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My old friend made a discreet exit as Anton walked around his desk to approach me. He gestured toward the comfortable leather chair in the sitting area across from his desk. My eyes flicked towards the red Empire chair in front of his desk. I’d actually looked forward to sitting in it, considering the first time I’d visited this office, my sister had occupied that Terran antique.
I almost felt guilty walking with my knee high, black leather boots on the shaggy beige carpet. I settled down on the brown, leather couch and crossed my legs. Anton’s dark eyes flicked to the side of my exposed thighs, taking in my Veredian markings there, his gaze moving up to the ones along my exposed arms and neck before locking eyes with me. An amused smile stretched his sensual lips.
My cheeks heated slightly. I’d always been a bit of a flirt, especially when faced with a man attractive by my standards. However, this time, I hadn’t meant to make a move or flaunt my assets. Anton was happily mated, and I respected such vows. The absence of lust in his stare should have stung my pride. Instead, it further increased my respect for him. From all accounts, he and his wife had had a tumultuous start to their relationship, one that would have irrevocably broken most couples. Yet, after five years of marriage, their devotion to each other was a thing of legend.
“May I offer you something to drink?” Anton asked.
I shook my head. “No, thank you. I’d rather keep my head clear and endeavor to make a good impression.”
Anton chuckled and took a seat in the chair across from me, his massive frame filling it. Although a half-breed, he had inherited the prominent forehead, strong brow line, and broad, flat nose of his Braxian father. His human mother had given him softer, less brutish features, and a smaller size than a pureblood, although imposing by non-Braxian standards.
There was something about beastly men that turned me on. Too bad most Braxians turned into complete bastards when it came to relationships.
“Thank you for making time in your busy schedule to see me, Mr. Aldriss,” I said with a smile.
“Anton,” he said with his rumbling voice.
“Only if you call me Ravena,” I said.
“Certainly, Ravena,” he answered.
I didn’t miss the slight narrowing of his eyes. William had probably referred to me as Mercy. It was my middle name, neither Guldan nor Veredian, but one that I only allowed those in my inner circle to use.
“I understand you have business on Braxia?” he asked, although he didn’t state it as a question.
“Indeed,” I said. “I’m embarrassed to ask for your help again so soon, but you are the only Braxian I know.”
Anton smiled. It softened his otherwise fearsome face.
“Think nothing of it,” he said, waving a dismissive hand. “According to your niece’s daughter, Zharina, you and I will become family when she marries my son in who only knows how many years from now.”
I snorted and shook my head. On top of her impressive healing powers, my niece’s young three-year-old daughter appeared to have inherited a form of foresight. To our collective shock, she’d claimed Anton’s son as her future husband, even though they had never met physically.
“That little brat is trouble,” I said affectionately. “Still, I appreciate it.”
“That said, is there any way I can discourage you from going?” Anton asked.
I frowned. “Why?”
Anton heaved a sigh. “Braxia is not a very nice place. Hybrids do not fare well over there. I should know,” he said, his tone hardening. “And females have it just as bad. You are both. Worse still, you are unique.” He cast a meaningful glance at my horns and then at my Veredian markings. “Many clans struggle financially since the end of the Great Wars. Selling you would completely turn their fate around.”
I pinched my lips at that same argument again which had forever been the bane of my existence.
“I thought the Magnar had forbidden the hunting of hybrids?” I asked.
“He has, but male half-breeds continue to turn up dead in ditches and dark alleys. It takes more than an edict to erase centuries of fanaticism. Braxians love the purity of their bloodlines.”
The barely veiled bitterness in his tone spoke volumes of the abuse he’d endured growing up. I couldn’t begin to imagine what it must have felt like living every day of your life wondering if it would be your last, simply because your blood happened to be mixed with a non-Braxian.
“Female hybrids are always welcomed to be used as clan whores to entertain both the clansmen and their guests.”
“Surely, they don’t assault any female that visits your home world?” I asked, slowly rocking my crossed leg back and forth.
“Women don’t visit Braxia,” he said, a serious look in his eyes. “And those who go there are accompanied by their mate or some kind of male protector in case anyone got funny ideas.”
I sighed heavily, hiding none of my annoyance.
“I know it is difficult for independent women to deal with such a backward thinking culture, but for your sake, I would ask that you place yourself under the protection of my father’s clan.”
