to slip into blessed oblivion.
But her voice was gone.
More words came from Relial, but Hazel didn’t hear them. She couldn’t hear or speak, couldn’t see, though her eyes were wide open. All she could do was feel, and all there was to feel was pain.
Finally, her voice came and the scream left her lips.
Hazel screamed and screamed as the world vanished and she was consumed by the fire, which reduced to a faint light in the back of her mind. Somewhere along the way, Khal took her hand and bent closer. He whispered soothing nonsense in her ear as the brazier raged on in her body, and she held on to his voice like a lifeline.
And still, she screamed.
* * *
Khal
Watching Hazel suffer was like having a hot poker rummage through his insides and pull his organs out one at a time to crush them slowly. Her pain hurt his very soul, and all his instincts urged him to roar and destroy everything around him in a fit of rage. Powerlessness was making him mad, but Khal controlled his impulses.
He knew he would not be welcomed for long in the Muharee’s home. That didn’t matter; he never intended to stay.
Hazel lay on the bed, her entire body contorting, the scream still coming from her mouth but her voice was shattered, broken. Khal watched as her skin covered in a cold layer of sweat, a fever burning right through her. The healer had warned him that the Mother’s Milk, the substance they extracted from the Medina’s root, was like a fire spreading through her body. But not even all his training had prepared him for seeing his bloodmate suffer this way.
Finally, hours into the healing, Hazel quieted, her screams dying down as her body finally surrendered. He watched her slip into oblivion, her mind shutting down as her muscles relaxed.
“I am so sorry I couldn’t protect you better.” Khal reached for Hazel’s hand, cradling it in his own. It was so small, so dainty. So fragile. “I won’t fail you again.”
“Humans are fascinating,” a voice like broken glass called from behind him. “So fragile in body, yet so strong in spirit.”
Khal turned around, pushing down the hiss in his throat as the Muharee chieftain walked inside the room. Yalko’s reptilian face was emotionless, but his bright yellow eyes settled on Hazel as he approached.
“What I don’t understand is how a female like her can attach herself to an Eok.” There was something dark, something savage and feral in the way Yalko looked at Khal. “Your kind is not built for sentimentality, or for love. All you know is how to kill.” His eyes wandered to Hazel, then back to Khal with naked, obvious hatred. “Eoks are a sickness.” Yalko enunciated his words, biting them out. “She would be well served to be rid of you.”
The hiss escaped Khal’s throat this time and he turned to face the Muharee.
Yalko observed him, his demeanor calm and collected but his yellow eyes blazing with an anger that stemmed from long suffering.
“You cannot judge an entire species based on the actions of a few.”
Yalko stalked closer, his shimmering green clothing molding to his body. The Muharee were slim and tall, but Khal would not make the mistake of underestimating them. They were agile and limber, fast and strong. They might not possess the bulk strength of the Eoks, but Khal knew that Yalko would make a formidable opponent should he have to fight him.
A formidable opponent or a great ally. An ally who could change the fate of his mission.
“When the pale one, the one you name Knut, came to Muhar, we did not shun him.” Yalko spoke in a dreamy tone, his face betraying nothing of his feelings, but his eyes lost in a past filled with pain. “We heard his plea for shelter and allowed him to build his home in the safe grasslands, away from our Medina.”
“You were kind to him?” Khal was shocked. All he had ever heard of the Muharee was that they were war-hungry people, cruel, who worshipped a God of Death and blood. They were not. “You were kind to him.”
“And he repaid our kindness with blood and betrayal,” Yalko answered, his voice brimming with anger. “He began destroying the grasslands, poisoning the Medina. His foul buildings produced warriors like we had never seen before, born of no mother or father, standing strong from the day they were born. Soon, we realized our mistake and when we told him he was no longer welcome on Muhar, he attacked us. At first, he used his Ilarian guards to keep our raids at bay, but soon enough, the blue devils came.”
“Gerkin.” Khal said the name and Yalko’s eyes closed, just for a second.
“Yes. Gerkin came with his Eok warriors, and they brought death with them. They razed entire villages and murdered the grassland tribes until none remained. They didn’t differentiate between warriors and others. They slaughtered young ones, females, elders. They have no honor, no mercy.”
Yalko’s eyes became vague and for the first time, Khal saw what appeared to be grief in his usually stoic features—bottomless, vivid pain. The kind of grief that pushed a warrior to despair or to great courage, depending on whether he had any reason left to live.
“Gerkin has betrayed my kind.” Khal’s skin crawled with disgust and outrage as he spoke. “My people are warriors, not butchers. We do not condone the killing of innocents.”
Yalko’s yellow eyes flashed with a sudden rage. “But your kind is bent on imposing the rule of the Ring.” Yalko’s voice was curt, his tone barely contained. “For profit or for power, your kind is only interested in conquest.”
