All she could think of was getting the meal over with so that she could get away from the disgusting Blaithari captain.
8
Veral glared at the bars of his cell. The meats, breads and savory foods did not tempt him. The small platter sat abandoned on the ledge that survived as a table to his left. Instead, he was watching the nervous movements of the small Blaithari male who had brought him his food. The youngling swiped the back of his sleeve nervously over his nose, his body trembling as he was pinned in place with fear.
Narrowing his eyes, Veral remembered that his mate had once said that he was terrifying without even trying. He did not wish to frighten the youngling. He wanted information. More than anything, however, he wanted to choke the life out of whatever male had allowed his offspring to live in such a deplorable state, scrawny—near starvation—with oversized worn clothes. At least he was not dirty, which, given the state of the lower levels of the pirate ship, was something of a miracle.
He must belong to someone higher up in the crew. Though the youngling was noticeably only half-Blaithari, he clearly belonged to someone with the means for basic, if inadequate, upkeep. He did not want to know what would happen to a youngling born in the lower levels of the pirate vessel. Some of the crew might have found an opportunity to eat him before he was even weaned. The thought of the male being raised in such an environment sickened him.
Cocking his head, Veral attempted to school his features into what he thought might be a sympathetic expression. The male backed away, his eyes widening in terror.
That did not work.
Veral hissed a curse beneath his breath, his mandibles clicking in agitation—which naturally did nothing to comfort the youngling. He then cursed whatever male sent him low into the ship to deliver him food. The small male was of an age where he should still be with his mother.
“Do not fear,” he grumbled. “No harm will come to you from me. What is your name, and why are you not with your mother?”
The youngling hesitated and slid a cautious step forward. “Garswal. Mother died last year. One of the Igwin caught her when she was working.”
“Your sire cares for you?”
He nodded. “He killed the Igwin and took me to the upper decks with him. I still have to do my job very well, but he makes sure I have some food and a warm place to sleep on the floor at the foot of his bed.”
Growling, Veral turned away so he did not frighten the young male again. He had heard before how Blaithari males treated offspring born outside of a mating union, worse younglings born of mixed heritage. They were not considered Blaithari or legitimate offspring. This male was acknowledged only because his mother died, and his father took him in as one might a pet.
Stripping a large hunk of meat from his platter, Veral turned and held the offering out through the bars. The youngling’s eyes widened, and he took another few steps forward before reining himself in reluctantly.
“I am not supposed to take anything without my father’s approval,” he mumbled miserably, his eyes latched forlornly on the food held out to him.
Veral admired the youngling’s self-restraint, uncommon for his age.
“That might normally be a sensible instruction, but there is no reason to not accept it from me. Argurma do not harm younglings, nor will I harm you. I am only disturbed by how small you are and wish to provide you with some sustenance that you so obviously require and desire.”
Garswal swallowed, his expression filled with longing. “My father would not be happy with me taking some of your rations when I ate mine.”
Veral’s brow dipped in a heavy scowl, his vibrissae twitching around him in irritation. This did not make sense. “But you still hunger.”
“He says that it is enough and as much as I have earned.”
Clearly the youngling’s sire was a male he would have to deal with personally once he escaped. A low growl rumbled from him, making Garswal twitch nervously. “Who is this male?”
“The… the captain. It is not so bad. His room is the best in the entire ship. It is more comfortable than what I had with mother, and I eat every day.”
The cell filled with the deadly sound of vibrissae rattling and whipping as Veral’s fury grew, instinctively searching for any weakness in the cell. That a male, especially one in a position to do much for his offspring, could treat his own youngling in such a way… With a deep breath, he clamped down hard on his anger, drawing it back under his iron control. He was frightening the small male. Still holding the meat out, he gave it a jiggle.
“Small males need far more to eat to grow healthy and strong. Eat. There is no surveillance in this room, and I will not speak of it to anyone.”
Garswal crept closer, curious. “Is it true what they say about Argurmas? Do you have tech implanted within you that makes you super strong and gives you the ability to be aware of active tech around you?”
“It is true.” In part. “But it is very painful and begins when we are young. I would not recommend the process for other species.”
The youngling let out a breath in fascination but nodded as he hastily reached forward and snatched the dangling meat from Veral’s hand. He scurried back, no doubt driven by instinct as much as caution, before consuming the meat with his sharp teeth in several quick bites. The moment it was gone, he bobbed his head in thanks before darting out of the room before Veral could say anything more to him.
Drawing back into his cage, Veral settled on the sleeping pallet in the corner, his back sliding against the wall, the sharp horns on his shoulders scraping loudly against the metal. His vibrissae twitched from the sensation. He curled his lip as he took in his surroundings. The brig was rundown like most of the lower ship. It was clear that the captain was not invested in maintaining that part of the ship. It was disgusting.
Ignoring the food waiting for him, he closed his eyes and touched on that familiar pathway in his mind that connected him to his cousin. He knew that Kaylar would have been waiting for word since receiving the emergency alert. As expected, Kaylar connected with him immediately on their private communication frequency.
“Veral, where are you? The council is very displeased and have alerted the retrieval units. This is very serious, cousin.”