Chapter Thirty-Four
Rhydek
I woke before Vorrashan rose, my body too used to rising to train with the warriors to allow me to sleep any longer. For a moment, all I knew was warmth and the faint weight of Taryn against my side, held tight by my arm and tail.
The room was as quiet as always, the curtain of glowing leaves behind us shining on her pale skin. Her breathing was even, but the bond told me she still felt pulses of pain from her arm and belly whenever she shifted.
The side of her face that Zharrek’s tail had caught looked better than it had when we left Saed’s quarters, but it was still swollen and red, the jagged tear too fresh. The one across her shoulder and down her arm was covered by the sheet, but I knew exactly where it marred her skin.
My gaze dropped lower, to the rise of the blanket over her stomach, and a shadow sent me back to the kennels, with her blood on my hands and the taste of panic thick in my throat.
Swallowing hard, I forced my eyes away.
She was alive. She was healing. That was enough.
Saed had said the skin and muscle would heal quickly, but the blood loss would leave her weak.
Having her tucked against me, feeling each breath and the steady rhythm of her heart, still wasn’t enough to keep the fear from lodging inside my chest like the blade that had pierced her belly.
It waited there, sharp and patient, ready to twist every time she grew too quiet or experienced a jolt of pain.
My tail curled tighter around her leg beneath the sheet, and I couldn’t bring myself to ease it away. There would be no more running from what she had become to me. Confronted with the possibility of losing her had shown me how stupid I had been to waste the time we had.
Content to lie there with her against me for as long as she needed, I almost snarled when the chime at the door sounded.
Reyla knew to wait until I messaged her before bringing food, and it was rare for anyone else to come to my door, especially before dawn.
I was in no mood to tolerate unnecessary interruptions to Taryn’s recovery, and I eased out of the bed, making sure the mattress shifted as little as possible, to let whoever was there know that their life was at risk.
Taryn made a faint sound in her throat and burrowed deeper into the warmth where I’d been.
Leaving her side was harder than it should have been, the bond tugging as I moved into the outer room.
It was a dull ache, not the violent pain of her terror when I was too far away, but enough to remind me that I was walking away from something I had finally admitted I wanted to keep.
The chime sounded again and I snarled as I hit the button to open it. Kael stood in the corridor with Serenya at his side, a small pot with a flower in her hands. The sight of them was enough to soften the snarl to a growl, but not enough to end it.
Kael looked as if he hadn’t slept, his dark hair loose around his shoulders instead of tied back in a warrior’s braid, and his expression was more severe than usual.
Serenya’s smile didn’t hide her worry, her blue eyes rimmed in red, and for a moment my breath caught at the thought of her worrying for my mate.
Kael looked me over, his blank expression hiding what he was surely thinking.
I had taken off the sand crusted korrvek, but still wore the same wrinkled pants I’d been in since before the attack.
There was blood beneath my nails and my scalp itched with the need to wash, but it hadn’t been as important as the need to remain with Taryn.
“You missed the council meeting.”
I stared, breathing through the urge to lash my tail at him.
“I was with my omega, who nearly died.”
Kael’s chin dipped.
“I’m aware, but we need to talk.”
His voice was flat, his kethra controlled, but I saw the strain beneath the calm. He’d always been better than I at hiding his emotions, burying everything under the weight of being Torvakai.
Serenya glanced up at him before looking at me.
“Can I see her? I brought her a flower.”
She held it out as if the silver and purple growth didn’t glow as bright as her kethra. Kael may have been the best at controlling his, but Serenya still broadcast her feelings for everyone to read.
A part of me wanted to refuse. Not because I thought they were any danger to Taryn, but because the idea of anyone near her while she was injured had my instincts screaming.
I didn’t know if she was ready to be seen with the scars, but the same part of me knew Taryn would benefit from knowing the other Human cared enough to come by, and I doubted Kael would accept a refusal.
Stepping aside, I let them enter and shut the door behind them.
“She’s still sleeping. Saed said she needs rest to finish healing.”
Serenya dipped her head with a quiet murmur of thanks.
“I’ll put this on the table then.”
Kael remained beside me as Serenya crossed to place the pot in the seating area we rarely used. Silence stretched, the strain in it making my kethra flare.
