"Thanks for the new duds," Mourning Crow spun in her new glossy white thermo-bands. We also bleached her loincloth and left the clunky belt at home.

The Convergence festivities were in full swing and we decided to make the most of the morning by strolling the crowded city streets.

"It suits you," I swept a lock of Mourning Crow's prismatic hair behind her ear.

"What the fuck is that thing?" A large brown and green male Zhaguai thundered at my mate. The gold metal embedded in his forehead identified him as a member of Clan Ervo newly arrived from Oja Crux.

"My mate and your death, if you refer to her as a thing once again," I snarled back.

The large brown male stomped forward and flicked his longest tendrils in my face. I outweighed him by at least a hundred pounds and my mouth curled when he gave a double take at my pectoral brand marking me as the most recent Nexus Champion.

"I expect," a lanky yellow Zhaguai from the all-female Clan Asepa interjected, grinning down at my mate. "She is here because she has the strength to cut you down."

The brown male broke his gaze with me and turned with an exhilarated hiss to the yellow Zhaguai woman.

"Jahaa always delivers on the most delightful surprises," the woman stood nine-foot-tall with ten more towering female subordinates flanking her sides.

"I am Gezam of Clan Ervo," the brown male completely forgot about my mate and me.

"Silvu of Clan Asepa," the woman thrummed and narrowed her eyes seductively at Gezam.

I jutted my chin in a random direction at Mourning Crow and we took our leave. Best to avoid standing between hormonal magnetism whenever possible.

The city was sectioned off into various competitive activity zones, giving males ample opportunity to show off their physical attributes while simultaneously diffusing excess carnal energy. It also allowed inquiring females entertainment while inspecting Sahei's available inventory.

"She was shiny," Mourning Crow giggled, looking back. "Asepa... that means Clan Nemesis, right?"

"Yes," I affirmed. "From the jungle and mountain planet Tecu."

"And Ervo means Scourge from the big'ol original homeworld Oja Crux," Mourning Crow stretched her arms wide. "I think I like Jahaa's translation best... Wraith!" She flexed her fingers up into a spooky spider crawl.

I chuckled a little. "It does have a nice ring."

A chorus of roars caught our attention.

"What's going on over there?" Mourning Crow's ear jerked up. "Sounds like hounds."

"Come," I led her through the crowd. "They're running the gauntlet."

It was an obstacle course race exclusive to Zhaguai specialized in fighting with trained hounds.

"That's Clan Vasu," I pointed to a large grouping of men and women sporting matching forehead brands in the shape of a paw.

"Stalker!" Mourning Crow translated with a nod. "From the dry mountainous planet, Komis."

"Someone has been doing her reading," my grin flexed with pride. "They win this competition every cycle, but the event allows our homegrown trainers to gain a taste for new tactics."

"Hey look," Mourning Crow hopped up, pointing. "It's Dran!"

A ring of hard-bodied females encircled the brown and blue-striped Forged warrior. Each of them eyeing one another and scanning their rivals for weakness.

"It might be wise to let him be," I warned. "For the moment."

My mate agreed, but threw her hand in the air when Dran waved at us from a distance.

"Would you like to see the trophy displays?" I leaned down to Mourning Crow as we exited the gauntlet crowd. "I don't yet have anything truly worthy for the exhibit but it's my favorite event."

"Let's go," Mourning Crow hugged my arm. "Which way?"

We passed the arm-wrestling station with rows of spiked tables, the hot coal endurance stand-in, and the breath-domination contest, which was little more than males paired off testing who could stay conscious the longest while locked in a chokehold.

"What are those?" Mourning turned to a cluster of people surrounding several small lagoons as we crossed through a section of the city I doubted she was familiar with.

"Deep dive scavenger hunt," I brought her gently to the edge of the water. "These are entrances to a vast Zhaguai-made underwater tunnel system. Competitors will free-dive and retrieve specific items. No rules once you swim out of sight."

"Sounds very Thorngate," Mourning Crow backed away from the water.

