Chapter 4 #2
“That was a lot of rage,” Khel said, his gaze assessing.
My stomach dropped as I immediately understood the underlying worry hidden in his words.
“I was fighting a swarm of enemies,” I replied in a self-evident tone, my emphasis on the word enemy making it clear I would never act with this level of savagery with an ally, least of all with a loved one.
He stared at me, his dark purple eyes without sclera or pupils seeming to see all the way into my soul.
“Computer, display still image of the last frame of Gavin Aldriss’ final training sequence,” Khel said, his gaze still locked with mine as he issued the vocal command to the holodeck.
Too many mangled bodies to count littered the ground all around us. I barely repressed a flinch as I took in the macabre spectacle. I’d been vaguely aware of breaking limbs. However, the number of dismembered corpses made even me feel uneasy.
“Is that how you fight?” Khel asked, a challenge in his voice.
Despite my unease at my own savagery, I lifted my chin defiantly. “Normally no, I don’t. But if needed, I would have no qualms doing it.”
He lifted a disbelieving eyebrow while his Geminate narrowed his electric blue eyes at me. In that instant, it felt like a déjà vu of my earlier encounter with Vahl and Rhad. They were truly a younger version of their sires.
“When is that ever needed?” Khel demanded, waving his hand at the carnage.
I shrugged.
“That’s not an answer,” Khel said, his tone and gaze hardening.
My cheeks heated. That was indeed not an appropriate answer to a superior officer. I was acting like a brat.
“It was needed when assassins tried to murder our Magnar,” I said firmly. “I’m sure you’ve heard of the events on Haven, which led to Keran’s rescue?”
Both males nodded.
“We have,” Lhor conceded. “We were also told that you ripped the assassin’s head right off with your bare hands.”
“That’s correct,” I replied in a neutral tone.
Lhor tilted his head to the side, his gaze assessing. “You were eighteen at the time. Granted, it occurred three years ago, but you seem surprisingly unfazed by such a violent kill. Have you no qualms with taking a life?”
“When it comes to protecting those I love, I don’t play,” I said in a tone that brooked no argument. “Keran is more than a king to me. He is like a cousin… a brother even. Anyone who would attempt what they tried to do to him deserves no mercy and shall get none from me.”
“You have a lot of violence within you,” Khel mused aloud, although he seemed to be speaking to himself rather than to me.
“I am a Warrior,” I countered with confidence. “On the field and against my enemy, I will be vicious and undaunted. But even under the influence of a berserker’s blood rage, I’m not controlled by my emotions.”
“So you say,” Khel challenged.
“So says everyone,” I retorted. “Surely Aunt Mercy and Uncle Ghan reported to you regarding me?”
“It’s First Officer Ghan,” the General replied with a hard stare and a warning in his voice.
I lifted my chin. “It is while I’m serving under his command. But outside official functions—which corresponds to the many years I have interacted with him—he’s Uncle Ghan for me. After all, I’m sure your own children call you Dad at home, not General.”
His gaze hardened even more, but I refused to be intimidated.
“Don’t be a smart ass with me,” he ground through his teeth.
“I’m not trying to be,” I said in a firm but factual tone. “However, I suspect that you will find fault with any answer I give you. If I state the facts, I’m a smart ass. If I don’t answer, I’m weak and easily intimidated.”
“Your answer conveyed neither of those two impressions,” he countered. “Instead, it makes you come across as arrogant and judgmental.”
I snorted. “There’s a fine line between arrogance and confidence. Although I won’t deny that I can be both depending on the circumstances, right now, it is the latter you should perceive.”
Lhor raised an amused brow. “Whatever you may want to project doesn’t dictate how others perceive it.
While I personally don’t think you were being a smart ass with your original answer, I can’t deny there was an undeniable sliver of snark in it.
But I agree with my Gem that you come across as arrogant. ”
“If that’s the case, then I apologize. It’s not my intention. But I must admit that I’m quite irked by the situation,” I said, my gaze flicking towards the General as I spoke that last sentence.
“Is that so?” he asked, narrowing his dark purple eyes.
