It had been many revolutions, but he knew the female before him by her voice and familiar, unchanged face. Like of all their race who lived for hundreds of years in youth before a rapid decline when the nanos wore out, she was as beautiful as he remembered and as strong as any of his cousins. Despite that, there was a peculiar gentleness to her that was odd for their species, but it had been that quality that made her the only one of his mother-kin who had assisted his mother when he had first returned and had been confused. Her mellow voice had soothed him then, and he was grateful now to see her amid the chaos of change occurring around him. He recognized his grandmother’s sister with a deep, respectful bow of his head.
“Anahal, you are correct,” he acknowledged. “The law of the council does not serve us. It strips us of our identity and returns us to our mother lines broken, only to wait to see our own offspring stolen. If the council permitted me to keep Terri, they would implement the same procedures that would remove everything unique from my mate. That is if they did not carry out their current plans to dissect her in an attempt to learn ways to remove what bonds we have kept—our mating bonds. My offspring would be destroyed in their experiments,” he added, directing these words to Featha, whose eyes widened as a look of fleeting horror passed over her face.
Good. Her horror would protect his young. Featha was conniving, but she was not a monster. Kaylar was correct on that matter. Despite her distaste for the situation, she would protect an innocent daughter of the line. He could see that in the sudden rigid set of her shoulders as she took on the weight of responsibility. There was still a significant probability that she would adjust. He would work toward those odds.
“We allow the council to restrict who we mate with. We do not know what opportunities we have missed. There may be many species who would further strengthen and grow our line,” he added.
The males and females among his kin again exchanged looks, communicating among their private lines.
“I will stand by you, mother-kin,” Navesha said loudly as she pushed her way up to his side. Her lip curled back in a sneer as she looked over the rest of their people. “Does anyone else stand with us against the cruelty and crippling laws of the council?”
Navesha’s support, as a female of the line possessing great standing, proved crucial. Although it was unreasonable to suspect that it was unanimous, his mother-kin promised to guard their secret. The corners of Veral’s lips tipped up as he watched his mother-kin edge toward his mate with mixed expressions of curiosity and incredulity. When the medic finally pushed his way through to squint with interest down at Terri, a tension within Veral’s systems eased. His mate and offspring would be safe… for now.
8
Terri’s eyes widened when a large male—slightly shorter than Veral but broad with muscle—approached, his flared vibrissae making him appear even larger. His entire body screamed barely leashed violence, and Terri tensed warily in reaction. In contrast to Veral’s dark silver, he was a starless black hue that seemed to almost suck away any light near him, his glowing eyes like flames set in his face. She was certain that he was going to attack and prepared herself, her symbiont flaring hot as it prepared to unleash itself if required.
Veral stood, seemingly unconcerned about the giant striding toward him. She wished she could share that confidence. She wasn’t able to keep herself from jumping when the male’s arm swung out only to grip Veral’s shoulder spine in a friendly gesture, a deep chuff leaving him. His eyes rolled toward her only for a moment before returning to her mate.
“Veral’skahalur,” he drawled in a deep voice. “The chatter through the communication lines is correct—you survived and returned to us. I expected you to be dead or barely clinging to life if you returned. You look much the same, but I see that revolutions in space have hardened you. It did you some good, then.”
Her mate grunted and clasped the other male in turn, his eyes narrowing and rising at the corners with an ease that came from evident familiarity.
“Larth’evanshal. I did not expect to see you alive if I returned. I assumed that you would be ranked to an elite warrior and perish on some battlefield for the council. And you are larger.”
The male in question chuffed again, not denying it.
“You are accurate, in part,” he agreed. “I signed up for one rotation, earned my warrior marks and these upgrades you note, and afterward declined further rotations. I returned to our territory to protect the house and the line. And yet, of the two of us, you are the one who returned with a mate. I never would have expected an honor-bound male, one who would rather flee into exile than draw unfavorable attention to his line, to break council law and mate outside of our species.”
“We are both surprised then,” Veral replied, amusement in his expression. “I did not receive communication that you had become head of the Ahanvala Guard. I would not have expected you to obtain any position that requires cool calculation. You were always too eager to fight than to use your processor sensibly,” he chuffed. “You would have been among the first I would expect to flaunt the council and mate where you like.”
“You provide a compelling incentive to do so,” Larth said, his eyes fastening this time on Terri with interest.
She held an amused snort. He was judging that by what, exactly? Her winning personality as she stood there and literally said nothing? The way she rounded out like an inflatable rescue device?
Although it wasn’t possible for her to share a private communication line with Veral without having implants put in, she was certain that he knew exactly what she was thinking because he chuffed and slanted her a knowing look.
“My mate is very compelling in many ways,” he agreed with a low, lustful rumble.
Heat flared through her, desire flushing her skin. At that moment, she couldn’t say for sure who was compelling whom.
Larth’s smile widened into an Argurma grin, showing the tips of his fangs.
“I look forward to hearing more of her species, then,” he rumbled, and Terri immediately felt for whatever woman he might manage to snare if he got to Earth.
She had a feeling Larth was the persistent sort. Although that did seem to be an Argurma trait to varying degrees. Dreth might be at the shyer end of the scale—and given his determination, that was saying something—but Larth was noticeably at the other end… as was the male approaching from the side wearing a blue robe. He was hard to miss. Though muscular as any of the Argurma, he had a leaner frame as opposed to the bulk the males and even several females seemed to prefer. He had been hovering close for the last several minutes but hadn’t made any move to approach until now.
Veral drew back slightly, making room for the newcomer, and inclined his head.
“Medic,” he greeted the stranger, his expression as cold as the glaciers on Xalkilon. He really wasn’t keen on people he didn’t know. In fact, his brow was dropping into a scowl. “You are not Garalth,” he observed icily.
“No. I am Medic Tarik,” the male corrected. “Garalth was my father. He now rests with our ancestors, drinking sweet water in the cool realm of Ehanel.”
Veral’s expression didn’t lighten nor did he so much as twitch. Terri prodded him with her elbow. He glanced over at her before returning his attention to Tarik and grunting.
“Garalth was a good male. His loss is a loss to the line,” he acknowledged. For about five seconds he was a sympathetic, feeling male, and just as quickly he shut it down. “You received my scans?”
The blue-robed male gave a pleased smile, his vibrissae puffing out with pride as he gave an abbreviated nod.