Chapter Thirty-Five
Kael
The sand settled around us in a slow hiss, grains sliding down my arms and pooling in the hollow of Rath’s throat.
I had him.
My knees pinned his wrists. One hand was locked around his tail, the other gripped his neck.
The hardened tip of my tail dug into the vulnerable flesh beneath his ribcage, a thrust away from piercing his heart if I didn’t rip his throat out with my claws.
He’d bucked and tried to get free, but my position was perfect.
His chest heaved beneath me, slick with oil and sweat, streaks of blood leaving sticky trails on his flesh. His breaths came fast and hard, his teeth bared in a feral grin even as his pulse jumped beneath my palm.
I leaned forward, letting my weight shift to the hand pinning his throat. The crowd roared, waiting for death or submission.
Those were the only options.
The sound rolled over us like a storm, furious and hungry, vibrating through the stone and sand alike. They knew I had won, they only waited to see what became of Rath.
He laughed. It was wet and rough, spitting blood at the corner of his mouth as he craned his head back into the sand, eyes closing.
“Do it,” he rasped. “Prove your strength.”
My claws flexed without permission.
The instinct was there. Kill the enemy who caused Serenya to suffer for the trial. End the threat to her and my position as Torvakai. Spill his blood into the sand and let the arena drink its fill.
It would be easy. It was allowed. Expected, even.
I felt Serenya through the bond, anxious and worried and scared, her presence a blazing ache beneath my ribs. The moment our link reawakened I’d felt it all. Her fear, pain, and relief, all tangled together.
She was watching.
Korvashan was watching.
Rath’s lips pulled back farther, his voice dropping so only I could hear him beneath the roar.
“She’s afraid,” he whispered. “You feel it, don’t you? All that softness bleeding the strength from your muscles, making your hands shake. Holding you back when you should strike.”
I tightened my grip, shoulder throbbing as it continued to bleed. I forced my breathing to deepen, slow. Forced control to triumph over instinct.
“This isn’t about her.”
Rath barked a laugh before coughing again.
“Everything is about her now. That’s the problem with omegas.”
He strained against my hold. Not to escape, but to test me. To feel how much room I’d give him.
“You’re right. Everything is about her now. Creating a better world, a stronger people, for her.”
Eyes glaring into mine, he snarled.
“I challenged you because someone had to. Because Torvakai can’t be weak and ruled by instinct and still call himself fit to lead.”
I leaned closer, keeping my voice even.
“And yet here you are. Pinned. Waiting for mercy.”
His eyes flashed.
“Mercy is weakness.”
“No. Mercy is choice. Strategy.”
I leaned back, easing the pressure on his throat. The distinction mattered. Killing him might make others think I was still unfit. Still controlled by instinct. Sparing him would prove I was Torvakai, capable of choosing the greater benefit to Morrakan.
The crowd wanted blood. Rath wanted absolution through death, either mine or his, to prove him right. The Ravak’torr demanded truth.
And Serenya—
Her fear lingered in my chest even though I had the advantage, bright enough to make my heart ache, but she didn’t fear for herself.
She feared for me.
Beneath it was her trust. Fierce and absolute, she trusted me to do the right thing.
I exhaled slowly.
“You don’t fear death, but you fear being wrong, Rath. You fear losing your honor.”
His jaw clenched.
“You believe bonding weakens us,” I went on. “That choosing one life over the many erodes the whole.”
He spat blood into the sand beside his shoulder.
“It already has.”
I smiled then, baring my teeth.
“You’re wrong.”
The crowd had quieted to hear us, and my words carried. They waited in tense, breathless silence to see what I would do.
I pulled my tail away from his chest and released his throat. He was still pinned by my weight, but I no longer threatened him.
“I could kill you, Rath. By the laws of Ravak’torr, no one would challenge it.”
His breath hitched despite himself.
“But I won’t rob the Morrak of a distinguished Torashden.”
I rose in one smooth motion, ready for an attack, and stepped back. Rath dragged in a ragged breath and rolled to his side, coughing sand and blood. Zha’Torin waited behind the gates, watching for any sign of renewed aggression. They wouldn’t let us out until one submitted.
Rath pushed himself up onto one elbow, staring at me with disbelief lacing his anger.
“Why would you spare me?”
A ripple went through the crowd as they asked the same question. Was it weakness?
I lifted my chin, voice carrying through the arena.
“Torashden Rathven Kor’seth, you challenged my leadership to protect Morrakan. That instinct is honorable.”
Rath stiffened, climbing to his feet with his eyes locked on me.
“You have lost to me but proven your strength and loyalty to Morrakan. You will retain your rank.”
Murmurs spread like wildfire as I stepped closer to him.
“You will leave at first light to take outer patrol along the Skarashk drift routes, but when you return, you will retain your position on the council.”
Rath’s breath punched out of him.
It was a term of exile, without being Drazh’kara or Dravkai’kiren. He retained his honor, without the chance to become a threat to my plans. Being on patrol would keep him from being able to stir others to his side.
“You don’t get to cage me.”
His snarl was quiet, meant only for me. My lips ticked up on one side as I let out a laugh.
“You caged yourself. In duty. You cannot not abandon your responsibility to Morrakan.”
For a long moment, he said nothing, chest heaving as he stared at me. Then, slowly, he bowed his head.
