Chapter 30
Azur
K alia had been working hard, I saw, when we stepped into Laras. I’d flown into the village nearly every night but hadn’t stopped to really notice all the changes. The banners for the harvest festival were on full display, glimmering in the sunlight, stitched with silver.
I knew the north end of the village would be cleared already, vendors setting up their temporary shops to accommodate the influx of travelers and visitors who lived beyond Laras’s borders. Even those who would travel from all stretches of the Kaalium to journey to the capital for the week-long festivities. The inns were preparing too, though I knew they’d likely been booked up for the last month at least. The blood givers would be taking extra doses of baanye . The food stalls and shops would be preparing for the longest week of the season, working tirelessly. The seamstresses were likely bleeding from their fingertips to get all the orders out for the upcoming ball.
My own brothers would be coming for the harvest ball at the keep. The single event of the year where we were all together, though my father wouldn’t be in attendance.
My brothers would finally meet Gemma.
I still didn’t know how I felt about that.
I turned my gaze to where my wife was chatting quite happily with Ludayn and her mother, who plied her with yet another steam cake, one she was all too happy to accept. I knew the female’s name was Yeeda, with blue hair like her daughter’s and small horns to match. Dyaar males, in comparison, had some of the largest horns of our race.
Looking toward Ludayn’s limp wing, my lips pressed as I thought, And the Dyaar have some of the most brutal males.
A crime like that, especially against one’s own blood, would be punished in kind in the Kaalium.
Ludayn’s father would have had his wings ripped from his own body as penance. Then he would’ve been put to death.
Nyravila.
An eye for an eye.
The Dyaar’s laws were lax about such things.
Gemma laughed, husky and soft, at something Yeeda said. I didn’t care much for steam cakes. I thought the sweetness was sickening, but I had forced one down my throat when my wife had handed me one, watching her smile widen as I did.
Since when did it please me to see her pleased?
I frowned, my hand tightening on Gemma’s arm. She cast me a long look, and Yeeda’s words finally tapered off.
“Forgive us, kya ,” I murmured to Yeeda. I watched a pleasurable flush darken her cheeks black at the word. A word of respect for a female acquaintance, considered formal but proper. Yeeda shot Ludayn a pleased look, a secretive smile aimed at her daughter that seemed to embarrass Ludayn. I gave the elder female a smile to soften my interruption. “We must make our rounds.”
“Of course, Kyzaire ,” Yeeda breathed. Her face had a streak of powdered yellow grain from her baking. She wiped her hands on the cloth tucked into the waist of her pants. “Forgive me for keeping you. My Ludayn says I can keep myself company by how much I talk.”
Even though it was early, there was a line outside Yeeda’s door. A line that had parted me—for us —as Gemma and I had drawn near. Whispers and stares and excited smiles at seeing the new Kylaira of Laras first. Envious stares too, especially from some of the daughters of noble houses, females I’d recognized from the harvest balls and the dinners my mother had often hosted at the keep.
I’d recognized the bulging eyes of realization as we’d walked through the village too. The knowledge that I was in the grip of the blood madness. That my wife was my kyrana . They’d likely assumed that that was why I’d married her—this unknown human female who had seemed to fall out of the sky. It made sense to them now as expressions of knowing, of understanding passed us by.
The line behind us had seemed pleased enough to wait. To eavesdrop on Gemma and Yeeda’s conversation. They would report to their friends and family that the Kylaira had a quiet laugh, that she loved steam cakes, and that the Kyzaire was feeding from her regularly and wasn’t healing the marks he left behind. I would likely find baskets full of steam cakes placed as gifts at our gates come morning. Zaale would grumble as he brought them inside, his distaste at the clutter left at the gates evident. Yeeda would be busy with all the orders from the noble families, all clamoring to meet the new Kylaira , the blood mate to the heir of the Kaalium, to get in her good graces and gain favor among the House.
“Don’t you like them?” Gemma asked as I pulled her from Yeeda’s shop. Ludayn fell back into step behind us, though a respectable distance away so that she couldn’t hear our quiet conversation. I watched as my wife licked her fingers, her pink tongue flicking out to catch a stray crumb from the pillowy cake in her hand, as my cock tightened in my pants.
“No,” I replied. “I hate steam cakes. I have since I was a child.”
Gemma blinked and then laughed. Louder than I’d ever heard her laugh before, stopping nearby Kylorr in their path.
“Then why did you eat one in the shop?” she asked, her smile wide. Wide enough that I rubbed at my chest, feeling a strange flicker there underneath the bone.
Because you wanted me to, I thought.
“I didn’t want to offend Yeeda, now did I?” I grumbled instead.
“Oh, I don’t think you could have,” she murmured. “You were perfectly charming. She nearly swooned at your feet.” She lifted her nose into the air, catching a scent on the breeze. And here, I’d thought that humans had terribly dull senses. “What’s that?”
I smirked. “Blood cake skewers. Mixed with meat and innards.”