"It's rare someone dies," I strolled with her. "We can get rough, but there's an overall understanding that the point of all of this is to make life, not snuff it out."

"I feel ya," my mate snuggled in close. "What's next?"

"We're almost to the exhibits," I extended my chin forward. "Many of the bones are larger than my ship, and not just the ones including the entire skeleton."

"Daaamn," Mourning Crow pursed her lips. "Too bad those giant beetles melted. Bet they would've been a real crowd-pleaser. Do exoskeletons count?"

"Yes, and yes," I lamented. "Hopefully, with the Nexus championship on my record, I'll be eligible for engaging with tougher adversaries in the future."

"Like an U'la'ke Liege?"

"Yes," I couldn't help but seethe a little. It was a rite of passage I'd been striving at for many cycles, but had continuously been denied access. "There's a zone devoted especially for their skulls. One day I'll earn my place."

In this cycle, the entrance to the exhibit was a colossal viper skull with its spine leading the visitors through a winding corridor spitting off into different categories. We chose to visit the Primordials first.

"They're all soo different," Mourning Crow peered up at the first series of trophies. "What links them into this category?"

"They're primitive beasts," I pointed to one of the holo-plaques displaying an animated living creature paired with the name and 3D-rendered representation of the Zhaguai that claimed it. "Pure, evolved solely to hunt and dominate their territory. We collect the strongest of them and cultivate their species on designated treasury planets to increase their numbers and seed them across the universe."

"So, I could one day fight and kill any of these?" Mourning Crow strolled through the collection.

"Yes," I loved that she was thinking this way. "But you'll need to seek them out in the wild to face them at their maximum power."

We continued through the human section and then into the behemoths.

"Woah," Mourning Crow gazed up and the giant fanged skull towering over our heads. "You could crawl up in there and install a full-scale apartment building."

"Some choose to on other planets," I chuckled. "But most of these were gifted to Jahaa and have permanent display sites around the planet."

"Ni Eh'kt," my mate stood still before a giant tusked sloth with rows of razored fangs. "Isn't that your dad?"

On the adjoining holo-plaque stood a miniature image of my sire, Xa'anri.

"Yes," I would omit this subject no longer. She was my mate, she deserved to know all of me.

"This is a heck of a trophy to live up to," Mourning Crow smiled with her arms up in the air.

"He left an indelible legacy," I released a somber sigh.

Mourning Crow's ears dropped. "You don't have to speak of him if you don't want to."

"I never want to," I lowered my head to her. "But I'm ready now."

No one was around, but I took her aside where we would be left alone.

"I only met him once," my brain scrambled over where exactly to start. "Like most Zhaguai, I was conceived in the Joust. Partners collide and then depart with the understanding that the bearer is in charge of the rearing, if an offspring was produced. On my eighth cycle, my bearer deemed me too small and weak to waste her time and resources on. Culling a pup requires notifying the sire but not consent."

Shit, this was harder to say out loud than I ever imagined.

"But he intervened immediately. Vouched for me and formally claimed me as his Blood Oath-sworn initiate."

"Like what I am to E'pire right now?"

"Yes," I nodded. "It's a relationship typically reserved for the cycle preceding a Zhaguai's first Dread, but it can go into effect at any time. My bearer absolved her obligation to me, and I was to transfer into his custody after he completed his own previously scheduled Dread Rite."

Mourning Crow touched my hand.

"He was mortally injured in battle, alive momentarily but unable to fight," I looked my mate in the eye. "The law demands honorable suicide, to prevent offworlders from gaining access to his body and our technology. His choice to follow through did more than preserve his virtue. As my Blood Oath-sworn mentor, his actions protected me from being banished. However, his absence diverted my guardianship to the nearest orphan dormitory."

Mourning Crow took hold of my hand and dragged me back to my sire's holo-plaque. Then she started braiding a thin lock of her hair from behind her neck, plucked two lone strands, and used them to tie off the top and the bottom before unlatching her scythe from her gauntlet and slicing the cord free.

"What are you-?" I was baffled when she handed the slender braid to me.

