"I had a twin brother," Shale confessed. "His name was Tharu. He died saving my life in the middle of our ninth cycle."

I put down my flank of lamb and scanned the empty officer's commissary for abnormalities. No, I wasn't dreaming. Shale requested I join him for an early meal before the standard day shift, and I was instinctually concerned that he arranged for us to eat alone. I could only surmise that this unscheduled meeting resulted from a deficiency in my performance as his Adjutant.

But THIS... It was completely unexpected!

"I've never spoken of him to anyone after my first Dread," the red Forged warrior continued. "It was pointless talking about it with my bearer and my sire struggled to understand the connection between identical twin brothers."

It had been two days since Mourning Crow sang to her sire's gravesite. I remember the shock of seeing her visage on multiple monitors while unknowingly sharing an intimate performance over a citywide broadcast. She looked invincible and her voice... I could see it on the razkurs' faces. Mourning Crow's songs had invaded their hearts like wildfire.

And then she collapsed.

My first impulse was to hurry back to the Black Needle, but I made sure to smooth the incident over with Karwarak's ruling council. However, it appeared Mourning Crow's emotional breakdown quashed the unfounded doubts in her identity. Plus, Shale's swift intervention, despite demonstrating one of our most potent technological armaments, became widely admired.

According to all of my interactions and collected data since that night, the merger was going well.

None of our crew questioned Shale's actions, and I was grateful that he responded quickly. Mourning Crow was a member of Jahaa. We protect one another.

Shale returned her to our quarters and sat with her, letting her cry on his chest until my arrival. He tried to exit quietly, but Mourning Crow insisted I stay beside her and refused to release Shale's arm until morning.

"As you know," Shale kept his eyes on mine. "Our training as pups is strict from the moment we're able to stand unaided, a necessity for redirecting the fury in our blood, and as offsprings of a member of the Council of Ancients, Tharu and I were given no option for failure."

"I knew you had a sibling. That much was documented," I commented. "I had no idea he was a twin. Though that explains why I never came across his birth notation in a neighboring cycle."

"To our bearer," Shale frowned. "His death resolved her dilemma of which of us was the more worthy to nurture. His life was so brief she didn't waste time on detailed documentation."

"Preparing one unDreaded pup for its final cycle before the trial is a difficult all-consuming task on its own," my eyes wandered down. This was something I often reminded myself of many times after my own bearer abandoned me.

Creating an honorable Zhaguai takes more than a few fleeting seconds. Every solo-bearing female is responsible for her pup's training before their Dread Ritual. The choice of bearing a pup is a prestigious rite of passage unique to females that requires decades of preparation, endurance, integrity, a quality suiter, and the ability to make painfully decisive decisions. More than honor is on the line. Producing consistently weak pups who fail to survive their initiation trial could result in deadly consequences.

"Two at once, I imagine, must be daunting," I reflected. "Even for an Ancient."

"I make no complaint, nor any excuses," Shale nodded and sighed. "I only wish to convey that I understand what it is to carry an internal burden in silence."

Mourning Crow and I suspected the Shale was keeping something concealed, but my guess was that it was connected to a Dread or his time serving in the military. But a twin... They're extremely rare. It's common during gestation but for Zhaguai, one twin always absorbs the other in the first trimester.

And how is it that he's disclosing this to me instead of Mourning Crow? He hardly grumbles when she's around.

"We were together every day from the moment we took our first breaths," Shale settled in his chair, no longer interested in eating his breakfast. "Tharu was always a little quicker than me when it came to learning new techniques, but I was faster and stronger. Our bearer would often pit us against each other, but it never worked. Our strengths and weaknesses always complimented one another. It's kind of funny, when you have someone who looks and speaks exactly like you, every difference between you is treasured."

The Forged warrior flexed his claws on the table while grinding his fangs.

"That day we were spearfishing in a river up north, near my sire's home," Shale's eyes were on me, but his gaze was distant. "A large vau'puk leaped out as I was returning to shore. I froze and it took me down, but Tharu threw himself in and pushed it off me. He killed it with his bare claws but lost too much of his own blood in the process."