She wrinkled her nose, but I was already dragging her to the stall. Smaller than Yeeda’s shop, it was a tiny little cart perched on the corner of a busy road, though it was still early. The vendor—a Bartu male, not a Kylorr, with a long beak-like mouth—gaped at me.
“ Kyzaire . Kylaira . It is the highest of honors to feed you from my humble cart,” the Bartu said, his voice accented with the universal tongue, dragging out the z and the s within the words.
“Whatever it is you’re making has proven irresistible to my wife here,” I informed the male, tossing him a smile. “Two skewers, if you will. She cannot wait to try them.”
Gemma jabbed her elbow in my side, but she smiled brightly at the Bartu all the same. Yeeda’s steam cake still hung between her fingertips, and she gulped when she saw the blackened mash, roasted on the sticks, as he presented them with a flourish.
When I tried to pay, the Bartu waved me off, the scales around his neck ruffling, and I decided not to press, in case he found it offensive.
“Thank you very much. They look delicious,” Gemma said, waving back at him as we left. I smirked. Shortly after, I saw a flock of Kylorr flood the poor Bartu’s cart, each clamoring for a skewer of their own.
“You’ll pay for that,” my wife grumbled, though her spirits seemed high enough and she looked to be fighting a smile.
“How?” I pressed. “Will you force feed me the last of your steam cake as punishment?”
She peered down at it, seemed to deliberate doing just that, before she popped it into her own mouth. Around the sticky sweet mess, she said, “No. Wouldn’t want to waste it on you.”
I chuckled. “Eat your skewer, wife.”
She threw me a dark look, but I was surprised when she plucked off the first misshapen blackened ball and popped it into her mouth.
“Oh…” she murmured, the word muffled as she chewed. She held my eyes, defiant and stubborn even now, and I found myself stopping in the middle of the road to watch her. She swallowed. “That’s, um, grainy.”
My lips twitched.
“But good ,” she said, her tone triumphant, her eyes shining in the morning sun. Her gloating expression made my cock pulse.
“You like that?” I rumbled.
Her smile slowly died, suddenly realizing how near I’d drawn to her, the way my wings flared subtly behind me.
“Yes,” she answered quietly, tilting her chin up to meet my gaze. Awareness passed between us. I could smell her. Even if she did smell like steam cakes, my venom flooded over my tongue, hungering for her.
“Mmm.”
Over her shoulder, I caught heads poking out of windows and people lingering on the streets to watch us. Now was not the time to get entranced by my wife. Too many eyes were on us.
Gemma seemed to realize this, too, because she took a step back. “Can we go see the lore fields?”
“It’s a long distance out from the main center here. Most fly,” I answered. The purpose was to be seen. To show the Kylaira to the villagers in Laras before the harvest ball so hopefully the worst of the gossip would be behind us then. “But there is a good vantage point from the shrines.”
“The shrines?” she asked frowning.
“I’ll show you,” I told her, though I didn’t know if I would show her our shrine. Showing her somehow felt like a betrayal to Aina, whose own beacon was still lit every single night by myself or Kalia. The ever-present knot in my chest tightened. “Come.”
I ate my skewer with lightning-fast speed, though it did nothing to diminish my hunger, and guided her through the streets, taking the longest possible path. One that led down the Row, as we called it. The noble houses. Descendants of the great families that had worked closely with my own ancestors to create the Kaalium. Families that had stakes in the lore yields as payment for their services and their loyalties.
I took Gemma down the busiest stretch of the village too, a street with shops on both sides, bustling with activity, though most of it stopped at the mere sight of us.
We encountered Kalia there, speaking with a female I knew was decorating the keep for the ball. Neela, her name was, a friend of Kalia’s. She was human with warm golden skin and soft, wavy hair. She’d come to the Kaalium originally as a blood giver, seeking refuge from a nearby colony. Now she helped with the harvest festival and all the other festivals in between and after.
“Sister,” I greeted as we passed.
Kalia looked frazzled, as she always did this time of year.
“What are you two doing here?” she asked, mouth agape, as Neela looked on with delight. My sister glared at me. “ I wanted to show Gemma the village. How could you go without me?” she whined.
Gemma couldn’t help but stare at Neela. She’d known that there were humans in the village. Maybe she just hadn’t believed it. There were many different alien species living on Krynn—not just in Laras but throughout the Kaalium.
“Good morning, Kylaira ,” Neela greeted, blinking her green eyes at Gemma and smiling. Showing fangless, white teeth, just like my wife’s.
“Good morning,” Gemma said, processing the words quickly. She smiled back and acted like this was just another everyday occurrence. It always struck me how adaptable she was. How easily she could mold herself into a situation, however unexpected. She held out her hand. A human gesture of greeting, I knew from experience. “Gemma Hara. Pleased to meet you.”
“Neela Thorne,” she replied, taking Gemma’s hand and shaking it. “Pleased to meet you as well. I heard you come from New Everton.”
“Yes,” Gemma replied, her smile serene and soft. “From the Collis.”
“It’s beautiful there,” Neela said. “I visited once. Long ago.”
