Chapter 17 Rathal
seventeen
Rathal
He wasn’t sure what made him angrier. That Callie denied her feelings or that he had put himself in this situation to begin with. Age did not bring patience, it would seem. If he’d just waited like a normal suitor and courted her properly, this perhaps wouldn’t have happened.
He stopped just outside his rooms, his fist striking against the hallway wall with frustrated force, wobbling the heavy pictures on either side of him.
His cock ached. His heart ached. His godsdamned head ached. They’d come so very close to consummating their union on the roof. He didn’t think Callie understood just how close they’d come. When she ran from him, it hit every instinct within him to hunt and conquer his chosen mate.
He’d had to use every civilized cell in his body to pull himself from on top of her when she’d told him to stop.
He hurt down in his bones from the driving need to go back and finish what they’d started.
She’d been ripe with desire. Dripping with it.
Trembling on the edge of giving in and her distrust of him ruined it. Deservingly. Idiot.
Foolish.
Impatient.
Ass.
That’s what he was.
He bared his teeth at the empty hallway and snarled.
He hadn’t been this angry at himself in a very, very long time. Sexually frustrated and furious at his own foolishness were a terrible combination. It pulled at the frayed edges of his control.
That was the only excuse he'd come up with for what happened next.
He’d been deep in his whirling self-pitying thoughts when one of his security guards had walked up on him unexpectedly.
The movement of a black shiny hand that landed on his shoulder was caught just within his peripheral vision and had the unfortunate consequence of casting him out of his own mind.
Suddenly he was standing on the ruined streets of his homeworld.
The smoke rising from mass graves choking the air with its horrifying scent and obscuring the hollowed husks of crumbling buildings.
Plague flags snapped in the hot wind, warning all those who saw them away.
But it was far too late for that. The very air was diseased. Poisoned.
Ara’Ama was in ruins.
Dead.
They were all dead.
Through the smoke, walking in a hazy line towards him, was an Orixas. The species responsible for this genocide.
Rathal acted without thought or reason.
He body hit the enemy soldier with enough force to send them both tumbling to the ground.
“Rathal!” the soldier called, holding his hands up in a calming gesture, but Rathal hated.
He hated this creature with his whole being.
His mother and father were dead. His Empress and her mate and children were dead.
His people were dead. And it was the Unity’s fault.
The A’tens family had done this. The Orixias had done this.
He would kill them all one by one. He would destroy their worlds and burn their histories to the ground.
Dead.
All dead.
He reached for a rock, clutching it in his hand like a totem and brought it down onto the orixas’s head. Blood sprayed.
He drew his arm back and hit the male again. And again. And again...
Someone was screaming in rage. Hands pulled at him. A calming voice begged him to wake up.
He was alone now.
His family was gone.
All alone.
The Orixas had stopped moving but it wasn’t enough that he was dead. Rathal wanted him destroyed. Death would never be enough for what they did.
“Rathal! Rathal, come back to us. You are in a memory. It’s not real.”
More hands dragged him back. He fought viciously, snarling and snapping at them.
“Calm, Rathal. It is alright. You’re safe. You are not alone.”
Lies!
Small delicate hands touched his face, holding his jaws closed with surprising strength.
“Rathal,” a female voice said sternly. “You are on Erral. The Fall is over. Wake. Up. You’ve injured one of your people.”
Som’ae.
He knew her. His friend. A dear friend.
Erral.
He was on Erral and the Fall was over. It happened thousands of years ago.
This burning city wasn’t real. He’d never been to Ara’Ama after the Fall.
He hadn’t seen it with his own eyes. Hadn’t smelled the death and smoke of burning bodies.
Only the drone feeds had provided the vision of horrors that haunted him. This was only in his mind.
The hot smoke faded, no longer burning his eyes. The smell of death was replaced with the spiced scent of his palace.
He drew in a breath, closing his eyes, and when he opened them, the many faces of the RRR team were staring down at him.
The one holding his jaws let her hands fall away.
She was a small, wisened female with tall wide ears and a canid face.
Her familiar worried features helped settle him more firmly in reality.
“Som’ae? I’m sorry. Who did I kill this time?” he asked, mournfully. His throat closed around a tight knot while his heart squeezed painfully in his chest.
Her sharp exhale of breath was full of relief. “No one. Jorrel is alive. Busted up, but alive. You tried to bash his skull in with a statue.”
He winced, jerking away from the words. “I am so sorry. I was not myself.”
Som’ae patted his cheek. “Mating is hard, I know. But do try to maintain control of yourself. You were doing so well.”
The others—sensing that he was back to normal—released their hold on his body. He slid to the floor, slumping against the wall.
“I was emotionally compromised. Jorrel startled me. I’ll go see him at the Healers and apologize. Will the usual compensation suffice?”
Som’ae straightened, taking a step back and nodded her head before waving the rapid response team away. “Yes. That should do. Though you might want to give him a little extra this time. He seems to take the brunt of your episodes.”
Rathal grimaced again. “Yes. He’s an Orixas. It was warned in their employment contracts that I found their species especially triggering. Still, poor Jorrel does always seem to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
This was the third time Rathal had tried to kill the male.
“Yes. But think of the positives. This is excellent training for the new recruits to the Rathal Rapid Response team! They got here once the alert sounded in under two minutes. That’s a new record.”
Rathal had long ago set up a separate security team to intervene when he lost himself to his memories. They were there to protect both Rathal and whoever should have the unfortunate luck to witness his instability. They had gotten very good at their jobs.
How embarrassing.
He hoped Callie didn’t find out about this.
The thought jolted him. He looked up at Som’ae with dawning horror. “What are you doing here? How long was I under? What time is it?”
Som’ae smiled at him, enjoying this entirely too much. “It’s nearly time for the Assembly. If you hurry, you can get dressed in time to beat your Callie to her room.”
She had said that last part too slyly.
He narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean ‘beat her to her room’? She should have already been in her room!”
Som’ae clicked her teeth, her eyes turning devious. “Ah, but the twins decided she needed a distraction…”
Rathal groaned, burying his face in his hands. “They didn’t.”
Som’ae’s small claws clapped together as her musical laughter mocked him.
He was going to choke those two meddling cousins of his until they lost consciousness. And then he was going to shave their manes!
“How bad was it?” he asked, bracing for the worst.
“Soreel challenged Callie to the Pit. Now, now. Stop growling. Your human won! She beat Soreel’s hide bloody and brought you much honor. You should reward her. Perhaps with something carnal that will set your mating in stone, hmmm? I have the wedding contracts drawn up and waiting. Stop stalling.”
He got to his feet in outrage. Not at his Callie winning a fight in the Pit. That made him want to crow from the rooftops and bend her over the railing so the whole godsdamned station could hear her scream, but that Som’ae thought he was the one stalling.
“I’m not the one—you know what,” he said, holding his hands up, “I don’t have time for this. I have to get dressed.”
He turned away from his friends' laughter and stalked into his rooms, muttering under his breath.
“Females. They will be the death of me.”
He made a mental note to get oaths of secrecy from his security team. Callie didn’t need to know about this little lapse. It would give her too much ammunition and she had quite enough already.