Chapter 13
Gavin
That night, Jhola all but assaulted me with an excessive amount of food again.
The whole time, Khel wouldn’t stop cackling, stating that it was only fair I should suffer like he did back then.
Even Amalia chastising him failed to stop the mockery.
Whenever she would look away, he would flash a shit-eating grin in my direction.
Naturally, his sons were deriving just as much pleasure at my distress as he did.
Only Lhor and Rhadames seemed to have any kind of sympathy for me.
Afterwards, we went on another short walk to help me digest some of it, then shifted to a cavas ride.
The six-legged mounts might have been the offspring of a horse and a dragon.
They possessed a soft leathery skin, with scales on their underbellies that ran up their necks and covered their faces.
Two to three pairs of horns adorned their draconic heads with a long muzzle and razor-sharp teeth.
Deadly retractable claws with vicious talons jutted out of their massive paws.
The creatures came in various colors, from whites to browns, to blacks.
Mine was a beautiful shade of midnight blue with a coppery underbelly. Zhara’s was silver and black.
On Braxia, Uncle Ravik bred the distant cousin of the cavas, called karvelis.
They were lethal battle mounts. Although similar to the cavas, they differed in that their bodies were entirely covered in scales.
Instead of the lizard tail of the cavas, the karvelis had a scorpion tail with one of the deadliest venoms in existence.
Instead of paws, they had hoofed feet whence dagger claws protruded.
And on each side of their faces, fan-like appendages folded inconspicuously alongside their long necks.
But if they opened, woe onto anyone standing in the path of the poisoned darts that would shoot out of them.
We explored the property, discussing the pros and cons of the various locations that might be suitable for us to build our house.
The more we talked about it and the more impatient I felt about actually starting the work.
But we still needed to agree on the design of the house, its layout, number of bedrooms, etc.
Upon our return, Vahleryon lured me into a game of Bakhol. In the simple version of that strategic board game, you moved pawns along a board to capture your rival’s commander. In the advanced version, you had to draw a card before each turn that could help or significantly hinder you.
It wasn’t a popular game in the Eastern Quadrant.
In fact, I hadn’t known about it until Zhara mentioned in passing that it was Khel’s favorite game.
Few people managed to defeat him at it as he mastered it so well.
Naturally, Vahleryon made it his duty to rival his sire.
I’d also taken it as a personal challenge to excel at the game so that I could impress them the day I finally came here.
Unfortunately, I only ever got to train against artificial intelligence.
It lacked the creative thinking of a real person.
For all that, Vahl didn’t mop the floor with me, although he did win all three games we played. Under normal circumstances, my competitive edge might have become annoyed with my repeated failures. But no such feelings ever surged within me. And it stemmed largely from Vahleryon’s own behavior.
He gave me no quarter and was brutal in his attack, but not in his words or actions. Every time it wouldn’t sabotage his own game plan, he would pause to explain what I did wrong, and how I might have defeated him with a different approach.
It quickly dawned on me that this wasn’t a competition for him or a way to humble me.
This was a genuine effort from him at bonding with me.
It also gave him the opportunity to assess my ability to learn from him and my willingness to follow his lead.
Considering I was three years his elder, it made sense he would wonder if I would let my ego blind me.
For years, I had heard what an old soul he was.
And now, I could truly see it. Despite the tremendous power and violence that lurked deep within him, Vahleryon was extremely poised and in control.
He didn’t speak much but observed everything.
His mind constantly analyzed, categorized, and filed away for later.
His intelligence genuinely impressed me.
But his humility and fierce protectiveness of his siblings and friends moved me the most. Even as we played the game, he kept an eye on Rhad and Tharek playing a ball game on the lawn near the pool in case one of them got hurt.
Once, the ball nearly struck Tharek straight in the face.
With a barely visible flick of two fingers, he shifted his youngest brother out of its path.
I doubted Tharek even realized he’d saved him.
Judging by how Tharek taunted Rhadames about missing, I assumed he didn’t.
