Page 22 of Ravik's Mercy

“Come,” I said to Ravena. “Let me show you to your quarters.”

The thick, reinforced metal doors parted before us as we exited the shuttle bay under the curious eyes of the crew. Females very rarely got to travel onboard a Braxian ship, unless they were sex slaves to see to the needs of the crew. And those were only allowed on long missions, not short trips like this one. The other rare cases were if a foreign guest traveled with us, accompanied by a spouse or daughter. But they usually preferred to fly alongside us in their own vessel. I couldn’t blame them. Ravena’s stunning beauty drew even more stares. In many ways, Caldes was right in making a parallel between Guldans and Braxians as perfect allies. Like us, they jealously kept their females tucked away on their planet. With both our cultures treating women as mere breeders and fuck toys, they had no reason to travel.

That shameful realization only further highlighted the steep hill I needed to climb to drag Braxia out of its antiquated ways.

Ravena’s eyes flicked this way and that as she evaluated my ship on our way to the sleeping quarters. Technologically, it paled in comparison to her shuttle. Nonetheless, it was a beautiful battleship, equipped with the most advanced Braxian technology, weaponry, and top of the line amenities and comforts.

“Burnt-red flooring,” Ravena mused out loud. “Interesting color.”

I smiled. There was indeed something ominous about it and its dark grey edges, although the pale grey walls helped lighten the overall mood.

“You will find that Braxians are particularly fond of black, dark grey, and maroon.”

She nodded. “I had indeed noticed that Anton wore a lot of black and so do you,” she said, giving me a quick once over.

I liked the way she looked at me; especially the way her gaze lingered on my muscles. Whatever Braxians lacked in facial beauty, and despite our massive sizes, our bodies were considered works of art. With our high metabolism, we’d yet to see a single overweight Braxian. The slightest effort, and ample nutrition, sufficed for us to gain muscle mass.

“And you as well, little bird,” I countered as we crossed the guests’ and officers’ sleeping quarters.

“I like black or white. White because it looks great with my skin complexion,” Ravena said, looking at her wrist. “And black because it makes me feel sexy and naughty.”

I chuckled. “There’s no question you are both, with or without black.”

Her lips stretched in a smirk. The memory of her taste, the softness of her tongue against mine, had me aching for seconds.

“Truth!” she said, an unrepentant glimmer in her eyes.

I stopped in front of the secured door at the end of the corridor; which led to my private suite. Unlike most other sections, whose doors possessed windows you could see through, these were completely occluded and bomb-proof. I placed my hand on the scanner embedded on the wall. The red light at the top turned white, and the door automatically opened with a soft hiss. I didn’t go in.

“New access,” I said.

“New access requested by Magnar Ravik,” said the synthetic voice of Hana, the ship’s artificial intelligence. “New guest, please place your hand on the scanner.”

Ravena complied without asking any questions. A white light scanned her from head to toe, while another beneath her palm archived a copy of her digital print.

“New guest, please state your full name, loud and clear,” Hana said when the scanning lights faded.

Ravena appeared to hesitate for a split second before she spoke. “Ravena Mercy Vrok.”

My brows shot up.

Mercy?

“Ravena Mercy Vrok, successfully registered,” Hana said. “Magnar Ravik, please state Ravena Mercy Vrok’s security clearance level.”

“Security clearance level three,” I said.

“Security level three now activated for Ravena Mercy Vrok. Registration complete.”

Under the current circumstances, it was a little foolish on my part to give her level three when only level one was usually granted. It merely allowed the guest to come and go as they pleased, as well as lock their private room against anyone with clearance level three or lower. William vouching for her certainly helped. But still… for some irrational reason, giving her less than three felt disrespectful.

My suite had four other individual quarters, two of which were reserved for my sons, Keran and Ganek. The adjoining room to my private quarters had never been occupied, as it was reserved for the female I would claim as wife, concubine, or bedroom slave.

I led her to it.

“These are your quarters,” I said, showing her in.

Just like in the hallway, dark and light greys and paler shades of maroon dominated. Darker reds would not be used in a female room as it spoke of strength, power, and fury. A massive bed stood in front of a large window, which looked out into the void of space. The dresser, vanity, and breakfast table constituted the only other pieces of furniture within the room, all of which were bolted to the floor.

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