Fated to the Alien Dad (Warriors of Tavikh #9)
Prologue
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Three sun cycles ago (give or take)
Zalik
Until the humans arrived, I have always been grateful for the patience Deeka bestowed upon me. This turn, however, the goddess is testing me—along with four of my tribe brothers—as we attempt to teach many of their males—and a single female called Remi—how to fight and hunt.
We have protected them from Krijese attacks when the human ships have landed on Tavikh, but that is the extent of our interaction with them. Yet, on this turn, they are poorly learning how to protect themselves. All because of our new shefira.
Zander rescued London from being killed, and her touch triggered his mating marks to appear. Which means he now considers the humans an extension of our tribe. He wishes for them to thrive, and that is why my four tribe brothers and I were chosen to teach them to hunt and fight.
“Not like that,” Jodah calls out to the male who is holding his training staff incorrectly, despite being shown three times already.
He is the eldest of the five of us, so he has taken the lead, for which I grow increasingly grateful for as the sun moves across the sky.
Eventually, it hits the top of the hillside, and Jodah calls a halt.
The humans all sag in relief. None possess any true skills in regards to battling, but at least of the twenty who started with us early this morning, only two gave up and left.
Perhaps there is hope for those who remained.
“You did…well.” I clap one of the older males on the shoulder. He flinches at my touch, but quickly recovers.
“Thanks.”
His form was poor, and he dropped his training staff almost as often as he kept hold of it, but a lesson I learned from my own baba is that praise does more for someone than criticism.
The humans—with their training staffs—disperse back to their settlement while my tribe brothers and I head across the bari field toward our village.
Evren, Katem, Daveel, and I are all of the same age.
The four of us—plus Rojtar, who stands guard at our village gates this turn—share a tent as we are all unmated.
Other than the kits, we are the youngest Tavikhi who have still not been blessed by the goddess with a keeshla of our own.
There are many unmated females, but we have touched each one in some way and none of them triggered our mating marks to appear.
Hope had been nearly lost that we would ever find mates. At least until the previous turn, when the shefir had walked through the village, proudly displaying his newly acquired marks.
“If Deeka has chosen humans to be our fated mates, who do you think will be next to find his?” Katem asks, despite the fact we have already made our guesses. He had been on scout duty through the night so he missed our discussion on this exact topic when we retired to our tent to sleep.
“Not Benham.” I quickly scan the area to make sure he is not close by. “He will scare away any female with his growls and glares.”
“I think Rojtar will be next,” Jodah replies.
“We will need to find a way to bring some of the females to the village so Kyler might have an opportunity to find his mate,” Evren says. “Other than to scavenge the forest for his healing plants and herbs, he rarely leaves the healer’s tent.”
That might prove difficult since the humans never leave their settlement.
I am not sure what would prompt them to travel to ours.
It is something I will think on, because although Kyler is closer in age to the elders than to us, he is still as worthy of finding a mate as the rest of my Tavikhi brothers.
“Do you think the shefir and shefira will have kits?” Daveel asks. “Talek is the youngest and already nearly ten sun cycles. What if he and the others are the last of us?”
Kits are something I have thought about frequently, even though I am unmated.
I do not remember a time in my life that I have not wanted to become a baba.
My own is the best and I wish for nothing more than to be as good of one as he is.
My nene is not cold or harsh, but she often struggles with her emotions.
She and I are not close, but I care for her.
Daveel mimics the call of a mellenje. Up ahead, a treed scout answers with his own. Several more sound out, each farther away than the last. Rojtar will be watching for our arrival.
I am anxious for the evening meal. My stomach is empty, but I would also like to spend a bit of time with my nene and baba.
Of my closest tribe brothers, only Jodah and I still have ours.
The other four lost theirs during our battles with the Krijese, including Daveel’s baba two warm seasons ago.
Within a single turn, his nene followed.
The moment his soul light extinguished, hers began to fade.
It is the way of fated mates. None of us fear this though, because our soul lights will find each other again when we reach the land of our ancestors.
We step out of the forest, cross the narrow field, and enter the small copse of trees that hides the entrance to our village. Moments later, we reach it. Each of us fists his chest at Rojtar in greeting and respect as we pass.
