Page 42 of Taken to Voraxia
“If it please you, Rakukanna, I would take a few scans and samples now,” she says.
But I don’t move. I can barely breathe. I turn to look up at Xoran standing next to me. “You…you’re going to help the humans? Treat them like…like they’re Voraxian?”
“Hexa,” he says with a frown. “Younglings are precious and rare and to know that they have been…discarded, and fertile females killed in the birthing process is not to be borne. Not while I remain Raku. And certainly not when the risk of doing nothing remains mine.” He reaches out and gently traces his clawed fingers over the tunic covering my stomach.
“I will not have harm come to you,” he growls with low menace. A brief flicker of red lights in his ridges, then all is silent.
I lick my lips and wring my hands together so hard it hurts. I can’t believe it. To know that no other women in the colony will go through what my mom did. To know that no women will be forced to go through the Hunt ever again. To know that our people will be taken care of just like they’re not slaves…not animals…not humans. Like they’re aliens. Voraxians. Like we’re…equal.
It’s too much.But what’s the price?Because whatever it is, I surely can’t pay it. If he knows something I don’t, he should tell me now. Because no matter the price, I’d try.
“This…this can’t be free. And I don’t have anything left to trade you,” I say in a hush.
Xoran hisses. There is a slight shuffle and when I look up, Lemoria’s back is turned to us. In front of me, Xoran’s ridges grow a darker and deeper red and when he meets my gaze, they flash pink and orange, like a sunrise. Like broken skin under a punishing fist.
“You dishonor me,” he says and his voice is sharp and cutting. It renders me hollow, straight down to my core and worse, I don’t have any idea what I’ve done, or what he means or how to fix it.
All I know is that the strange strand I felt in my chest pulling me to him suddenly feels like it’s been cut…and I don’t want it to be.
11
Raku
“The ceremony will take place in three lunars. You will remain here until then.”
“Is this…your home?” She says with a shy glance around the entrance. She keeps her hands tucked under her arms as if she’s afraid to touch anything.
“It is.” I long to know what she thinks of it, if there is anything that can be procured or tailored to her liking, but I do not have the words to ask. Not after her slight —not a slight, an assumption. One that I’m a savage.
The thought ravages me. That she would think me capable of abandoning so many fertile females and their babes within my own constellation.What else would she think? The Dra’Kesh and Voraxians the humans have been introduced to thus far have done nothing but harm and dishonor them.
A shudder passes across my ridges and I turn away from the sight of her, because the longer I watch her, the more I desire toapologizeto her on behalf ofBo’Rakuand the Dra’Kesh and Voraxians who have claimed her fellow human females.And Bo’Raku is only my xub’Raku, and I am Raku besides. Apologizing is not done.
I clear my throat. “I will show you around, and then I will leave you.”
I pad down the stairs, enjoying the familiar rub of woven carpet beneath my bare feet. They are draped haphazardly over the packed earthen floor, very unlike the medical bay, which is one of the few structures here that is built to industrial specifications.
Roots of trees and other plants often sprout from the floor of my own home. Sometimes I let them run wild, other times, I dig up their roots and replant them outside. But in the medical bay, they can bring infection, so it remains one of a few structures insulated from Voraxia’s wild glory.
“Where are you going?” She asks in a very small voice, one that makes my second heart crumble in on itself, like a dying star.
I clear my throat and do not answer her question. I do not wish to. Because the truth of the matter is that going anywhere from her feels like ripping off both my arms.
“This is an open room. Often I use it for relaxation,” I say instead, gesturing to the pillows that form plush divans on the floor before us. Against the wall are a few shelves lined in antique scrolls from the ancient periods and passed down to me through my male and female sires and their sires before them, as well as holo pads and other modern communicators.
Below that is a black stone chest, which gleams in the now fading orange light of the translucent water panels seated high in the walls above. “You can find fermented drink there, though it is strong and I recommend against it. If you are hungry or thirsty, you may drink from the well,” I say as we arrive in the cooking area.
There is a fireplace to the right and a gamma radiator to the left. Cups and plates are stacked on the shelf that runs across the longest wall. Two spouts stand side-by-side and pour into deep copper basins, but as I speak I point to the bubbling fountain right of them that spurts up clean well water.
“Water from the spouts is clean, but the well water is mineral rich so you might enjoy drinking this more, even if it is warm. You can place it in the heat tray there,” I point to one of the metal drawers mounted in the wall. “It has a cooling function which, given your expertise with the thermal gauge, I don’t doubt you will be able to decipher. Lastly, there is my training room. You will have no need of this room.”
I give her a pointed look before moving across the relaxation room and down a wide, but short corridor to reach the room at the end of the hall. “And this is where I sleep. There is another sleeping quarter on the other side of the house and a third in the werro who shares its roots with this one, however, I do not maintain these. This is where you will sleep for now.”
“For now?” She whispers, staring at the pallet, so unlike the one from the ship that we shared previously as this one is piled high with throws and furs. Sheets spun of the catacat mites on Eltin lie beneath, and the pillows that top the mass are of hand-plucked down from the calves of the calm wret creatures who trade us the down of their kits in exchange for fruits and corn.
I had wanted this to be special for her. Our first lunar spent together in our home. One where I would suffer through the torture of abstaining from her, while still allowing myself the luxury of remaining close. Because despite what she thinks of herself and what she thinks of me and ourpact, I intend to honor her still with the Rakukanna ceremony and will not mate with her until then.
“Hexa,” I say, voice dark. “You will sleep here until the ceremony, where you will be presented to the Voraxian people. It will take place in three spans’ time. Until then I will sleep in my quarters in the House of Raku. I have many affairs to look after.”