"Please accept this offering," Mourning Crow knelt down to her knees and prostrated her head to the ground before my sire's mammoth trophy. "Your son needs his quills intact. I'm sure you understand."

"This isn't a grave site," I tried to explain. "Jahaa doesn't practice those sorts of religious rituals."

"But it is a beacon of who he was," my mate stood up. "It's a fact that this monument exists because of him."

Some days, her reductive logic could be infuriatingly brilliant.

"What am I meant to do with this?" I cradled her severed braid of hair in my palm.

"I know it's not the same," Mourning Crow put her hand over mine and gently closed my hand. "When I was young, I wanted to be just like my dad. But no matter how hard I tried, my voice is nothing like his."

Her ears were low but not drooped all the way down.

"He's all R&B with smooth quick lyrics melded into perfectly timed rap," my mate flashed a wistful smile and turned her words up toward my sire's trophy. "I can mimic and perform perfect covers of all his songs, but everything I create slips into ballads and ultimately pure rock & roll. I couldn't sing like him if I wanted to, which I don't need to anymore."

Then she turned to me. "I love his songs with all my heart, even though I'm not so sure he'd enjoy mine. But make no mistake, I stand a hundred percent behind every cord. Just wish I had the chance to sing them to him before all was said and done."

I clutched her braid tighter, though I didn't fully understand why.

"I didn't know your sire," my mate stroked my cheek. "And even though he never got the chance to raise you proper, he recognized your potential and claimed you site-un-seen. He's the first fella to see inside you, and no matter how the cards played out, you're here today because of him."

I had no words. I wanted to kiss her, but something in my chest yearned for so much more.

Mourning Crow released my hand and pointed up at the bleached behemoth. "Find a good spot where no one will see and tie it tight. Bind your burden to this totem and walk away, knowing that you are forever free."

An hour ago, if she had given this instruction, I would have laughed and thought the ceremony silly. Yet, here I was with Mourning Crow's hair in my hand and my mission was clear.

All those cycles ago, Xa'anri took a blood oath to make me his responsibility. Happenstance prevented him from keeping his promise, but now was his chance to finally follow through.

Without hesitation, I shimmed up the underside of the skeleton and secured my past torment to the onerous behemoth that had somehow become the perfect analogy for my sire. Then I slid down back to the ground and took my place next to my future.

...

"Incoming!"

A mustard-yellow Zhaguai male with black stripes and black quills came stumbling out and narrowly missed Mourning Crow. He tripped over and fell on his face, then snarled and struggled to get back on his feet.

"I think it's time to sleep it off, youngblood," a greying blue-tipped Elder guffawed from nearby.

The fallen and clearly drunk yellow and black Zhaguai lurched up and shook his head. He groaned incoherently at the Elder and then lumbered off into the noisy street.

"You're down another one!" The brown and magenta-streaked Elder with a prosthetic eye shouted out to two groups of males holding a thick line of rope while they waited to restart their game of tug-of-war.

One of the groups pointed and roared at the other with one fewer teammate, signaling that it was the smaller team's turn to down another drink.

"Strength and honor," the Elder slapped his thigh, laughing. "These young ones got no stamina!"

Holy Shit! It was Groon.

"I hoped to see you out and about today!" Groon approached us, waving and carrying a large black computer tablet.

I knew the arena signups were taking place in this district, but I didn't expect one of Oru's venerated top five to be out on the street taking names manually.

"How are you enjoying Sahei?" The old warrior swaggered up to my mate. His breath reeked of Ke'ji, despite not possessing a flagon in his hand. "Of all the glories and wonders one can experience within the Nexus, none compare to the majesty of great mating season migration!"

"It's certainly something to sing about!" Mourning Crow bounced on her toes, smiling.

"Oh, now that would be a unique treat!" Groon chittered with hearty delight. "I see you brought your instrument. I hope you plan on doing us all the honor."

"That's the plan," Mourning Crow thumbed back her guitar slung across her back.

