Page 58 of Taken to Nobu
The nape of my neck is slick beneath the intricately woven braids I wear, but my palms are totally dry. I flex my fingers, feeling the perfectly tailored hide stretch and flex around my joints.Breathe.I take a step into the arena, the pressure of many, many eyes on my body tracking each and every movement I make, none so aggressive or so distracting as the one behind me. Kinan’s. Breathing becomes easier when I realize that I can still taste the oasis with every breath I take.
I inhale and when I speak, my voice is even, sure. “I nominate no champion.”
There is a rumbling throughout the crowd as my edict is passed on to those who stand too far away to hear it, but Raku speaks over them. “As one who nominates no champion, you have the opportunity to choose your opponent. Your opponent may be selected of any warrior present here who has not yet been blooded.”
I hesitate just a tenth of a breath before making my will known, “For my opponent I choose Pe’ixal, the fallen Bo’Raku.”
The murmuring grows louder, threatening my composure.What am I doing? Am I going to get myself killed? Is it pride that will kill me? Hate? Both?No.Breathe. Remember…
I picture familiar faces in my mind, all of them alien — Tre’Hurr, Hurr, Va’El, Ka’Okkari, Kuana and her new mate, the other humans, my mom — and I recall their strength and their love, but I don’t look for them now. I let the murmurs fall away. I let Jaxal’s very audiblefuckglide right off of me. I turn and face — not the male I’m about to fight, but the one who’s given me the confidence to fight.
His gaze is on me and I feel a nervous rush all the way to my toes. Behind me, I hear Bo’Raku —Pe’ixal’s— impish cackle, “Accepted.” But all I see in front of me is Kinan, utterly impassive, but for a small twitch in his neck.
He tilts his head forward and comes to me. “You will need a weapon,” he says.
I nod, mouth dry, feeling suddenly shaky. “I will go now to Garon.”
“Hexa. Follow me.”
As cold crunches under my feet, I can’t help but feel the need to explain myself to the male I love most. “I hope you know that I don’t mean to shame you. I know that the tsanui is your sacred rite and that you had every intention of acting as my champion, I just…”
“I was wrong.” We reach Garon who nods at me stoically and makes the warrior’s greeting. So distracted by such a sign of respect from him, it takes me a moment to realize he isn’t opening the werro chest. Instead, he produces a long swatch of black cloth and hands it to Kinan.
Kinan unwraps one end and very carefully slides the sheathe off of the weapon, which he places in my hands. “I recognized the error of my thinking many solars ago. It was as I watched you fighting Ka’Okkari. It was your first time wielding an axe. It was much too large for you, but you were clever, skillfully finding ways to inflict damage without having to support the bulk of its weight, or even letting that weight work in your favor. It occurred to me then that I was a fool to dare dishonor you by taking your place in this trial. This trial is not mine, just as the right to tsanui against Bo’Raku is not mine. Both are your own.”
I shake my head, staring down at the weapon now in my hands. Trying to make sense of this. “I remember that day and I remember that fight. But that was also a fight I lost.”
Kinan’s mouth quirks. His hands fold around my own and I can feel the cold of the helos through my gloves contrasted against the fire of his fingers as they hold mine so steadily, so sure. “Hexa. You have lost many fights and you will lose many more. But you will not lose this one.”
Air fills me so fully, my toes hardly touch the ground. “You believe that,” I say, voice in awe, half disbelieving.His words cannot be real when I only half believe them myself.But they are and suddenly that half that did not believe I would ever do this or could ever do this, is gone, wiped away cleanly.
“I would not allow this battle to proceed if I did not.”
I exhale, fists firming around the staff. He reaches forward and grips my neck as mates sometimes do — one of the only Voraxian signs of affection shown in public. “This staff is the same size and weight as your other helos staff, so it will require no adjustments on your part, but for the one.” He tilts the right end of the staff up and I blink, shocked, as I study the weapon carefully for the first time.
I grin. “Is it…it can’t be…”
“Hexa. I supplied the Rakukanna with ideas and she came forward with designs of her own. Together, we made this for you.”
“It’s a grabar,” I balk, “The same thing I used to fight the khrui, except it’s made of helos.”
“With the same cutting ends as your practice staff, in addition to the sharpened point of the grabar you already know.”
“Did you make this specifically for me?”
“Hexa. Specifically for this purpose. For this trial.”
“But when? How did you know I’d choose to fight myself and wouldn’t ask you to be my champion?”
“This weapon I commissioned the day you fought Ka’Okkari with that axe. And I have always known.” He leans in close and kisses my ear, then speaks directly against my cheek. “Now I want you to take this weapon and I want you to gut him with it.” His lips leave fire every place they brush against me.
When Kinan pulls back, I search the expanse of his gaze while soft flakes flutter between us. There is nothing in the universe left but the two of us as he gives me this gift and issues both a permission and a warning. With his command, I understand clearly what’s about to happen. This won’t be a fight to first blood. This is a fight to last blood.
My fingers find the grips of my helos grabar and whirl it upright. Its weight is perfectly distributed, and perfect for me. “Hexa, my Okkari.”
“Show him no quarter. Give him no ground. Do not forget that I am the reason the Bo’Raku before him was exiled. This was his sire. Between his lust for you and his hatred of me, he will show you no mercy.”
“Hexa, my Okkari.”
