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To my surprise, I stumbled on a series of unexpected messages from a male named Rik who seemed infatuated with Varrek—actually more like obsessed and borderline stalker. I felt guilty reading those private conversations, but I assuaged my conscience by justifying it as a way to get to know my brother a bit more. From what juicy tidbits I’d found, my brother had had an affair with that male but put an end to it once he became too clingy. As I understood it, he’d also been a brilliant scientist who Varrek continued to work with on various projects for a while after ending their romantic involvement. But Rik’s continued persistence to resume their affair eventually drove Varrek to put an end to their relationship, both professional and personal. I’d known my brother preferred men, but I wondered what other secrets I’d discover about him.
At last, my sister Aleina responded to the message I’d sent her on my first day at Varrek’s house. Considering the great distance from here to Xelix Prime, we couldn’t have a direct call but only recordings. My mother, my niece, and her children all made a token appearance on the video telling me how much they missed me and looked forward to my return. My throat tightened with emotion. I ached to hold them in my arms. Once more, I wondered at a life on Braxia, filled with duty, lack of privacy or freedom, in a culture utterly foreign to me, and located light years away from the family I had just been reunited with.
And yet, I was falling hard for my beast. The thought of parting with him was just as unbearable.
At least, there would be some good news to be announced. However, Ravik put a damper on my enthusiasm. Delivering good news without a concrete action plan would fall flat and open the door to too many questions we might not have answers for. Over the following week, I divided my time between hacking through Varrek’s files and coordinating with Anton, Grace, and my sister to set up a solid plan that wouldn’t fix all of the Braxians’ problems, but would open the way to new opportunities while giving some clans more breathing room in the short-term. Ravik helped re-adjust a few things but mostly let me run with it.
He’d been busy successfully negotiating his own trade and service agreements with foreign dignitaries, a few of whom had come to Braxia. With no sign of further Guldan interference, and so many positive prospects for his people, Ravik’s mood had greatly improved. He was more relaxed, but still as overbearingly protective. At least, he’d consented to reduce my number of ‘babysitters’ to two whenever I went to Varrek’s house.
We’d settled into a comfortable routine; bath and breakfast together in the morning, off to our separate ways during the day, a couple of hours together—before or after last meal with the clan—where he’d make me discover the hidden beauties of Braxia, and of course, passionate nights of mind-blowing sex. Whenever possible, we’d have last meal at one of his close friends’ compounds instead, like that night at Fenton’s place. I loved those as they gave me great insights into the past that had shaped him into the man he’d become.
But not tonight.
For some silly reason, I felt nervous about revealing to the clans the various things we’d been working on to get some of them back on their feet. Tensions had further risen in some parts of Braxia as Ravik enforced the fines imposed on those caught pursuing slave labor. I wanted tonight to be a resounding success for him. All concerned clans, not usually in attendance in our Hall, would be present for last meal.
I turned to face the mirror for one final glance at myself. Over the past week, I’d taken to wearing Braxian ‘underground’ fashion, which I’d specifically commissioned from a few wives or had modified to fit my slender, less sturdy frame. Those sexy dresses were intended to retain the interest of their male or entice potential husbands. The dark colors preferred by the Braxians also matched my tastes. The females didn’t get many opportunities to flaunt those dresses in public, aside from the quarterly fair which took place in the Keltrix Market.
Established in a central location near Braxia’s space sport, it provided a one-stop shopping destination for the clans to buy and trade with each other rather than having to hop from clan to clan to explore their local markets.
The strapless, black, bandage cutout dress hugged my body like a second skin. Thigh-length, the cutouts on the sides exposed plenty of skin from the waist down. I donned the beautiful jewelry set that Vela had gifted me, the nyrian stones taking on an obsidian color to match my eyes. For a moment, I considered putting on my knee-length boots, but they made me look a little too hard, which wasn’t the goal tonight. So I settled on black stilettos with heels tall enough toalmostrival those Grace loved to wear.
Ravik approached me from behind, his muscular arm wrapping around my waist as he pressed his chest against my back.
