Page 45 of Serpents of the Night

He growled and rose slightly off the cushion as he regarded her through narrowed eyes. “What makes you believe that I should sacrifice myself without time to grieve or even the ability to properly send my mate along to the next world if Payeri spoke true?”

A look of discomfort flitted across the female’s face. “Lori was brave... a strong and capable female despite the fragility of her species, but it is not right to insist that she would be welcomed into Shangla’s abode. The queen would not hear of it to honor her in such the way as the mate of a royal nest.”

“She lacks nothing that we possess,” he replied vehemently. “She is deserving, and if Shangla finds fault with arrival within her fragrant palace, then she can determine that for herself without any arrogantly assuming on behalf of Shangla. My nest brothers and I deserve the opportunity to grieve and honor her memory. And to grieve for the nestling we have lost. Hashal deserves the opportunity to say goodbye to the only mother he has known who loved him. Higthar would not discount us, nor our mate, for he rose from the barren darkness with nothing but his velkat, hand-forged in the primal fires and defeated the great beasts that barred his way to take his places in the northern heavens where his star dawns every morning. He carved out his own fate. He will not discard our prayers for our mate, even if Shangla dismisses her. But who would say that they know better than the gods?” he gritted out bitterly.

Jathella stared at him silently, her body frozen in place as she regarded him in shock. Slengral was certain that he stepped over the lines of decorum that were permitted a male, but he was done with the shinara’s laws that would restrain him. They were the same laws that killed his mate. Her frame shuddered and she expelled her held breath in a long sigh.

“You are right,” she rasped. “We are willfully doing an insult to the gods.” Her expression shifted, flitting to one of discomfort before flattening again in an attempt to not betray too much of her inner thoughts. “There have been those from the great spire who arrived at the palace these last days in protest upon hearing the rumors spreading through the shinara. They were not pleased with what they heard and demanded to know why no one was sent from the palace to collect her remains for proper respects to be made.”

“And what was my mother’s response?” He held her pinned with his gaze, his anger festering deeper within him. Even the matriarchs of the spire had scolded her and still she held him captive within the palace!

Jathella’s mouth twisted in a grimace. “She said that she was doing her duty and that seeing to your next mating overrode any rites for a being not born of Shangla.” The tip of her tail twitched, and she coiled in tighter into a knot. “This did not please them either, as it disrespected your mate, who was still attached to this world for so long as her pheromones bound her to you. They had many harsh words for the queen matriarch, and they all displeased her.”

Slengral hissed a mocking laugh. He was certain that they did.

“There is one more thing,” Jathella said slowly as she reached into the fabric wrapped around her upper body. From within it, she pulled old a single golden flower withered with age and yet gleamed as if it were dipped into the heart of a flame. “The high matriarch of the spire asked for this to be gifted to you, that the dishana has been used from time beyond memory to convey the devoted and eternal love of mates.” She turned it slowly in her fingers as she looked down at it. “She was aware that you were too late in gifting your mate such a precious gift and that your mate was taken from you far too soon. She wished for you to have this as a memorial to remember that the love you had will never fade or wither like this flower dipped the precious divir metal.”

He drew in a sharp breath, his eyes widening as she handed him the metal-encrusted bloom.

“It is one of a select few preserved within the spire. Each harvest, the most noble of the dishana blooms is chosen and preserved. They are kept within the spire and parted with only under the most exceptional of instances.” She swallowed thickly. “She told me to convey to you that your mate’s decision to undergo the maiden trial to demonstrate your love and keep peace between our people and hers, despite how wrong the request was, demonstrates a rare sort of devotion that is deserving of it. She hopes that your human will continue to live forever in your heart.”

Head bowing, his heart heavy with the weight of sorrow and the intensity of emotions running through him, Slengral took the flower from her and cradled it against his chest, recalling the sweetest moments of being with her from the time she had stared up at him terrified and yet defiant in his nest after he rescued her. Her precious smiles, and the way her laughter had released the pain and loneliness that he had kept within him. The way she completed him more and more as their family grew around her at their center.

She had given him everything and he could not even give her the human tears to demonstrate the depths of his sorrow.

He had never understood the human tendency to leak water from their eyes when possessed by sadness. Although he had seen his mate cry before and he had been moved by it and lived her sorrow and pain with her, he had never wished to shed water... until now. Now he cursed his inability to weep. A low, keening tremble started deep within him, the sound soft and heart-shattering.