“Of course. But I get it. I’m also extremely protective of my only sister. And at the risk of sounding arrogant again, note that despite my frustration, I can handle that offense.”
This time the same shock appeared on both males’ faces.
“You can? As opposed to who else? And what offence are we talking about?” Khel asked.
“Your daughter and I are old enough and mature enough to train with the elite peacekeeping force under your command. But somehow, we aren’t mature enough to assess for ourselves if we can and should date each other?” I challenged.
Khel’s face closed off, and he narrowed his eyes at me, while Lhor took on that unreadable expression again. To my surprise, he was the one who addressed me instead of the General.
“What makes you think that you are good enough for our daughter?” Lhor asked, his voice laced with genuine curiosity devoid of any disdain.
“Fate,” I replied with conviction. “We found each other halfway across the galaxy when we were still young children. In the sixteen years that followed, our commitment to each other never waned or faltered. Do not take my word for it. Ask your firstborn son. He looked at my soul and saw with his own eyes the irrefutable truth that your daughter and I are perfectly Attuned.”
Lhor’s face softened, while Khel pursed his lips, his expression a mix of resignation and displeasure.
“I have remained steadfast and faithful to Zhara since the first day our souls touched,” I continued with determination. “No hurdle thrown in our way will ever sway my resolve. However, I would strongly suggest you avoid alienating her over the inevitable with stunts like this.”
Khel immediately stiffened, repressed anger fleeting over his features. “Do you think you can tell me how to raise my own daughter?” he asked in a dangerously low voice.
“Obviously not,” I said with a dismissive wave of my hand. “But Zharina feared something like this would happen, and that she might grow to resent you for it.”
The glimmer of pain that flashed through his purple eyes, quickly hidden, instantly had my chest constricting. The sympathetic glance Lhor cast towards his Geminate seemed to confirm my worry that the General and my mate had an ugly clash over this impromptu mission.
“Zhara loves both of you,” I said in a soothing voice.
“She literally worships the ground you walk on. Over the years, she’s spoken so often of her Dad and Papa that it almost feels like I know you.
I would have been disappointed had you not been fiercely protective of her.
I also do not expect you to simply trust me to do right by her.
Watch and be ready to intervene should it ever be required—not that it will—but please, do not try to control her. It is a game that no one will win.”
Khel opened his mouth to respond, but movement at the other end of the room caught my attention.
Curious as to what I was looking at, he glanced over his shoulder, only to audibly groan.
I barely repressed a snort at the expression that settled on both males’ faces.
The fearsome, apex alpha that was General Praghan suddenly looked like a teenager whose parent had just caught him red-handed disobeying after having been thoroughly warned of the dire consequences should they misbehave.
Lhor didn’t seem to know whether he also wanted to groan, be amused, or run for the hills.
With a graceful but determined gait, their mate Amalia was quickly closing the distance between us.
By the look on her face, she was ready to give her husbands a stern talking to.
A malicious part of me eagerly anticipated bearing witness to them getting berated.
But another was too busy marveling at my future mother-in-law.
A powerful emotion surged through me as she drew closer.
Her resemblance to my Zhara was uncanny.
At age forty-one, Amalia Praghan barely looked a day older than twenty-five.
Had she been standing next to my woman, people could easily have mistaken them for sisters.
Her features were almost identical aside from Amalia having a slightly pointier chin, golden brown skin, and no crihnin on her forehead.
She also seemed to share her daughter’s height of 6’2.
To my surprise, although she also was of the Warrior breed, she kept her dark brown hair with a hint of red flowing loosely on her back instead of the usual single braid.
While it would be deemed excessively long by galactic standards, her knee-length hair was much shorter than the ankle-length that the Warriors who regularly partook in combat kept theirs.
“Are you two bullying this young man?” Amalia asked in a disgruntled tone in lieu of greeting as soon as she reached us.
“Of course not,” Khel said, sounding defensive.
Lhor smiled with a mischievous expression as he shook his head.
The General extended a hand towards his mate, but she slapped it away as she continued marching directly to me. Khel scrunched his face at his wife’s back, making me bite the inside of my cheeks not to smile.