Chapter 28
The females watching him within the chamber unsettled him, but even more so as he felt his distress slowly increasing.
The longer he was separated from Alex, the more his anxiety grew.
The absence of her scent or having her safely within his nest was wreaking havoc with his instincts.
It was like a restless itch burrowing beneath his scales, demanding that he hunt her and reassure himself by basking in her scent.
He debated making an escape and hiding from his mother’s wrath until he had the opportunity to descend into the elder palace below.
It would certainly be preferable to enduring the cluster of females he was once again being subjected to.
The tip of his tail twitched, and he glanced over at Jathella, weighing his odds of getting by her.
As if anticipating the direction of his thoughts, her head turned, and she met his gaze, her eyes narrowing as she returned his regard.
The message was clear. She did not care much about his personal motivation or even his choices, but she would not allow him to bring shame on her and her station.
He would most certainly not get past her.
His gavo flicked with barely suppressed frustration.
It appeared that he was stuck for the time being.
Part of him wished he had taken the opportunity Jathella had previously given him.
But no, that was his anxiety speaking. He just hated being caught there amid so many females fanning their pheromones at him in hope of enticing him to act despite the high queen’s tight control of the proposed breeding.
It was uncomfortable, but at least he was not being accosted by females in the corridors of the palace.
After what happened, Zathexa had already pre-emptively forbade further private escorts to his nest until a new, unknown location could be decided upon.
It was also why she was insisting on holding court again for the pairing.
He smothered an aggrieved sigh as he watched and waited.
The way she was scrutinizing the gathered females told him all that he needed to know—she was going to use the incident to keep the matter of breeding more directly under her control.
There would be no more private escorts. Not when the entire palace was gossiping about the matriarchs intentionally attempting to sabotage each other.
It did not take long to reach his mother’s ear and, uncomfortable current situation aside, Therxian had no intention of informing her otherwise.
She was displeased now, but she would be furious to learn that her eldest offspring was intentionally sabotaging the council’s plans.
Probably less because he escaped and more because it led to the chaos he was currently witnessing.
Whereas previously there was a constrained edge of competitiveness between the noble families that had kept them tightly reined and under control, now every female of age and her mother line was bristling with hostility.
And this time, not even his mother could control it.
They still deferred to her in her presence to a certain extent, but the hum of angrily vibrating gavos filled the royal court was a loud demonstration of how little control she truly had.
Zathexa demanded order and peaceful assembly within the palace, and yet the females whipped aggressively in response to those nearest to them fanning their pheromones.
It was ridiculous and utterly ineffectual as the scent rolled off him without any obvious effect—and yet still they tried to lure him for capture.
It was pitiful, and it represented everything that those of the shinara had shunned the territorial and aggressive males among their species for.
The difference was that such tendencies that resulted in the males being ejected from the colony into the upper caverns were glossed over and deemed acceptable among the females while they collectively pretended that it did not exist. The reality was laughable.
If he were not at the center of it all, he might have found it amusing to witness the entire court coming down on itself in a shocking display of its true nature—a nest of violence.
A female to his left proved his point as she started and spat with an angry hiss at the female passing close by her.
The female was posturing territorially, her gavo sharply raised as she rounded on the smaller, younger female approaching him.
Ferinia. Again. Therxian swallowed back a groan and almost felt pity for the younger female who immediately rolled out of Ferinia’s immediate reach, her gavo shooting upward aggressively.
She looked back toward her matriarch, and the elder female gave her a stern look, her gavo inching upward in silent encouragement.
It seemed that even the elder of her family was in support of this bestial behavior.
He was not surprised. This was certainly not new behavior among females in the shinara, though he was unclear as to how deeply the poison ran.
He watched expressionlessly as the small female inclined her head in silent agreement before whipping around with a venomous hiss.
Ferinia did not wait for the other female to initiate an attack.
She launched herself forward, the superior mass and length of her tail colliding with the younger, more delicate female in a crushing blow.
Her tail wrapped tightly around her, her claws stabbing deep into the smaller frame of her torso.
The smaller female shrieked in pain, drawing the attention of every other female to the conflict at hand.
A volley of shrill snarls and shrieks began as females launched themselves into the midst of it, each suddenly very determined to be the victor as they fought whole-heartedly, clawing and whipping at each other.
Therxian retreated into a sheltered corner, his eyes following the chaos.
Zathexa straightened upon her throne, her gavo fully extending as her wings expanded around her authoritatively. “Stop! Stop this at once!”
His gaze shifted to her and then back to the bitter battle between the females.
The matriarchs were waiting, a soft hum filling the chamber with their growing excitement as they watched from the side-lines.
He frowned in response, his mood darkening with suspicion.
It wasn’t outright rebellion against his mother’s rule, but it was clear that they were no longer of a mind to heed her.
It took no special deduction on his part to understand what was happening.
The noble families, impatient with the process of selection, had intentionally taken the selection of the next queen mother into their own hands, where the strongest and most cunning would grievously injure or annihilate her rivals for the right to breed the next royal line.
Shrieks of pain filled the throne chamber as blood was drawn, spraying in long, thin arcs and splattering on the dark stone.