"That reminds me, my mate," I opened a small satchel on my belt. "These are for you." I handed her four hand-grenade-sized orbs.

"Now there's a fine bit of trickery I haven't seen in several hundred cycles." Groon leaned in, admiring the old-fashioned baubles.

"They are one of the few tools passed down to me from my sire," I activated one of the orbs. The metal ball flashed green and began hovering in the air. "Remote-control speaker drones. I'll sync them up to your comm."

"We used them to disorient combatants and lure away annoyances," Groon explained. "But they've grown out of style, especially with the new-improved drone options available."

I nodded in agreement. "But they could be quite useful to you. I pre-programmed them to respond to your voice and guitar."

"Show me!" Mourning Crow's ear sprang up.

The floating speakers synchronized in seconds and took their orbit around my mate. She strummed a cord and the sound carried into them and throughout the streets.

"Oooohh!" Mourning Crow cackled in euphoric glee. "I'm not sure this is the right crowd just yet, but I'm gonna use the ever-living shit out of these."

She was right about the crowd. We were smack in the center of the distillery district, the place where all of Sahei's Ke'ji was brewed. The streets were crammed with intoxicated Zhaguai engaged in a variety of drinking games.

The location also explained why Groon chose to volunteer his time and perform an otherwise menial duty personally.

Groon sniffed the air and pitched his head toward Mourning Crow. "I take it, you two are here to officially join the eternal bloodline. Don't know much about razkurs, but from the scent of you," Groon looked down squarely at my mate. "I'd bet my good eye, you're at your peak of fertility."

My long quills flicked involuntarily in annoyance. I knew it was irrational, but I wasn't keen on every nearby male being able to smell that my mate was ovulating.

"What better way to welcome you into Jahaa than to enter The Joust and build an eternal legacy!" Groon bellowed and thumped his chest proudly. "Shall I add your names to the lifemate round?"

"Can we?" Mourning Crow ears fluttered eagerly. "Eh'kt gave me the gist. It sounds a lot like Carnival on Menthla, but no music and a ton of number crunching. But he promises it's a lot of fun!"

Groon opened the screen on his tablet and scrolled quickly through the assorted rounds and lists of names assigned to each.

"Oh, more than fun, it transcends time and space!" Groon puffed his chest in pride and love of his rich culture. "It's a story you'll pass down to all your offspring because that's when you conceived them!"

The Elder guffawed and bumped his fist on my shoulder. Then he raised his arms and went on as though he were retelling an ancient battle fable to pups hunkered around a campfire.

"Millions of Zhaguai from all corners of the universe make the great pilgrimage home to prove their worthiness and expand their bloodline, and The Joust guarantees them all fertile mates. Every round is regimented, excluding the session set aside for lifemates, and we keep the process very civilized and organized. The internal mathematics are highly sophisticated to ensure quality pairings every time. However, the end results aren't always successful. No matter... we all have a good time trying!"

Mourning Crow hung on the Elder's every word. Truth be told, even I was enthralled.

"Go easy on these poor drunk fools," Groon cast his arm at the slurring swarm of Zhaguai bumbling about the street. "For many of these fellas, this will be their only opportunity to mate the entire cycle. An unpleasant state," Groon nudged me with his elbow. "Those of us with mates no longer have to suffer."

I had to nod at that. Thanks to Mourning Crow, I'd never endure another disappointing round in the free-for-all.

"It also allows same-sex lifemates to personally challenge and test the metal of their biological mates and receive quality offspring, without any messy emotional entanglement," Groon continued tapping on his black glass tablet, pointing out names I recognized as his examples. "Still, not everyone enters The Joust. Some prefer to choose a mate personally or opt for both options. Feel free to make use of the abundant rutting huts stationed around the city or, if the mood is right, get down to business right on the street!"

Groon released a boisterous belly laugh and aimed his claw at a pair of males riding bareback against a nearby building.

"We enable special DNA tracking in our comms to monitor and confirm all pairings, plus all matched partners and their offspring are triple-checked to trace lineage and prevent inbreeding," Groon tapped his wristcomm to show the program running passively in the background.

