Chapter 8 Wrexxon
Wrexxon
I'd left the town square the moment the chaos began. I’d lingered on the platform long enough to see her say goodbye to her sisters and friends, to watch the way she’d comforted them even as her own world crumbled. Then I'd walked away, telling myself over and over that I was not a monster.
Now I stood at the top of the transport’s ramp and watched her approach through the falling snow. She seemed tiny compared to the raiders escorting her, her figure barely visible behind the two striding in front. Even so, it was clear that her back was rigid, and her hands were clenched into fists.
A pang of regret lanced through me. I'd orchestrated this. I’d made sure her name would be called. I’d manipulated the lottery that was supposed to be random. I'd snatched her from her home and her life, and I’d dressed it up as fate.
I brushed aside the regret. I’d had no choice. She’d been targeted. It was either this or be taken by the Zagrath for execution.
You would have taken her anyway.
I ignored the voice inside my head. Did it matter that I would have chosen her anyway? After so long defending my people, was it so wrong to want something for myself?
I scowled as I watched her approach. I still didn't know why Jasmine affected me the way she did, why seeing her in that bakery had knocked me sideways, and why I’d actually been glad that she was the one on the Empire’s kill list.
If the name on the list had been someone else, would I have continued with my plan to rescue them, or would I have contrived a reason to take Jasmine regardless?
I huffed out a breath, the steam forming a cloud in front of my face before dissipating into the cold. Maybe I didn’t want to know the answer to those questions. Besides, it didn’t matter. Jasmine had been the name on the list, and she was also the one I’d had to have.
As Raas, the wanting itself was unfamiliar and dangerous. I didn't let myself want things. Wanting led to weakness, and a warlord of the Vandar couldn't afford weakness.
But apparently, warlords made exceptions.
She was almost to the ramp now. Close enough that I could see her expression clearly through the falling snow. Her jaw was set. Her eyes were blazing. Every line of her body screamed fury barely contained. She was magnificent.
I straightened, preparing to say something that might ease her arrival and assure her that she wouldn't be harmed. That she'd be treated with honor. That I understood her confusion and even her anger.
But whatever pretty words I’d hoped would emerge were cut short by three darting figures that seemed to appear from within the snow squall itself. They were accompanied by no sound, not even footsteps, as the wind whipped away all noise.
Even without warning, my raiders spun to meet the attack with battle axes raised. Before they could strike, I bellowed through the sleeting ice, “No! Do not attack!”
“Gods of old,” my battle chief muttered from behind me. “Those aren’t soldiers.”
“We’ve got blasters,” a female voice cut through the wind. “Release her, and we won’t shoot.”
The other figures, also in white capes that melted into the icy horizon and made them almost impossible to see in the snow, remained just out of reach of the raiders escorting Jasmine, but they moved like animals circling prey.
I did not doubt that the attackers—no doubt female rebels like Jasmine—were armed, since metal glinted at the end of cloaked arms. As much as this attempt to rescue their friend was a delay, I couldn’t help admiring their courage.
It might have been foolish to go up against Vandar, but no one could accuse them of being cowards.
Part of me wanted to take all off them onboard and train them as raiders.
Shaking off that absurd thought, I braced my hands on my hips. “You would break the alliance before it starts?”
“We didn’t sign any contracts,” another voice yelled. “Take the thaw-soft, frostbitten pricks who agreed to this instead.”
“They would make poor war brides,” I said.
“If you think Jasmine will be a better one, you don’t know her.” Pride tinged the hostility in this voice.
I held up my hands, noting that the raiders escorting the war bride were shifting restlessly. We were unused to debating with hostiles, and there was only so long I could converse with the rebels. “We do not want conflict.”
A blaster swung to point at me. “Then you shouldn’t have taken our friend!”
Twisting my head just enough to catch my battle chief’s eye, I told him in a low voice, “Disarm them. Nothing more.”
“It is done, Raas.”
Kolt raced down the ramp, scattering the cloaked figures and knocking blasters from their hands without uttering a single battle cry or swinging his battle axe once.
His movements were so fast, there was little reaction aside from startled yelps and curses.
The last rebel dove forward into a roll, popping up behind him and whirling with impressive dexterity. Still, she wasn’t fast enough for Kolt.
He ducked under her arm and spun her around, sending her blaster flying and yanking her flush to him with a bare arm secured around her waist and the other around her neck. Her white cape flapped around her legs, and her hood had fallen back to reveal startlingly red hair.
Jasmine held out her arms with her palms up. “Stop! Don’t hurt her!”
“We can always take another war bride,” Kolt rasped, tightening his grip on the female in his grasp. He shifted the arm around her waist higher. “I wouldn’t mind having this one for myself.”
She snarled at this, thrashing fruitlessly in his arms. Despite Kolt’s claims, I knew that the last thing my battle chief desired was a human female for himself. I also knew he would not hesitate to drag her onboard if it meant winning the face-off.