“I am going to wash up at the river before the evening meal.” Too much dust covers me, and although used to it, I still do not like the gritty way it feels against my skin. While I could use a cloth and some of the water in the two basins we keep filled in our tent, I prefer the fresh, clean river.
“We shall see you at the central fire,” Evren says.
My tribe brothers often tease me about my cleanliness habits, but it is never done in a malicious way so I do not let it bother me.
Each of us has qualities that make us unique.
After a quick stop at the supply tent for a handful of the berries we use to cleanse ourselves with, I make my way down to the riverbank.
I quickly remove my leg coverings and enter the warmth of the water.
All Tavikhi know how to swim. It is a safety skill we are taught as kits.
While the river is calm and flows slowly, it still presents a danger.
Once I’m satisfied with my cleanliness, I return to the bank and beat my leg coverings against a large nenuphar bush to relieve them of the dust as well.
I step into them, adjust my tail through the hole in the back, and make my way toward the central fire.
The scents of spiced meat and cooked grains reach me.
My stomach clenches with hunger, and I regret not taking some jerky to the human settlement.
Although my nene and baba reside with the other elders where they have made their own smaller village within our larger one, they still join all the tribespeople in the evening. When I reach the fire, only a portion of our people have arrived so far.
“Feeling better, Zalik?” Evren asks as I join him and our other tribe brothers.
“Aye.”
“I wonder what your keeshla will say when she discovers you wash far more than anyone I have ever known?” Daveel asks and nudges Katem.
“She will thank Deeka she wasn’t blessed with a male who doesn’t spend enough time washing and smells like the backside of a dreri because he is too worried about the cleansing habits of others.”
All my tribe brothers laugh, including Daveel.
“My keeshla will love the smell of a dreri’s backside,” he launches back.
“Then we know the goddess will have chosen well for you.”
Daveel puffs out his chest as though he has been given a great compliment. Just then, I spot my baba striding toward the fire. I clap Jodah’s shoulder.
“I will speak with you all later.”
They nod farewell, and I leave them to their conversation. I meet my baba more than halfway and fist my chest.
“Greetings.” I glance behind him. “Where is Nene?”
“She has not been feeling well this turn. I have asked the healer to look in on her while I join you for a meal before I return to sit with her.”
This is the third time this moon cycle that my nene has been ill, each instance lasting longer than the previous.
“Are you sure you do not want to remain with her?”
“I tried.” He shakes his head. “But she insisted I take my meal with you, and you know how determined she can be.”
“Aye.” It is one of her most positive and yet negative qualities.
He places an arm around me. “Come. Let us eat and you can tell me how your first turn teaching the humans went.”
We rejoin the others in the line that has already formed to be served. Once we have our meal, Baba and I find a bench big enough for the two of us to sit to eat.
“One of the human fighters is a female.”
His brow bones shift. “A female? I am surprised the shefir allowed her to join. The few remaining tribe sisters we have that still hunt and fight have been doing so since they were kits. Plus, the humans are far more fragile than Tavikhi.”
“From what Benham said, she did not give Zander a choice. She demanded to be allowed to learn.”
“She sounds like a fierce one.”
I nod. “Of all the humans, Remi learned the quickest and demonstrated the most potential.”
“Perhaps this Remi might be your keeshla? Having a fierce mate who can join you on hunts would be a blessing.”
While she is an attractive female—for a human—I did not feel drawn to her in that way.
As though she had been placed in my path for a reason.
No thread tugged at my chest. Perhaps those things do not necessarily happen.
Except, I believe that there will be some indication when I meet the female who is my fated mate.
“Perhaps,” is all I say, though.
The rest of our meal is broken by occasional conversation, but it is over quickly, as my baba rushes to finish so he can return to my nene.
Normally, I would sit with the elders for a brief time and enjoy a single drink of their special brew, but there is a sudden restlessness inside me.
I do not know where it comes from, but its presence is large and insistent.
Instead of joining the elders or returning to my tent with my tribe brothers, I roam through the village and along the base of the hillside behind it.
Even as the first moon breaks the horizon, I am still walking with thoughts of mates running through my head.
Hopefully, I, too, will be blessed with a keeshla of my own soon.