"Less thinky, more fucky," Mourning Crow nodded.

Groon smacked Mourning Crow on the back and laughed so hard he had to wipe away a line of drool. "Precisely!"

The Elder's claws tapped and navigated through the stream of names listed under the free-for-all, the intellect tourney, the dexterity challenge, and finally arrived at the lifemate brawl.

"Here it is," Groon pointed at an empty text box. "Just sign here."

"Actually," I interrupted. "I'm sitting out this year. Put her down for the free-for-all."

"Ni Eh'kt?" My mate's ears arched, confusedly.

Groon pinched his lips shut and watched us quietly.

"It's a tried and tested forum for selecting the strongest," I asserted.

"But none of them have had injections," Mourning Crow ticked her ears sideways. "I thought the plan was to watch and pick from the winners."

"I've been corresponding with Doctor Kazz'mon. She has the means to make any donation temporarily viable," I confessed. "I was hesitant to bring it up because it requires that you receive a small injection and there's very a limited window of viability. We have to be punctual with our timing."

Mourning Crow narrowed her eyes.

"Here's a copy of Kazz'mon's confirmation," I turned to Groon and forwarded the message to his wristcomm to confirm Mourning Crow's eligibility. Then I stood firmly before my mate and stared directly at her. "I've done my part this morning and I'll do it again tonight. You need only decimate the competition and gather the most powerful sample."

"And you're ok with this?" My mate scoured my face for any hint of deception.

"In this moment," I lowered my face to hers and growled. "There is nothing I want more!"

Mourning Crow stared at me silently for a moment, then turned to Groon with a shrug. "You heard him."

...

In order to make good on my assertion, I needed to stop by Kazz'mon's office and collect a freshly synthesized solution. The good doctor was out, occupied in her own Convergence activities, but her assistant was still on duty.

To my astonishment, the injection came in the form of a tiny painless hypospray.

In hindsight, it probably wasn't wise to leave Mourning Crow in Groon's company. The old warrior was fascinated by her musical ability and insisted on escorting her to his favorite tavern frequented by seasoned champions of Groon's generation, whom he claimed possessed a higher tolerance for Ke'ji.

.

.

"No, no," Groon slurred at two other Elder Zhaguais. "You go high, he's low. I'm in the middle. You heard how the razkur did it."

The three began garbling out a series of death-rattle howls, each at different octaves.

"Much better!" Groon cheered. "Again!"

I scanned the dark-lit tavern for my mate and eventually spotted her face down on a table surrounded by a pack of rugged retired soldiers.

"What happened to her?" I sidled up to her nearest neighbor.

"She had one drink and passed out," the surly Elder grumbled.

There was a large flagon next to my mate's head, full to the brim and cooled to room temperature. Apparently, one drink meant one sip.

"Hey, hey. Wake up!" A belligerent green and silver male with one giant horn leaned across the table and slapped his massive hand onto the surface. "Finish your tale about your final battle in Thorngate!"

"What!?" Mourning Crow's head shot up. "Oh... yeah, the only other survivor was Red Spider."

"The archer," the male's eyes were half-glazed and his tone was heavy with skepticism.

"Yeah," Mourning Crow's cadence started to speed up despite being barely able to hold up her head. "Back home he was a bounty hunter, shooting bad guys for money. Like me, he figured out how to kill Graven without going crazy."

"It doesn't make any sense," the male snorted in derision.

"Well, it's not too difficult. You just have to rely on your weapon and not get greedy," Mourning Crow rubbed her eyes and shook her head. "Is anyone else having trouble seeing? The colors don't match the shapes."

"Nooo," the gnarly-toothed male jeered. "How did you sing all the time and not get beaned through the eyes by a sniper?"

"Oh, ha!" Mourning Crow's laughter was shifting into manic. "First few centuries, singing was a bad idea. Yeah, best to keep your mouth shut. But halfway in, belting out songs took on a whole new meaning. After all the pacifists died off, if you heard someone singing, it was a warning or to lure out opponents. We established territories and formed loose alliances. I wrote and sang dozens of songs serenading Red Spider and frequently dared him to shoot at me and give up his location."