“That is not why I came here. I have no interest in conquering Muhar.” This wasn’t the way Khal wanted this discussion to be going. This wasn’t the way he needed this discussion to be going. “We came here to bring Knut to justice for all he’s done, along with all those he works with. That is what my friends have sacrificed their lives for.” Just mentioning Zaxis and Celaith tore out another piece of Khal’s heart, spreading pain and anger where he was already raw and bleeding.
“I remember your friends from Gerkin’s jail.” Yalko’s tone held no anger, but no sympathy either. “I am sorry for their loss, but I won’t sacrifice any more of our people than those who were already lost.”
Frustration welled inside Khal. He knew the Muharee had lost a lot, but they still had a lot to lose. Khal had everything to lose if the Muharee didn’t help
them.
“Knut came here for a reason.” Khal spoke despite the fury in Yalko’s eyes. “He has a weapon strong enough to wipe out the entire Ring’s government; a negative particle bomb. He will plunge trillions of people into chaos and war, cause misery on a scale never seen before. I was sent here to retrieve that bomb and bring Knut back to justice. I can’t do it unless you help me stop him.”
“You would have me put more of my people in harm’s way?” Yalko’s gaze turned openly hostile. “All for the sake of a Ring that has only ever wanted to impose its rule on us?”
Khal faced the Muharee chieftain, all too aware of the danger that hovered in the air between them. Of the danger that surrounded him and Hazel like the very air they breathed. Unavoidable, permanent.
“He and Gerkin will keep on destroying your home, killing your offspring, your mates. He will not leave, and he will not stop.” Khal spoke even as Yalko’s lipless mouth opened to reveal long, curved fangs dripping with a wicked, milky white venom. The Muharee was enraged by the conversation, and Khal knew he should stop, but he had no other choice.
There was no hope of salvation unless the Muharee agreed to help.
“I should make you pay for your kind’s crimes. I should feed you to the Mother Forest and dance to your cries of agony.” Yalko took a step closer, his long, clawed fingers spread out, venom dripping onto his chin.
Khal’s talons shot out as his body tensed, ready for the fight.
Then a soft moan came from the bed and Yalko’s eyes went down to Hazel. Her beautiful, dainty features were twisted in lines of pure misery and a tortured, high-pitched whine began anew in her throat.
“She is very brave,” Yalko commented as Hazel opened her mouth wider in an almost silent scream. “My mate was brave, too. Her life was taken by Gerkin, along with my three offspring. Hazel reminds me of her.”
“If this mission fails, she will lose everything. Her freedom, her life. Her home planet. Knut will destroy everything she ever loved,” Khal said.
Yalko looked down at Hazel for a long time, then back at Khal. “You will be escorted to the edge of the Medina and given any weapons you might want to complete your mission, but that is all.” Then he left, leaving Khal alone. As his gaze fell back down to Hazel, he knew he had to do it.
He could kill Knut, could sneak inside whatever building the Avonie was hiding in. But he also knew one other thing.
He wasn’t coming back alive.
Chapter 21
Hazel
The air was long gone from her lungs and her screams had long quieted in her throat, but still, the agony raged on. For a long time, Hazel floated in the dark embrace of the fire, but little by little, the flames retreated. The blazing pain subsided and she could think.
Finally, with a supreme effort, Hazel swam to the surface, leaving the pain below. Her eyes shot open like a drowning woman breaching the surface and she breathed deeply.
Khal was still by her side, his hand still entwined with hers. As soon as she came to, he turned to bark something at another person in the room, then looked back at her.
His Prussian blue eyes locked with hers, impossibly beautiful, full of an emotion that raged just beneath the surface.
“You were lost to the world for two entire days.” His voice was a whisper, but the underlying strength made Hazel shiver. She had held on to his voice—to his presence—through her agony like she had never allowed herself to depend on anyone before, not even Sally. “I thought I had lost you.”
There was such a wealth of despair, of fear, in Khal’s last words, Hazel was choked with emotion just hearing him. If she had never allowed anyone else to mean so much to her, she had never counted so much for anyone else, either.
“I’m sorry.” She tore her eyes from Khal’s and stared at her hands, so small and frail on her stomach. He was so strong, so brave. He deserved a mate who was smart and fierce. He deserved so much more than her. “I wasn’t strong enough.”
She wanted to tell him that she knew he deserved everything that she was not, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t lose Khal; she would never survive it.
His hand closed around hers and he squeezed, hard. There was something in the intensity of the way he looked at her that made her want to cry and laugh at the same time.
“You were braver than many a warrior I have fought side by side with.” Khal was still looking at her, his impossible eyes shining, his handsome face full of gut-wrenching emotion. “You saved both our lives without shedding a single drop of blood, have no doubt about that. I was blessed by the Midnight God to find a mate such as you, Hazel.”
