Page 62 of Taken to Voraxia
Krisxox leans forward in his seat and his ridges flash a troubling and surprising color whose muddled quality leaves me only to guess at his thoughts.Whatishe thinking?It is not at all of his rank to continue to watch the traitor — theadvisor —but it would be an honor for that right to be bestowed unto Tur’Roth. And Tur’Roth is not only capable, but Svera requested him.
“She should remain under my protection.”
Svera’s face floods with color in a way my Rakukanna’s does not. Her entire milky brown complexion morphs into a sudden furious and ferocious red. I sit up straighter in my seat.Is this her violence color? Will she attack him?
I glance at my Rakukanna, but the concern in her gaze is directed towardsmenow. I feel even more troubled. I do not like to see my Miari anything less than pleased.
“Krisxox, your offer is generous,” my Rakukanna begins slowly, “but Xaneru raises a good point. You are needed for battle strategy and to train warriors. Qath boasts the largest training facility in Voraxia, if I’m not mistaken. Looking after Svera might be beneath you. And Svera is comfortable around Tur’Roth. He might be better suited.”
He clicks his tongue against his teeth and hisses, “This does not matter. Keeping her under my protection is safest. And she will need the protection now more than ever if she’s going to be an advisor to the Raku and Rakukanna, and go-between forhumansand civilization,” he sneers. His ridges flash black and he thumps his fist against his werro root seat. Shocked savagery eclipses my other emotions.
I slam my fist down, demanding silence and obedience. “You will check your words and your ridges before you speak again to the Rakukanna, or anyone else in this room. Straighten up and divest yourself of this childish petulance.”
Krisxox’s ridges flare yellow in shame. He sits upright in his seat and bows his head deeply, holding the position for many moments. “I forget myself, Raku,” he murmurs and the contrition in his tone is heartfelt but it does not extend to the female beside me. His hatred of theothercontradicts his offer of protection to the human beside him.
“You will address my Rakukanna for your dishonor.”
He repeats the motion and his words to Miari beside me, but he hesitates. I snarl, “Krisxox, you will need to face the xclernfor such dishonor.”
“Hexa. I accept.” And I get the feeling that it was easier to accept lashes than to grant an apology to my half-Dra’Kesh, half-human hybrid Rakukanna. It will not be the first time I have had to punish him for insubordinate behavior, but the first time that I am genuinely angered by it. Nox, not just angered…disappointed.
“I’m sorry,” Svera says, offering up words of contrition that should have belonged to Krisxox. “I don’t mean to cause any trouble, and for doing so I sincerely apologize. I just…thought it would be easier on everyone if I made new provisions for myself. If that’s not the case, then I’m happy to defer to Krisxox,” she says, but the words are clipped and conciliatory. She does not mean them. “But I will still need a place to sleep…”
Krisxox bristles, his mouth and nose both twitching as he retorts, “My place is more than big enough. You’ll stay in the room I have provided you.”
She balks and it is the first time that there is a break in her grace. The red in her cheek seems to strengthen in color, but I understand now that this is not a prequel to an attack even if I do find it disquieting.
In my peripheries I can see Roth and Islu'Raku bristle. Lemoria seems less concerned, but perhaps that is only because she has spent more time with this human.
“Krisxox, with all due respect, I don’t want to take up more time than this already has, but I’m not comfortable in your place. You’ve made it clear you aren’t comfortable with my being there either. And we…we aren’t married! There is a spare thatch abutting Tur’Roth’s that’s vacant. I’ve already gotten permission from the Demi that I can stay there.”
“What is married?” Lemoria says, cutting in abruptly. It’s clear this conversation fascinates her because she is leaning forward on her knees, her long, black hair grazing the packed dirt floor beneath us.
Svera’s color grows in force and soon splotches consume her neck and arms. “It’s…a union. Like the one the Raku and Rakukanna performed during the ceremony we witnessed. Humans like me…or just me and some of the others who worship the Tri-God, we believe that you shouldn’t live in the same house as someone who might be a potential mate until you go through the ceremony.”
“Fascinating,” Lemoria muses.
“Irrelevant,” Krisxox snaps. “We will never be mates so this is of no concern.”
“Even more of a reason for me not to stay in your house,” she exhales, exasperated, “It will make the women you lay with uncomfortable and curb your chances of ever finding your Xiveri mate. I’ve heard them asking about me when you bring them over.”
“You bed otherwomen…as inplural…while Svera’s there? In the house?” My Miari stands now and I can see that this conversation is sliding down into a realm where it does not belong.
I rise with her and hold up both hands, and I feel the sting of loss when we unlink. That Krisxox has cost me this moment unlinked from her is even more of a reason to lash him.
“Enough. This is not a conversation for the war room. Svera will remain under Krisxox’s protection and in his home. Krisxox will accommodateanywishes Svera has to be made more comfortable within it, including, if needed the commissioning of a separate space with its own entrance so as to maintain the privacy her Tri-God demands of her, or he will refrain from breeding other females while Svera remains in his charge. The choice will be yours Krisxox.”
I meet the gaze of each advisor in my war room evenly, communicating the finality of this talk, but I remain standing as I move on. “Lemoria, your report.”
Lemoria, whose mouth is still agape, brushes off her skirts and rolls back her shoulders. Her chest remains bare, as do all those on Voraxia — with the exception of Svera. I wonder if this is another demand of her Tri-God. And if so, I am both unnerved and grateful that Miari does not worship the same being. Her exposed chest so close to me begs my attention.
It has taken too much willpower to keep my eyes from focusing on her perfect, smooth mounds and the darker red tips that peak them. Those little buds seem almost perpetually stiff and I know that this ripening precedes her arousal.
I want to reach out and touch one, scrape my claw tenderly across it, feel her press out her chest and inhale in small gasps as she does seconds before her eyelids flicker and her thighs peel apart. She opens for me and there is nothing sweeter.
“Hexa, my Raku,” Lemoria says and I snap back to the present. “I have tested the human and hybrid anatomies of Svera and our Rakukanna and determined that our Rakukanna has taken on more of the female human traits, including her swell cycle.”
I take a seat because it is all I can do not to turn to my Rakukanna and pull her onto my lap, or better yet, push her onto the floor and mount her endlessly.
