Page 39 of Ravik's Mercy

“Veredians can feel it, too?” he asked, his gaze shifting ahead for a second to see how far Voltar had taken us.

Looking ahead, I saw that we would soon reach the open field. I turned back to him to answer his question.

“Most of us can, but not all,” I said, my pulse picking up.

“You felt it?” he asked, although his question came out more like a statement.

My throat too constricted to answer, I nodded.

“When you first met me?” he insisted.

I swallowed hard and then nodded again.

A slow smile stretched on Ravik’s lips, his eyes filled with a proud and possessive gleam. Tension bled from my shoulders, and I relaxed against him. Careful not to stab himself on my left horn, he placed a kiss on my temple.

He pressed his palm on my stomach, his fingers splayed, and his thumb moving up and down in a slow caress.

“My closest and most trusted advisors recommend that you drink moon juice for the time being,” Ravik said cautiously.

My stomach knotted, and my chest constricted. After nearly 150 years of living on the brink of extinction, Veredians had finally found a cure to our fertility problems. For my people, every birth was a blessing, regardless of the sire, or the conditions under which the child had been conceived. Contraception didn’t belong in our vocabulary. In a few weeks, I’d turn fifty. That left me another twenty-five years of fertility.

“Is that what you wish?” I asked, failing to hide the tension in my voice.

“No, it is not,” Ravik said, without hesitation. My heart soared. “But it’s not about what I want. Ultimately, it is your body. I cannot—will not—force you to drink moon juice. However, there are… things you should know before you make a decision.”

“Things about Braxia?” I asked, feeling both confused and relieved.

“About Braxia. About me.” The flash of pain and shame that crossed his eyes told me this would be a difficult talk. “But it will have to wait. For now, mymate, we hunt.”

My stomach flip-flopped at thus being claimed. Ravik kissed the top of my head, then nodded at one of the hunters near us. The man lifted to his lips a whistle-like object. When he blew in it, instead of the shrill sound I expected, it came out as the deep rumble of a foghorn. Ravik leaned forward, forcing me to follow suit. His hands reached for two of Voltar’s horns.

“Fargleh,” Ravik said in Braxian.

I didn’t need a translation device to guess its meaning. Voltar surged forward. It was a rough ride. Without Ravik’s weight holding me down, I would have bounced right off the mount. And yet, it was fucking exhilarating. The wind whipped past us, my long braid waving like a flag. The scenery quickly changed with the forest looming ahead.

Braxia wasn’t called the dark planet for nothing. Not only did it look black from space, but bright colors didn’t naturally occur in that world, whether it was in the flora, fauna, or minerals. While all basic colors could be found, they usually leaned towards the darker shades. In spite of that, it didn’t feel oppressive, giving off instead a sense of strength, power, and solemnity.

Giant, ash-colored trees with massive trunks spread their long limbs towards the sky. Dark colored green, blue, and red leaves adorned their branches. The scent of fresh dirt and wet leaves greeted us with an underlying sweeter scent, which probably came from wildflowers or wild fruits hanging from the trees or berry bushes nearby. Small critters scurried into hiding as we stampeded through their habitat.

After thirty minutes of hard riding, a signal went off on Ravik’s armband. Until its screen lit up, I had assumed it to merely be a decorative element of his armor. But based on the dots appearing on it, I recognized it as a scanning device, tracking the predators they intended to make their prey. A quick glance at the other riders indicated they, too, had detected the roaming joarkals. The number of dots and the fact that the pack was so close to the ruling clan’s compound made me uneasy.

Ravik raised a hand, and all the men slowed down. His trusted friends closed ranks around us. In the distance, we could hear the howling of the beasts. Having returned to a slow trot, Ravik released the horns and straightened, allowing me to do the same. Some of the hunters dismounted and pulled out their bows. The incredibly thick string clearly required tremendous strength to pull, more than I had without the enhancement of my Tuurean armor. They nocked their arrows, advancing at the ready.

According to Ravik, the first wave of arrows was meant to knock out some of the pack with a powerful paralytic. When I asked him why not simply shoot them with dart guns loaded with tranquilizers, he explained that the darts couldn’t pierce through the hard carapace of the creatures, unlike arrows. The arrow also made it harder for the joarkal to keep moving, giving the drug more time to take effect as they were fairly resistant to anything.

Voltar stopped, the folded leathery skin alongside his neck fanning. I stretched my neck to look above it in an attempt to see what threat he had detected. The forest stood still, even the birds having gone quiet. Besides the trees and small berry bushes, a number of long, rough-edged, light grey rocks littered the forest. Dark-red, spiky flowers grew on top, although they were probably mushrooms. Nothing else stood out. Even the foliage of the trees seemed cowed from bristling in the slight breeze.

It took me a moment, thinking at first my vision was playing tricks on me. Then, one of what I’d initially believed to be rocks, prowled with feline grace towards us. The four-legged creature seemed to be covered in stone with a broad, flat head. The maroon flowers turned out to be spikes running from its forehead, along its spine, and down its scorpion-like tail. Vicious talons protruded from its paws.

No wonder dart guns wouldn’t work.

However badass the Braxian arrows looked, even those didn’t seem able to pierce the joarkal’s outer shell. As more of the rocks started moving, the men made a protective wall between them and us.

That annoyed me.

Ravik jumped off Voltar. From the look on his face, he’d clearly intended on ordering me to remain mounted, but it was obvious that without him to keep me stabilized, I’d likely topple off at the first step Voltar made. To be fair, I deliberately exaggerated my discomfort to force the issue. It would likely come back to bite me in the ass when we’d look at the racing breed, but I’d deal with that situation then. Reluctantly extending a hand towards me, Ravik helped me down. At the same time, the whistling sound of arrows being loosed sounded off ahead, soon followed by the pained and angry roars of the targeted beasts. With a battle cry, a first group of Braxians charged the joarkals rushing towards us.

Ravik armed his battle axe and, fisting my braid close to my scalp, he drew my face to his and gave me a hard kiss. He released me, his eyes sparkling with excitement and the anticipation of battle. Turning to face Voltar, he pressed his palm to the flat part of the karveli’s snout.

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