“You look stunning, my mate,” Ravik whispered.
My stomach flip-flopped at the title. This was his second time referring to me as such. I couldn’t tell if it had been deliberate or a slip of the tongue. After only three weeks together, it was too early for me to expect that kind of commitment from him, not to mention I still needed to sort out my own feelings about life by his side and so far from my family.
Bending his head, Ravik nuzzled my ear and then his lips traced the curve from my neck to my shoulder. I purred, the pressure on my markings, even through the prosthetics, had delicious shivers running down my spine.
“Come on, little bird,” Ravik said, leading me out of the room, his hand on my waist. “Our people await.”
‘Our’ people…
This time, I no longer believe it to be a slip of the tongue. After all, this morning, he had inquired about my joining him in some of his official visits to the clans. He had justified it by saying the clans would benefit from fresh eyes with a good understanding of what appealed to foreign markets. Since I’d also expressed a great deal of curiosity about some of their natural resources for my personal research and development purposes, he figured it would be better for me to see it all firsthand. Although valid, I suspected his true motives lay elsewhere. When I argued that it might be misinterpreted, he’d shrugged and said that, when it came to me, he didn’t give a shit what others thought.
I liked that.
We entered the dining hall under the heavy stares of the clansmen and in particular the Clan Leaders; Krygor’s taunting, Fenton’s amused, Pattel’s unreadable, Raylor’s subdued, Hagan’s and Yorbek’s—two of the five remaining Fifteen—full of venom, and a few such as Boros, Moktar, and Ferux—all from embattled clans—full of hope.
After the usual chest fisting greeting, Ravik indicated that the men take their seats, the females quietly slipping onto their chairs around the tables in the two side corners of the hall. I settled at my usual place at the head of the table next to him, his sons on each side of us. Ravik remained standing and gestured for the servants to fill everyone’s glass. They burst into action, swift, efficient, and unobstrusive.
“I thank you all for joining my table under such short notice,” Ravik said. “Times are difficult, more for some than others, and your constant efforts and sacrifices to provide for your clans have not gone unnoticed. Change never comes easily, but it is necessary for a greater benefit in the long term.”
“But what if we don’t survive to see that longer term?” Hagan intervened with barely disguised sarcasm.
“I haven’t granted you leave to speak, Lorvis,” Ravik said, his voice cold as ice.
Hagan flinched, properly put back in his place. Lips pinched, clearly seething, he leaned back against his chair, avoiding making eye contact with the other Clan Leaders sitting around the main table. Braxians didn’t call each other by their last name. You only did so to indicate you didn’t know them, they were of inferior rank to yours, or as a display of contempt. Ravik had intended to express the last two.
“As Lorvis so rudely pointed out,” Ravik continued, adding insult to injury, “some clans are in a more dire situation, some even fearing not making it through winter. While we are still working on long-term solutions, in the short-term, my Ravena has come through for the Jyriak Plateau clans.”
Ravik turned to me and caressed my right horn with his fingertips, pride and affection in his eyes. My cheeks heated, and my chest warmed for being thus publicly claimed and praised. He looked back towards the clan tables where Boros had perked up, looking as if he were holding his breath while waiting for Ravik to expand further.
“She has convinced the Tuureans to purchase three full cargos of stone and metals from each of the three clans of the Plateau at standard cost,” Ravik continued.
A victorious roar rose from the three clans’ tables, followed by thumping sounds as the other clansmen knocked their fists on the surface twice in quick succession in sign of approval. Although these shipments would only allow him to feed his people through the winter, Boros looked like a man who had the weight of the world lifted off his shoulders. The gratitude in his eyes as they connected with mine almost choked me.
“Thanks to our continued observance of their rules regarding people’s rights and fair trade, the Galactic Council has lifted all embargo preventing its members from doing commerce with us. With the aid of Council Fenton, Council Krygor, Elder Pattel, and my heir Keran,” Ravik said, waving at the four men all seated at the left side of the table, “I have signed agreements to reopen trade in meat, grains, and leather with three human colonies that used to do business with the clans of the Nemfor Plains.”
