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“Braxia was once one of the jewels of the Eastern Quadrant. Wewillendure through this hardship and rise again. The future is ours to seize, and seize it we will.” Ravik raised his glass of wine. “To Braxia!”
Everyone in attendance stood up, raised their glasses, and shouted in unison.
“To Braxia!”
Chapter 14
Ravik
Staring at Hagan’s despicable face across the table from me in my private chambers, countless scenarios ran through my mind as to the multitude of ways in which I could demolish it, the oh-so-satisfying sound of his bones crushing beneath my fist, and his delightful screams of agony.
Soon, you son of a krillik. Soon, I will kill you.
In the week that followed our announcements regarding potential new trades using the women’s crafts, he’d grown increasingly belligerent, going so far as to imply Mercy should be punished according to the old ways for her disrespect towards him. For that alone, I’d almost given in to the urge to kill him. Before I’d abolished that law, women were flogged if found guilty of showing disrespect to a male, or dishonoring him whether through her words or actions. The standard punishment consisted of twenty-five lashes, half of which were expected to break skin. The female would then be placed for three hours in a cage too small to stand in and too narrow to lie down or stretch. Only after that would she receive treatment for her wounds, which didn’t guarantee painkillers, based on the gravity of her offense.
Despite our barbaric ways, such punishments didn’t occur as often as one might think. Our males knew the extent of our strength compared to our females and how easily we could permanently damage or even kill them by losing control. Once was all it took. Our females also knew the severity of the punishments that would befall them for crossing certain lines and therefore trod carefully. But underlying this, no matter how dominant and superior men considered themselves to their women, they cared for their wives, concubines, and daughters, and inflicted punishments in keeping with one who loves well.
Still, too many acts of gratuitous violence condoned by our culture had been perpetrated against women. Even with the changes in law, such reprehensible acts continued to occur. Enforcing the law proved difficult with clans operating within the privacy of their own compounds which made reporting it less likely. Once more, it came down to laying the foundations and then working on changing mentalities.
But people such as Hagan couldn’t change because they didn’t want to. They enjoyed the power conferred to them by the old ways. And above all, they loved the easy profit from taking advantage of others. The success of the merchant meeting organized with Anton’s help had left him more bitter than ever. The high demand for some of the goods—mainly the beauty products, and jewelry, and some of the nyrian woven fabric—had prompted Anton to offer to provide a prime real estate location on Venus Hive to run a Braxian shop, free of charge for two years. As a grain farmer, Hagan wouldn’t benefit from the potentially insane profits the struggling clans could reap.
“I believe this is all moving too fast and creating unrealistic expectations,” Hagan complained for the billionth time.
“The clansmen are well aware that there are no guarantees,” Krygor said, dismissively. “Weren’t you the one demanding we give the people hope? We’ve taken concrete steps and still you complain?”
“Your half-breed is once again trying to control the process with this shop idea,” Hagan argued. “When he decides he no longer wants us there, what will happen?” he asked turning to Raylor Caldes for support.
Raylor hesitated, a troubled look crossing his features. “Technically, he would be bound by the terms of the two-year contract he suggested. It is an extremely generous offer on his part and actually a loss.”
I suspected my face reflected the same shock as everyone else’s. Raylor had grown quite subdued since the whole debacle he had initiated by inviting the Guldans. But his hatred for Anton and the whole of Clan Aldriss had been legendary. We’d all expected him to jump at the opportunity to trash him.
“I know of the location he’s proposing,” Raylor explained in a somewhat defensive tone in light of our reactions. “It would rent for millions of credits per month. He’s giving up a lot for nothing in return, while giving us access to the richest clientele in the Eastern Quadrant. Those who come to pleasure barges want to spend and be extravagant. With the store, we get to charge full price instead of the lower price we would normally get from trading with resellers.”
“You’re only defending him because you seek to profit from this,” Hagan said, bitterly.
“Wouldn’t you?” Raylor snapped back. “Duralium doesn’t sell anymore. People want Titanium. My clan entirely depends on Anton’s mercy in buying our metal sheets to expand and maintain his space stations. Unlike you with your farms, we had no other prospects until now. We don’t have anything as fancy as nyrian turned out to be, but our females have been crafting beautiful decorative items using metal shavings with colorful resins. My wife has actually initiated talks with Boros’ daughter for some jewelry concepts combining both our resources. Whatever my personal feelings, I have a duty to my clan, and I will see to it.”
I was too shocked for words. Raylor had always been a practical man, but he was proving smarter and wiser than I’d expected. After the banishment of his son and his subsequent execution, Raylor had made one bad decision after another, and systematically associated with the wrong crowd. Maybe he could be redeemed after all.
“The topic isn’t open for debate anyway,” I said, ready to move on to another subject. “Anton will be reviewing with each clan the proposals submitted during yesterday’s meeting with the merchants; advising them as to which ones are worth pursuing or that require amending.” Locking eyes with Hagan I smirked with undisguised malice. “If you fear losing your elite clan status, I suggest you stop fighting change and get onboard so that you’re not left behind.”
Hagan pinched his lips, looking for some snarky reply. A sudden commotion outside my chamber had my warning bells firing up.
“Ravena! No!” Tagar’s muffled voice yelled from outside. “You can’t go in there!”
My shoulders tensed at the sound of Ravena’s angry growl seeping in through the closed door. My councilmen exchanged confused looks, while my eyes remained glued to the entrance. I rose to my feet just as the door burst open. Time appeared to stand still when she stepped inside. A feral expression on her face, a low, menacing growl rising from her throat in a constant flow, Ravena prowled towards the table like a predator, staring at me like prey.
And then it hit us: the potent scent of her arousal. This wasn’t just my female being in the mood, this was her mating heat. It struck me like a punch in the gut, setting my blood on fire as it rushed to my groin. My councilmen’s noses twitched, their nostrils flaring, and eyes widening. A few of them grabbed their crotches, pained expressions on their faces as Ravena’s scent spurred their male instinct to sate the needs of the prime female.
“Mine,” Ravena hissed, her eyes locked on me.
Moving so fast she blurred, Ravena closed the distance with three long steps, leapt between Krygor and Pattel onto the table, before throwing herself at me. Although I caught her, the force of the impact had me stumbling a couple of steps back, knocking my chair out of the way. Legs wrapped around my waist, she tore my shirt open with supernatural strength.
“Mine!” she hissed again. Still clawing at the remaining shreds of my shirt, she covered my neck and chest with hungry kisses.
“Ravena, stop!” I said, trying in vain to control her.
Slipping a hand between us, she ripped open the magnetic clasp of my pants and caught my cock in a vise-like grip. I grunted in pain and, hooking my hands under her armpits, I peeled her off me and slammed her back onto the top of the table. I clenched my teeth as she nearly tore off my cock, trying to hang onto it before it slipped out of her hand.