A discreet smile stretched Vahl’s lips as he performed his next move, on the board as if nothing had happened.
How many more times had he shielded his loved ones like this, unbeknownst to them without seeking praise or acknowledgement?
Every moment spent in his company further fueled my respect for him.
I suspected that he didn’t easily allow people into his inner circle.
But once you were in, I didn’t doubt that he wholeheartedly embraced you.
He had claimed me as a part of his team. And now, the bonding had begun.
I welcomed it.
Halfway through our third and last game, Vahl flinched.
It had been subtle enough that most people wouldn’t have noticed.
For half a second, I could have sworn a drop of blood almost dripped out of his right nostril before retracting back inside.
It happened so quickly that I almost believed I’d imagined it.
However, my extremely sensitive Braxian nose picked up the subtle trace of iron typical to blood.
Something had made him bleed, but he had reversed it thanks to his biokinetic powers.
The cause immediately became apparent when Vahl glanced at his youngest brother with an undefinable smile and a look that implied he knew what he had done.
Tharek gave him a shit-eating grin while puffing out his chest. Only then did I understand that he had launched a psionic attack against Vahl.
Zhara told me about Tharek regularly attempting to kill his oldest brother.
As a Shadow, Tharek had been even more violent, territorial, and bloodthirsty than Vahl.
Only seconds after his birth, he had attempted to kill his Grappa Eryon, then Vahl, perceiving them as other threatening alphas on his territory.
Considering his tremendous power, Tharek could have caused some serious damage.
Until he was able to learn kaa and to control his primal tendencies, Vahl had ordered his youngest sibling to only launch his attacks on him when the urges became too intense as he could handle it, but the others not so much.
While he had quickly learned to control himself, Tharek had never stopped his attacks on his brother. Although Zhara described it as merely a little game between them, I had a serious problem with it. That would need to be addressed.
My thoughts must have shown on my face as Tharek’s expression lost its taunting edge to become more defiant when our gazes met.
In that instant, I realized that he had done it at this specific moment out of jealousy and to reclaim some of his oldest brother’s attention away from me.
That silly brat didn’t realize that he constantly had his brother’s attention, even when he wasn’t aware of it.
This definitely needs to be addressed.
We finished the game without further incident.
“Well, congrats on spanking me raw,” I said with self-derision.
“I wouldn’t put my hand anywhere near your behind,” he quipped with a teasing glimmer in his eyes.
I snorted, making him chuckle.
“That’s right, because that’s my job,” Zhara deadpanned.
It was my turn to laugh while he gave his sister a scandalized look. I was just relieved her parents were far enough not to have heard that.
Vahl appeared to want to say something to chastise her, then changed his mind. He merely made a face at her before shifting his attention back to me.
“You’re actually a very good player. You just need a bit more practice. But do not let my father con you into a game. He will make sure to rub as much salt in the wound as possible,” Vahl warned.
“Duly noted,” I said with a smile.
He tapped my shoulder, made an unimpressed face at his sister, then went to join his other siblings.
“You brat,” I said affectionately.
She giggled, hooked her arm around mine, and led me back inside the house, towards the suite.
“He deserves it,” she said in an unrepentant fashion before sobering. “He likes you.”
“I like him, too,” I said in all sincerity.
“You have no idea how happy it makes me. But I knew that would happen,” she said smugly.
“You did call it,” I conceded.
We chatted amiably the rest of the way. As soon as I closed the door behind us, Zhara dragged me to the bedroom.
With her usual bossiness, she ordered me to strip so that she could do some more healing.
At this point, I didn’t even believe it was necessary anymore—not that I complained about it.
I had recovered most of my lost muscle mass.
I just needed to strengthen them through training.
Since our awkward moment two days prior, we danced around the topic of intimacy without actually addressing it.
At a visceral level, I understood that Zhara was waiting for me to make the first move.
She’d sent enough signals indicating she was ready and willing.
Honestly, at this point, her walking around with a blinking neon sign demanding for me to get frisky wouldn’t make it more obvious than it already was.