“What happened?”
His jaw flexed. There was too much fury radiating from him, too much exhaustion, for the only problem to be the attack on Taryn.
He folded his arms over his chest and looked around the room as if taking note of the changes. Taryn hadn’t added much, but it was enough to soften the space and give it a less utilitarian feel than it had before her.
“Taryn wasn’t the only one attacked.”
My lungs froze, heart pausing as I stared in disbelief.
The alphas who had attacked Serenya in the Markets had gotten away, and I’d assumed the three who slipped into the kennels to attack Taryn were the same, but they were dead, so if there had been more attacks, that meant we were facing a larger problem than we’d thought.
“Who? When?”
“Around the same time Taryn was attacked. It was coordinated.”
The room seemed to narrow as Kael’s gaze held mine, unflinching as he delivered the news.
“There was an attempt on Malrik and Corinne, but it failed. Corinne rarely leaves their meyr’kal, and the attackers couldn’t get inside before Malrik was alerted. He killed one, but two others got away.”
Hearing another was dead should have brought some relief, but it was lost beneath the magnitude of knowing there were more.
That Taryn was still in danger.
“What about Darev?”
Crimson crescents flared for a heartbeat, answering before he spoke aloud.
“He died shortly after his mate.”
The words landed like blows to my gut. For a breath I heard nothing but the rush of blood in my ears.
Darev had followed his Human everywhere as if she were already his before she was even close to her heat, and I had judged him for it.
Thought him foolish. I had tried to resist the draw I felt to Taryn, but Darev had given into it, yet it still hadn’t saved them.
Part of me wanted to snarl at the cruelty of it, but the sound would have caught on the lump in my throat.
If Zharrek hadn’t protected Taryn, I would have been in a pyre next to Darev.
“What happened?”
“The attackers trapped them in one of the back tunnels they used when returning from the surface. He tried to protect Sabine, but they know the omegas are our weakness. They targeted her, although he took two out before…”
He didn’t need to explain. A pair’s souls were tied together when they mated, and one rarely outlived the other. With a fresh bond it might have been possible, but an alpha would never want to outlive his korravai.
“These are more than trezakkars. These are rebels.”
Kael nodded.
There was always opposition to change, and there had been many arguments against allying with the Humans at all, much less taking them as mates, but joining our people had been the best option to assure cooperation on both sides.
They needed ships and protection, and we needed a connection to the Qy’shaeuhl and more omegas.
Both sides were getting what they needed.
But these rebels were murdering the pairs meant to keep the alliance stable. They had started with targeting the Humans before they were bonded, but they knew killing a claimed omega killed her mate. They had turned on the Morrak and were putting us all at risk.
“There should have been six ties by now to anchor the alliance and assure the Human council doesn’t turn on us. Instead, there are only three, with a Human death on our hands and another sent back damaged.”
I glanced toward the bedchamber before I could stop myself. It had been so close to being two Humans dead.
“There are protests,” he continued. “Some are demanding the alliance end now, before more warriors and omegas die. Others are saying the risk of retaliation means we should attack first.”
Of course they were. The Morrak did not respond to blood with patience and understanding.
We responded with claws and fury.
I dragged a hand over my face, exhaustion sinking into my bones.
“What did the council decide?”
Kael sighed, sounding as tired as I felt.
“For now, the alliance continues, but there will have to be changes. Only one new pair at a time. Easier to control who we select to bond a Human, but it means more frequent galas, or we’ll never have enough leverage to maintain peace. I’ll be informing the United Earth Council today.”
It was a safe choice. A rational one. Fewer targets, more control…
But it was also an admission that we had failed to protect what we had already begun. That our people weren’t behind us in our mission to assure the Morrak had a future.
“They think bonds make us weak and Humans will dilute the bloodlines.”
Kael scoffed.
“I want them to witness an omega breaking down when she can’t find her favorite blanket and have to maintain composure, and then say bonds make us weak.”
I huffed. He was right, but our people had viewed bonding as a risk for too long to change their minds after only three.
“They’re not going to stop.”
Kael sobered, straightening. His tail flicking behind him was the only sign of his temper.