Not true submission, but acceptance.
Motion above caught my eye and I turned to see Teylan step forward to the railing of a viewing booth, but he wasn’t who I focused on.
“The Ravak’torr is concluded,” Teylan announced. “The Torvakai stands.”
The roar that followed was deafening. I didn’t look at Rath again as I moved toward the closest gate. Serenya stood frozen beside Teylan, hands clenched white around the railing, eyes bright with tears she hadn’t let fall.
The bond hummed between us, a bridge that would bring our people together. And perhaps something that would no longer be seen as weakness by mine.
By the time I made it through the gate and up into the stands, Teylan had disappeared, which was probably for the best. I knew he had done what was needed to make sure the Ravak’torr was considered fair, but despite being someone I considered a brother, I was furious with him.
Now was not the time for the conversation we needed to have about involving my tavehn in things that caused her distress.
Saed slipped out of the booth as I strode through the opening, but I only had eyes for Serenya. Instincts still gripped me, the fear of having lost her too fresh in my mind. I needed the most basic kind of assurance that she was safe and still mine.
Our kethra reflected from the stone walls and the crystal overhead as we crashed into one another. My mouth was on hers before she could utter more than a whimper, arms locking around her, and I snarled over the other scents mingling with hers on the wind.
I wanted her to be the only thing I could see, scent, hear, and feel, and I wanted the bitter notes of fear erased from her sweetness.
My vorran had stiffened the moment I saw her, and I couldn’t help rocking my hips against her soft belly. She was all curves and cushion to my hardness and sharp angles.
She ripped her lips from mine, gasping.
“Kael, I’m so sorry.”
I growled, digging my fingers into her ass.
“You have nothing to be sorry for. I thought I lost you.”
Her chest hitched and I felt the ache she’d experienced at the same thought.
I claimed her mouth for another desperate kiss as I backed her to the railing, caging her with my body. Instincts drove alphas to do two things, to fight and to rut, and I’d already done the first.
My desire spilled into her, returning through our link twice as strong. The scent of her slick overpowered everything else, and my tail dipped between my legs to stroke the place where hers joined. The place I wanted to fill.
She pulled her mouth away again and I couldn’t help the growl that vibrated from me. I’d needed the dominance of my alpha side to get through combat, and it was too late to pull it back.
“I need you, Kael.”
Her words had my heart pounding as my growl rumbled on. I was smeared in oil, and sweat, and blood, but none of that mattered with my omega in my arms again.
She needed me the way I needed to have her. The bond was a gift, not a weakness.
I forced my hands from her body to the railing.
“I need you too, but I can’t be gentle right now, veyrari.”
She licked her lips, the link between us buzzing. I couldn’t give her the option to deny me, but I had to give her warning.
Her hands moved between us, and I looked down to see her pushing her clothing off her lush hips. The scent of slick grew dizzying, and I groaned as I saw the gloss of it smeared on her thighs.
“I don’t need gentle, Kael. I need you.”
My breath caught, and then I was kissing her again. Our hands were greedy, touching and squeezing, my tail coiled around her calf so she couldn’t escape. Her breathy little moans and sighs had my vralekh leaking and my knot threatening to swell already.
I hissed when her hand wrapped around my vorran, her cool touch shocking after the heat and sand. My kethra pulsed in time with hers, out of control, but I didn’t care if anyone saw. This was my korravai, my shael, and I was allowed to lose control for her.
I reached down and gripped her thighs, lifting and spreading her. She let out a squeal, a surge of fear fluttering in our link as I sat her on the rail, but I would never let her fall. She was mine to protect, and please, and keep, because the bond was eternal, and she was mine.
My gaze locked on the mark I’d left on her neck as my vorran brushed between her folds. She tilted her hips, my vralekh catching at her entrance, and she whined as she tried to pull me in with her arms and legs.
“You are mine, Serenya. My tavehn. My shael.”
She didn’t say the words back because all she could do was gasp as I surged into her, but I felt them. Her inner walls fluttered around me as I thrust again, pressing my teeth to my mark.
Neither of us cared about the mess I was smearing on her, my wounds, or the crowd of Morraki still in the tiers opposite us. Our only focus was where we joined, physically and through the bond, and reaffirming the other was still there.
I held her in place, balanced on the railing overlooking the Veyr'vokkar arena as I pounded into her at the frantic pace our need demanded. The tension in our muscles grew, breaths coming short as we neared our peak together.
“You are my meyr’kal now, shael.”
I murmured the words against her neck before sinking my teeth into her flesh to claim her again. She was mine, and I was never going to let her go. I wouldn’t abandon my duty to Morrakan, but my duty to her was just as important, and I would find a way to balance them both.
My knot swelled when I jerked her down onto me once more, pulling her from the railing. She shuddered, crying out as her release overtook her.
I dropped to the cushioned bench behind me as I joined her, filling her womb with my seed.
One day, it would take. Her belly would swell with my child growing inside her, and then there would be living proof of our connection.
A piece of both of us would continue even after we went to Zeyd, an anchor for the alliance between Humans and the Morrak.
But before then, we needed to take care of the threats we faced.
And we would do that, just as soon as my instincts were satisfied that I would never live another day without Serenya in my heart, and on my knot.