My mate huffed a little and with her ears twitching in agitation.

"He'd sing back to me as well, but only through echos and jury-rigged speakers. I don't really like to talk about it," she spasmed a smile and started bouncing her knee under the table.

"Stirs up memories I haven't sifted through in ages. All bad... I was soo damn hungry, my hands were shaking. I could see the Graven swarming in the distance..."

My mate's eyes were distant, and I dreaded which horrendous memory she was envisioning.

"Centuries of killing leading to this," Mourning Crow's voice crackled with frantic energy. "I killed Red Spider in a swamp and the fight took hours... I didn't have time to scavenge..."

Shit, I knew Thorngate was bad but to be pushed to cannibalism...

Fortunately, everyone within earshot was beyond plastered and failed to realize my mate was recounting the day she devoured Red Spider's bones in order to have the strength to defeat the final horde of Graven.

"What was the killing blow?" The male salivated forward.

"She said," I slammed my knuckles down on the table. "She didn't want to talk about it."

"Ni Eh'kt!" Mourning Crow sprang from her chair, climbed up my chest with a gigantic smile, and covered me in frisky kisses. "Has anyone ever told you, you taste like rainbows and Fizzy Bubble-corn?"

The Elder Zhaguais seated around us chuckled.

"No," I stroked my mate's white hair. "But I'm certain I will hear it many times from now on."

Mourning Crow nuzzled her face into my long quills and suddenly started purring.

The abrupt vibration startled the entire table of languid Elders into wide-eye curious glances.

I wasn't against demonstrating my mate's sexual talents in front of these grizzled old timers, but never while Mourning Crow was this heavily intoxicated.

"You should fight the fish people," Mourning Crow's mind ping-ponged randomly. "They're assholes. No music in their blood at all."

"I don't think that's a standard we grade potential adversaries," I chittered and tried to soothe her purring down.

"Here," my mate raised her wristcomm and zoomed in on a star chart onto a closeup of an unevaluated planet. "I found a bunch of the worlds I visited. The Institute already knows but you can have a copy."

There it was, a treasure trove of untested species, but all residing on planets once infected by the Graven.

"My mate," I drew her attention off my neck. "Perhaps now is the opportune time to test out your new speakers?"

"You're right!" Mourning Crow's ears flexed wide with excitement as she hopped from my arms and scooped up her guitar. "I have the perfect set for your street fucking festival!"

Then she kissed my cheek and took off out the door.

"It's not a -" I tried calling out after, to correct her, but let it go with a sigh. "Thank you, my mate. Your offering is most appreciated."

I could feel the eyes of the Elders resting on me while the sound of my mate's perfectly pitched voice filled the air outside.

"I've never understood," one of the old males thrummed. "Why do other species waste so much time chasing pleasure when mating is only about getting the job done?"

"For razkurs," I remarked. "Pleasure is an integral part of mating. Their orgasms last anywhere from two to eight minutes."

The room of Elder quieted as we listened to my mate singing passionately in Ahnzi.

"I imagine if any of us were even half as physically capable," I added with a laugh. "We'd be outside beside her singing to all the world about screwing."

.

.

.

TRANSLATIONS:

U'la'ke = alien cat species that are mortal enemies of the Zhaguai. Have stinger tails with paralytic venom. Known as "The Felija" to humans. They live in large Prides. The Lieges are the biggest, are both sexes, have large manes, and thirteen tails.

Ke'ji = spicy/warm/hot alcohol

Ni Eh'kt = My Heartbeat/Bonded

Author's Note:

Next chapter will be🔥🔥🔥 !!!

Thank you for reading.

If you're enjoying please remember to click the ⭐star⭐to vote and help others discover this book. 

Wattpad counts votes for each chapter. 

And as always, comments are most appreciated.

~A. E. Shelly (a.k.a. Oloo)