I couldn’t read the expression on Gemma’s face. It looked like longing, perhaps. Did she miss her home? How could she when it had only ever brought her grief?
“Yes, it is,” Gemma said softly.
Kalia cut in. “Where are you going now?”
“She wants to see the lore fields. I’m taking her up to the shrines to see them better.”
Kalia exchanged a look with me. Finally, she nodded. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Neela and I are just finalizing the floral arrangements and the lore vendors for the ball.”
I inclined my head, guiding Gemma forward. “Make sure there will be lore from the harvest five years ago. It’s Kaldur’s favorite.”
Kalia rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, at the rate he goes through it, he’ll have nothing left soon. He’d smoke his way through our entire vault in one night if he could.”
Gemma was quiet as we strode farther and farther away from the shops and closer to the temple, sitting at the highest peak of the village. It had been built by my ancestors. The same ones who had built our keep so the sweeping lines of stone and the arched roof were similar in style. Beneath the temple, underground, were the shrines. Thousands of them and ever expanding, should a citizen of Laras request one for their bloodline. The shrine of House Kaalium, however, was in a private vault at the back of the temple, at ground level.
“Will I meet your brothers?” Gemma finally asked. I’d flown us up the steps to the temple, telling Ludayn to wait for us below.
“Yes,” I answered her. “They’re coming for the harvest ball. You’ll meet them that night. But they rarely stay long.”
She swallowed and nodded. She didn’t even seem to register the view—the one of the lore fields that stretched to the south. Bright blue and twinkling in the sunlight, nearly ready to be picked and processed. Workers were in the fields, even this early, tending carefully to their precious crops.
“All…four of them, is it?”
Had I never told her how many I had? She must’ve learned it from Kalia.
“Yes,” I murmured. “Kythel and I are the eldest. Then there is Thaine. Kaldur. Lucen. Kalia is the youngest. The only daughter of House Kaalium.”
Her brows furrowed. She leaned against the gray stone of the banister. We were alone up here, not a soul in sight near the temple at this time of the morning.
“I thought you were the oldest son.”
“I am,” I answered. “But Kythel was born mere moments after me.”
“You have a twin ?” she asked, gasping softly, her eyes rounded. “Another one of you ?”
I grunted, fighting the quirk of my lips. “We look nothing alike, I assure you. And are nothing alike. But we are close. Very close.”
Gemma studied me. “So many sons,” she murmured. “Your mother must’ve had her hands full.”
“She did,” I answered. “The curse all Kylorr females must bear.”
“A curse? To have sons?”
“In case you didn’t notice in the village or at the keep, Kylorr females are rare,” I informed her, leaning back against the banister. Not facing the fields like she was but facing the temple. “Males outnumber them nearly four to one.”
“Oh!” she exclaimed, and I watched her brows furrowed. “I…I had wondered why there were so many male keepers. I didn’t realize.”
“There are many females in the village but not necessarily Kylorr females.”
“Like Neela,” she commented softly.
“You were surprised to see another human here,” I guessed. “There are over two hundred humans in Laras alone. Even more beyond our borders. In Kaldur’s territory, there’s even a food shop that sells human food, imported from the Earth colonies.”
Gemma’s eyes widened.
“I…I guess I’m just trying to make sense of it all. You must know the rumors and stories that circulate through the Quadrants about the Kylorr,” Gemma said, her tone soft. She didn’t want to offend me, I realized. “Is that done purposefully? Keeping those rumors alive and well? Making others fear you?”
A loaded question. But my wife was intelligent. She would want to know why .
“We like our way of life,” I told her, lifting my shoulder. “Fear is a good motivator—as good as any—to keep most away. We open up the borders when we have need for it. But residency contracts are rare and hard to come by in the Kaalium. I can’t speak for the rest of Krynn. They govern their nations independently.”
Gemma stared at me. She looked like she wanted to ask me something. That it was just on the tip of her tongue, but she was holding back. And that fascinated me. For someone whose expressions could be as closed off as mine, I could see the indecision and vulnerability on her face, and I wanted to know what was causing it.
“My sisters… Would you…would you consider—”
Before she could finish, I heard a ripple of screams from the south. Shouts of alarm, and suddenly the alarm bells were sounding from the fields, reverberating through Laras.
Gemma’s face paled, her eyes glued to something on the horizon. “ What is that? ”
I growled, a pulse of the rage swimming in my veins, readying to be let free, when I saw it.
“ Kyzaire !” Ludayn shouted in alarm, already racing up the steps of the temple to reach Gemma.
To Ludayn, I ordered, “Get her back to the keep!”
Taking Gemma’s wrist in my hand, I pushed her toward the stairs to meet her keeper. “Go to her. Hurry. ”
“Azur, what—”
“ Now! ” I snarled. I didn’t wait to see if Ludayn reached her. “Go back to the keep and stay there!”
With that, I launched myself off the high peak of the temple hill, using the banister to help propel me into the air, my wings flaring wide and pumping hard.
I veered south.
Toward the kyriv , whose deafening roar echoed in the morning skies as it flew straight toward Laras.