He bent down, his lips closing on hers. A soft warmth spread through her body, originating from where his lips touched hers. Feelings welled inside her chest, a devotion she had never felt for anyone except her sister.
She knew what that feeling was, what that feeling meant, and never before had she embraced it the way she did today. And she knew that with the danger lurking all around, she might never have another chance to tell him.
When Khal broke the kiss, she was out of breath. His forehead rested on hers and they both breathed the same air, like they were two halves of only one soul. Her hand moved of its own accord and she cradled his cheek. His smooth, thick skin felt warm under her palm, the tiny bumps of his warrior markings soothing and good.
“I love you.” Hazel’s words were like a confession, her eyes still closed as she savored the feeling of his body so close to hers.
“You are my heart, Hazel,” Khal answered her. “There is no life without you in it, not because of the Mating Venom, but because my soul has found its home in your heart. Never doubt that.”
They stayed like that for a long time, savoring each other’s presence. That this bliss could be taken away at any moment only made it more precious.
Finally, Khal pulled away, the loss of his touch like a stabbing wound to her chest. But he was right; no matter how much they wanted to stay like this, hide from the horrors of the world outside, they couldn’t. The horrors were there, waiting, and they were only getting stronger.
A movement in the side of the room made Hazel and Khal turn together to see Relial, the healer, standing in the opening. He approached, immediately focused on his task. His deft fingers lifted the pale white fabric covering her thigh, discarding it to one side to reveal pink, glistening skin.
Hazel watched, wordless for a few seconds.
“It’s gone.” Her voice was weak and she blinked in stunned shock. “How can this be?”
“The milk of the Mother carries incredible pain.” Relial spoke softly, and there was respect in his eyes when he looked at her. “But in the end, she nurtures the flesh of her children.” He ran his fingers over the long, thick pink mark, inspecting her healing with critical eyes. When he was satisfied, he straightened.
“You will eat and rest,” Relial ordered with medical authority. “Your body needs to rebuild its strength. Mazike will bring you food and drink, and you must take it all. Leave nothing.”
As if just waiting to hear the words, another Muharee entered the room. This one was smaller, with slimmer limbs, and moved with elegant poise. It was wrapped in the same green fabric, but its clothes were subtly different. It had no breasts or hips, but the sleeves of the garment were puffed at the elbows and a short frill covered its ankles. The brown scales of the skull were longer, frilled at the points.
A female.
The Muharee held a large rectangular plate filled with what looked like pieces of roasted meats and vegetables, which smelled delicious. She put the food on a low bench carved from the rock and shot a nervous glance up at Khal before leaving in a hurry. Not long after, Relial followed suit, but not before setting out new sets of clothing for both Khal and Hazel on the bench beside the food.
“Yalko makes this gift to you, so you will be able to walk freely on the surface.” Relial placed down the perfectly folded pieces of clothing, then left without a word.
H
azel sat up as the smell of food reached her nostrils and her stomach suddenly clenched in painful cramps. Khal brought it to her and she started eating. The food was delicious, a mixture of roasted vegetables she had no name for, but they were sweet and soft, crunchy and spicy. All textures and tastes were mixed on the plate as she tried each morsel with gusto. At first, it was only a few bites, but soon, she was shoveling food down her throat like she hadn’t eaten in days.
Because she hadn’t. Only when her stomach felt full and she leaned back on the mattress did she frown and look back at Khal.
“She was scared of you.” Hazel frowned at the now empty tunnel.
“Gerkin has been working for Knut for quite some time. I have no doubt that female had every reason to be afraid of me,” he answered her in a somber voice. “To the Muharee, Eoks are the enemy as much as Knut is.”
His words hit Hazel like a slap. “But we freed Yalko from Gerkin’s jail.” She shook her head. “He saw what Gerkin did to Celaith. He can’t just stay on the sidelines and watch.”
“The Muharee are an honorable people and when Knut came to their planet, they gave him sanctuary.” Khal spoke with an inner rage that surprised Hazel. “Knut repaid that kindness with nothing short of a genocide.”
Hazel’s heart filled with horror as she watched the rage filter through on Khal’s features.
“Gerkin was appointed to Garana three years ago, when my brother was tasked with being commander of the Eok forces on Earth.” Khal’s hands closed into fists, his knuckles blanching. “It was the same time that Knut came to Muhar.”
“He planned all this.” Hazel blinked until the shock passed. “Knut must have known he couldn’t buy Arlen’s loyalty, so he waited until someone new was sent to control Garana.”
Khal’s face was a landscape of rage and hatred, his Prussian blue eyes glittering and his jaw clenched. “Knut would have needed help from someone closer to the Frontier to subdue the native population of the planet he chose, at least until he had built his army. Even after that, he still needed a wartime commander. Ilarians will follow orders without question, but their lack of free will makes them poor leaders.”
