Page 65 of You're Not My King!

“We have reason to believe those responsible for our Great Leader’s ambush were the Raht species from planet Slah’yher,” Rauk’nk spoke up, a friend and voice of reason. “Assassins. That is all we need to launch an extermination.”

Elder Tae’ju slammed his hand against the table. “If we rid U’suhk of the vermin, it will not tackle the root of the problem. We must strike a blow against the Northern Clan.”

“The treaty?—”

“I am aware of the treaty, Chief Rauk’nk,” Tae’ju growled, tensions rising. “Do not treat me as a youngling.”

Rauk’nk smirked. “Then do not act as one.”

Verbal sparring ensued.

Three hours we had been there, dragging our claws in circles, and we were not one step closer to a solution.

“Enough,” I drawled, pressing the tips of my fingers into my temples, massaging the growing headache. “We must not fight amongst ourselves. That will get us nowhere.”

“Then what do you propose, Vo’ak?” Tae’ju spat, lip curled over his fang in a sneer. “You have been quiet.”

I pinned him with a bored glare. “Are you suggesting I do not contribute?”

He sniffed derisively. “I merely notice that you have offered nothing new. Did that poisoned arrow impair your speech and decisiveness?”

Zae’l shifted beside me, hand resting on his blade. “Careful who you insult.”

Elder Tae’ju waved a hand, backing down. He was not worth the aggravation. Though he was a wise and experienced elder, he was old and set in his ways, and it raised hackles among the younger generations. He had been my father’s right hand, a trusted friend and mentor, but he voiced his disagreements without care.

It could be refreshing as much as it was tiresome.

“Is there more I could say that you have not already?” I asked dryly. “I am bound by the treaty not to interfere unless treason is committed. My options remain as follows: to do as Rauk’nk suggested and wipe out those directly responsible, or to uncover who pulled their strings. Tell me, in the last three hours, have we garnered enough evidence, Elder Tae’ju?”

He blew out a long breath. “No, but?—”

“Then you understand my predicament.” I interrupted him, much to his offense. “I am not in the habit of running my voice when I have nothing of substance to add.”

A faint snort came from the far end of the table.

Chief May’lun cleared her throat, smiling kindly. “It would be of great benefit to hunt the remaining Raht’s and persuade them for answers.”

I sighed. “Yes, that would be the simplest option, if only it were simple. I had my best hunters trace their tracks to no avail. They are as slippery as shadows. Invisible.”

A wave of murmurs traveled throughout the room, and I noticed Tae’ju open his mouth to add something else of insignificance when a familiar scent hit my nose. I stood abruptly as Roo-bin barged into the hut, fingers twisting nervously in front of him and sweat beading at his brow. My eyes widened as a cacophony of gasps came from the far side of the war table.

He was not supposed to be here.

“I… I want to help find the bad ga-eye-z,” he said, and my heart soared at his consideration. He was a good mate, a fierce soul, but from the corner of my eye, I caught Elder Tae’ju glancing at me with a superior grin before whispering to his neighbor, and I would not subject my mate to such scandal.

I smiled at him, remaining calm. “Return to the hut, my mate. Talk later.”

“No, I will not return to the hut,” he argued, voice raised, and I did not understand his frustrations. “Is that all I am to you? A body to warm your bed until you can be bawe-thurd with me. I am your mate! I want to help you find the pee-pul who hurt you.”

“There are rules.” I did not know what else to say, but apparently, that was wrong. There were too many voices bickering behind me, and the scent of my mate’s pain was overwhelming my senses.

He waved his arms and scoffed. “Fucking rules. There are always fucking rules.”

It was true that being the Great Leader’s mate had many privileges, but our council consisted mainly of surrounding chiefs and elders, who adhered to ancient customs. We had a system in place for the protection of our clans that had not changed since the creation of U’suhk. The hoo-man could not have known this, and it was a fault of mine that he remained ignorant, but he refused to listen. He could only be present in meetings if formally invited. A vote had to be taken, as only a select few could be privy to discussions of war—to keep it contained—but it had not been. In their eyes, he was disrespecting tradition. Disrespecting me.

How could I possibly rule a planet when I could not even control my mate?

If only there were no barriers to our speech, I could make him understand before the situation escalated, but I could not find the words. “Zae’l,” I beckoned my right hand. “Fetch Healer Fee-oh-nah. Now.”

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