It did not remain undisturbed, however, but was smeared and dragged across the floor in a painting of madness on the females whipped across the floor and rolled together as they tussled.
The blood smeared and stained their scales and wings.
More than one female wore it painted across her face as she grinned savagely before tearing into her opponent
It sickened him, reminding him of the careless, brutish displays in the haga, but far worse.
So much for the civilization of the shinara.
The females who ruled the deep mocked the Vehal, but not once while dwelling among the Vehal had he witnessed anything that came even close in comparison.
The Vehal males could get a bit territorial and possessive in claiming their mates, but it was rare that blood was ever drawn...
and it was certainly not carried out casually and without repercussion.
“I said, enough!” Zathexa bellowed. Her tail whipped into the small table by her throne, sending the dishes flying with the strength of her strike.
Despite her age, his mother was impressive in size and power.
She had risen to her full height, dwarfing many of the females of her court, her golden scales almost luminous in the lightning as her coiled tail toppled the tables, scattering stone and metal bowls filled with fruit and succulent food everywhere.
The crash of the table and everything on it sent a vibrational shockwave through the room, effectively quelling the combatants into a state of shock as they collectively turned their heads toward her.
Silence fell over them, punctuated by the steady drip of blood hitting the stone floor.
Zathexa’s gaze roved over them, a sneer baring her fangs with disgust. “Just look at yourselves,” she hissed.
“This is the future of the noble families... our future matriarchs?” She bit out a harsh, hissing laugh that made more than one of the younger females recoil with a wince of shame. “Pathetic.”
Good. Let them see themselves clearly. But he was certain that not one—not even his mother—would be willing to look close enough to see that the days of the noble matriarchs’s power within the shinara were coming to a long-overdue end.
“My queen,” Ferinia protested, but she immediately fell silent when Zathexa turned abruptly toward her, her gavo snapping. Or perhaps it was because the tip of Jathella’s velkat skimmed Ferinia’s neck, as if summoned by an invisible command from the queen.
“Do not push my patience, Ferinia,” Zathexa spat.
“I was sympathetic toward you for having your mating opportunity interrupted, but this pitiful display has changed everything. You cannot so easily escape suspicion now. I would like to see you satisfactorily prove that the previous incident was not staged so as to lead up to this moment. None of you can,” she snarled as she rounded on the gathered females.
“Queen Zathexa, it is not what it seems,” one of the elder matriarchs attempted to cajole. “They are merely strong, willful young females coming into their prime. This competitiveness is just the actions of healthy, powerful Seshanamitesh females.”
Zathexa’s eyes narrowed on her. “To act as the males our foremothers escaped?” she hissed. “Quarrelling and drawing blood amongst ourselves.”
The words had a ripple effect, sending another wave of shock among the females. To Therxian’s surprise, several of the younger females wilted at the comparison, shame and embarrassment flooding their faces. They were a small minority compared to those who reacted angrily, but it gave him hope.
“These are extenuating circumstances,” another matriarch objected as she drew forward from among the crowd of observers.
She gestured to the bloodied females. “Never before has our shinara encountered a situation in which a queen did not have an heir. In times past, it was normal for there to be several young royal females to nest together as maiden attendants to their royal sister, and to be prepared to take her place if needed. And yet for four generations the royal line has weakened and supplied fewer daughters. It is only natural that our daughters seek to establish themselves by the rules of nature, in which the strongest and most capable reinvigorate the failing royal line.”
Therxian froze, his gaze fastening on his mother. The high queen stiffened as the weight of their words settled over her. Her face hardening, she trembled with fury.
“Get out,” she spat. Her head whipped toward Jathella, a long furious hiss escaping her. “Jathella, get them out of my palace before I wipe out the noble line completely for their impertinence. And you would be first, Jighera.”
A look of surprise crossed the matriarch’s face, her gavo taking on a dim, sickly hue with her shock. “You would not—”
“Do not test it,” Kitanara hissed as she drew over to the female’s side.
Jighera’s mouth snapped shut, and the female reluctantly retreated in response to the small wave of Kitanara’s velkat.
And she was not the only one. Though there was a quiet hiss of protest that arose among the nobles, the guards that had taken position throughout the crowd likewise steered the matriarchs and their daughters toward the exit of the throne chamber.
It was not until the last one was removed that Zathexa sank onto her throne and waved tiredly in his direction.
“There is no need to hide yourself here, Therxian,” she sighed. “But this madness is most certainly out of hand. It is upsetting. Return to your nest. I will summon you once I have decided what is to be done.”
“Mother,” he murmured as he slid from his concealment within the shadows. “Perhaps this is not the way.”
She dipped her chin wearily. “The right way has become less clear to me. I am tired, Therxian. Go now so that I may return to my nest to think and rest.”
“As you say.” He inclined his head and turned away. He hesitated, though, and turned on his tail to look back at his mother. “Do you regret it, Mother?”
He said nothing more. He turned away, carrying in his heart and mind the image of grief captured briefly on his mother’s face. He had not needed to say more. She knew of whom he spoke, and yet she still refrained from asking what was clearly in her heart to ask.