“Don’t do this, Skye,” Jasmine called to the woman Kolt held. “I need you to stay here. I need you in charge now.”
Skye grimaced at this, shooting daggers at me with her eyes and giving no indication she was giving up.
Then Jasmine turned to me. “I’ll come willingly. Just release my friend.”
“Do your friends promise not to attack us again?” Kolt asked, even though I knew he didn’t consider the attack much of a threat.
“They promise,” Jasmine answered for them, her gaze not leaving mine.
I gave a single nod, and Jasmine matched it. Then she pivoted back to the woman Kolt held. “Don’t worry, Skye. We’ll see each other again.” She glanced over her head to the others. “We all will. I promise.”
Skye stopped struggling, her fiery expression fading. “Fine.” She attempted to twist her head to look at my battle chief. “You can let me go.”
Kolt leaned down. “What if I don’t want to let you go?”
He was toying with her, enjoying instilling fear in her that same way he reveled in instilling fear in anyone who threatened the Vandar. I cleared my throat roughly, and he caught my stern gaze.
“Do not let me catch you again, female,” he growled. “I might not be persuaded to release you a second time.”
Then he dropped his arms, stepping back and out of her way as she staggered forward. She put a hand to her throat and glared at Kolt as if she’d happily flay him alive.
My battle chief gave her a maddening wink before shifting his attention to the other women who were with her. “Does anyone else want to join the war bride?”
“No,” Jasmine said before anyone could speak. “They’re all leaving now.”
As if released by some invisible force, the figures receded into the storm, although I suspected they hadn’t gone far.
Kolt strode up the ramp just in front of the raiders escorting Jasmine, his expression betraying no clue he’d just rebuffed an attack by female rebels and threatened to keep one as his personal hostage.
Jasmine, who was right behind him, did not hide her emotions quite so well. She stomped up the ramp, quickly closed the distance between us, and jabbed a finger directly into my chest.
"You might have the power to force me onto this ship and threaten my friends,” she said, her voice low and oozing venom, "but you don't have the power to make me like it. And you definitely don't have the power to make me like you."
I stared down at her, genuinely speechless. Maybe her friends were right about her making a poor war bride.
The fury in her eyes was incandescent as was the accusation.
She held my gaze for another burning moment, then pushed past me.
She actually pushed me, her shoulder connecting with my side with enough force that I had to shift my weight slightly.
Then she was moving into the transport without looking back.
I stood immobilized with shock, as my raiders stared at me with identical expressions. No one spoke to the Qeth’rex that way, no one challenged me, and no one in their right mind dared push me aside like I was an inconvenient obstacle.
Then my battle chief opened his mouth, presumably to suggest an appropriate punishment.
“She will not be punished," I said, my voice rougher than I’d intended. "No matter what she says to me. No matter what she does. Make sure everyone understands."
"Raas—" Kolt started to register his disapproval.
"That's an order."
I closed my eyes briefly, trying to assure myself that what I felt was nothing but lust. She was beautiful, desirable, and would provide the type of challenge I craved.
That was all this was, and all it could be.
I was a warlord of the Vandar, and one tasked with fighting off a resurgence of our sworn enemy. I did not have time for anything more.
Retreating into the transport, I registered the ramp rising behind me and the hydraulics hissing as they sealed us in. The dark interior was compact, with just enough room for the raiders to pile in and stand with arms gripping overhead straps and bars.
Jasmine wasn’t tall enough to reach a strap or bar, and her gaze darted nervously around her as the enormous raiders filled the space, moving ever closer and dwarfing her.
When the engines roared to life and the ship lifted off the ground, she stumbled, her arms flying wide for balance.
Her palm flattened against first one then another raider’s stomach, and she jerked her hands back as if they’d touched flame.
Without a word, I moved to her, putting a hand to her waist to keep her from falling.
She glared up at me, and I could see her desire to jerk away.
“Would you rather fall or continue to accost my raiders?” I asked in a low rumble meant only for her.
Her cheeks flamed, but she didn’t pull away from me.
I turned so I was behind her, bracing my legs wide as we rose rapidly through Lexxona's atmosphere.
Through the front glass of the vessel, the colony fell away, the stone buildings melting into the colorless landscape and becoming smaller and smaller until they were just smudges in the endless expanse of snow and ice.
I realized she was watching too. Watching her home disappear and watching everything she knew shrink to nothing while I carried her toward a future she hadn't chosen and didn't want.
Regret twisted in my chest again, sharper this time, but alongside it was something else.
She'd challenged me. Looked at me with fury instead of fear. Pushed past me like I was nothing more than an annoyance rather than the Scourge of the Outer Rim. I'd spent so long being the Qeth’rex, but she’d jabbed her finger into my chest and told me exactly what she thought of me without a single tremor in her voice.
Part of me recognized this was a disaster in the making. Bringing her aboard when she clearly hated me was the last thing I needed. But another part of me was exhilarated.
There was nothing like the thrill of a true challenge. That is, unless she killed me first.