He barely noticed when Jathella moved until she dropped before him, her upper coils striking the floor hard as she spread her wings and dropped her head. Her wings trembled with her own sorrow as she submitted herself to him.

“I swear to you, you cannot suffer more. I will help you, Slengral,” she rasped. Her eyes, dimmed with misery, lifted and fastened upon him. “I left her in the dunes. It was my error. Regardless of the queen matriarch’s reasonings and preoccupation with the welfare of the shinara, I never should have agreed to what did not sit right with me. I will see to it that you are freed, and I will help you to find her remains. I swear it.”

His head dropped, his gavo snapping weakly in agreement as he drew the metal preserved bloom to him. For their ashlava, their hithana whom they adored, he would never stop grieving. He would never forget.

He would never forgive.

Chapter 38

Kehtal moved restlessly back and forth through the central room of their nest, his gavo and wings twitching and snapping anxiously. He was aware of the fact that he was wearing a grooved path back and forth across the center of the room, but it gave him an odd satisfaction that marring the floor was at least a protest that would have some lasting effect unless stoneworkers were brought to smooth and re-level the entire floor of the nest. As it stood, his path stood out bleakly and angrily against the rest of the cave floor, matching his mood and the resentment boiling within his stomach.

It was unequal, however, to the frustration that beat at him, mocking him for his weakness. A weakness that he only felt trapped in the shinara. He had never felt weak and insignificant in the upper caverns where his speed served him well in fighting off territory rivals with Daskh. Nor had he felt puny in the colony where his smaller size was still larger than most of the offworlders who made Raza their home. He certainly never felt out of place or demeaned within his nest, either. Although he lacked the size and strength of his nestmates, they had never made him feel inferior. He was no less of a mate to their ashlava. Only the shinara could make him feel as if he were nothing.

He spun with a snarl and whipped his tail at a delicately carved platter, sending it crashing into the wall. Its satisfying shatter echoed through the room and his gaze promptly searched for another target to vent his anger upon.

“You are quickly running out of things to break,” Daskh pointed out from the dark corner near the entrance where he was coiled in wait for anyone foolish enough to approach their nest.

Kehtal huffed as he peered at the mess littering the perimeter of the room from the various things he had flung against the walls. Daskh was not wrong. It had taken him less than three days confined in their nest to steadily break everything within sight whenever he needed to soothe his nerves. Queen Zathexa said their mate was dead, but his body did not heed mere words. It screamed persistently with the prolonged separation.

Sagging onto a large cushion, he stared bleakly in the direction of the sleeping chamber. It was all wrong. Their nest felt too empty. Quiet. Even Hashal was silent. They could barely coax a few handfuls of words at a time from the nestling before the little male curled into a ball and closed his eyes in his little nest, wrapped in Lori’s clothes that she had set aside to clean. Kehtal didn’t know if he truly slept or simply drifted through his own thoughts and memories, unable to tolerate the world without his mother.

“This cannot go on,” he muttered, casting a hopeless to his nest brother.

Daskh rumbled in agreement but said nothing, his green eyes closing as his ears fanned. He was ignoring Kehtal in favor of listening intently to the activity outside of their nest, but he could hardly fault him for it. Everything in their nest brought memories of their ashlava to mind as if she had only been gone for a moment. It was painful to look upon. It was not personal against him.

He closed his eyes, retreating inwardly. After all, why not? Daskh and Hashal had the right idea. Rather than make himself insane like a trapped animal, he could at least find Lori within himself. If she were truly dead as the queen said, at least he would always have her there. His need to find her remains and provide her with the proper ceremonies to secure her place within the heavenly court of Shangla was more his selfish desire to find a form of peace. Until then, this was all he had even if it slowly broke his heart more and more.

He drifted with her, sinking into his mate’s embrace within his mind and the memory of her sweet smile when she looked up at him with all her love bright in her eyes. Her voice whispered through him, caressing him. He shivered with happiness and yet his sorrow grew and grew. It was not real. She was like smoke drifting through his fingers, a formless spirit that only lived in his thoughts.

A violent rattling sound broke through the air, fragmenting and chasing away the memory of her from his mind. Kehtal jerked, his eyes snapping open, in recognition of the sound and his head whirled toward his nest brother as Daskh drew himself aggressively to his full height, his wings rattling angrily. The male’s head turned toward the entrance and the entirety of his attention focused there.

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