Shale stood up and raked his thick black claw over a series of old, long scars stretching diagonally below his belly button. Then he sat back down.

"No one else witnessed the mauling and when I tried to retell what happened, my bearer silenced me and decreed I was the more worthy offspring. After that, I lost the will to speak for an entire cycle."

Shale's rumble shifted into an angry clicking.

"My bearer claimed the pain would fade but his loss clings to me to this very day," the Forged turned his head. "I know it was not her intention to be cruel. She was simply doing the best that she was able. Can you think of any Zhaguai equipt to help an unDreaded pup navigate such a battle?"

"Perhaps one who lost a lifemate," I offered.

"That's what my sire's thinking," Shale lowered his eyes. "But my bearer forbade it. She claimed it would disrupt my training schedule. Then, a few months after I began speaking again, I started having... incidents."

I unconsciously crooked my head sideways.

"Shortness of breath, nausea, my vision would grey out, and tingling or sometimes numbness in my limbs. It seemed random, and I never knew when or where an attack would strike," Shale admitted. "I never faltered in my training and Medical insisted I was fine but the attacks would occur so frequently that my bearer was at her wit's end. Finally, she gave in and made an agreement. That for as long as I maintained steady progress in my training, I would dwell with my sire on alternate cycles and during that time, he would oversee whatever treatment he saw fit."

"Your treatment," I leaned in. "Does it have something to do with why you gravitate toward cold weather?"

Shale's eyes went wide and he rumbled in laughter. "Mourning Crow wasn't kidding when she said you were thorough. You really do, do your homework on your intended opponents!"

"Actually," I smiled. "I only noticed after becoming your Adjutant."

"Then all the more reason to keep you close," Shale chuckled. "But, yes. It plays a role. One of my sire's friends from Clan Asepa lost her mate several centuries ago. She would take me hunting on one of her clan's uninhabited wilderness planets. During one trip, I was crossing a frozen lake when an attack kicked in. I miss-stepped on thin ice and fell underwater. She got me out safely, but we also discovered that the shock to my system did wonders for getting my body under control. Couldn't tell you why, but it worked and I make use of it daily."

"It never went away?" I couldn't help but express my disappointment.

"No," Shale shook his head. "I manage and I make a point every day to be the Zhaguai my brother would have been. Tharu may have died early. but he was never weak or timid. Also... I'll accept your abdication from being my Adjutant without question if you think this is crazy... I come home every evening and tell him about the things he would have done."

"Does he talk back?" I raised my brow with an inquiring grin.

"No," Shale shook his head with a snicker. "No matter how many times I've wished for it."

"Your sire's friend," I dared to release the words from my lips. "Is she still alive?"

"For Mourning Crow?" Shale cut the chase.

I dipped my head reluctantly. "You noticed."

"Fragments," Shale relaxed in his chair. "Little things only someone who's lived it could spot."

"Her incidents are different," my throat trembled. "Violent."

"Eh'kt, hear my words because I speak as the voice of Jahaa," Shale's voice came out gravely and somber. "Mourning Crow is not alone. And neither are you. She is of Jahaa and she is wounded. If you and her permit it, I am here to help."

"I didn't know who to speak to," I felt dizzy, elated, and petrified. "Or if it was safe for Mourning Crow. I didn't want to risk her being marked as Hollow."

"Neither do I," Shale lunged his head at me. "Music is a bandaid. She will need to confront everything that happened and come to terms with every concession she made for self-preservation. This is the only path to keep her path pure."

"And when she discloses all that she's done-"

Shale raised his hand to hush me. "All of Jahaa's High Council, The Council of Ancients, and the Supreme Nexus Matriarchy have reviewed Mourning Crow's account of Thorngate. We are aware of the savagery that transpired. The law is clear. She was not of Jahaa. Oru's command for Mourning Crow to undergo the Dread Rite was not to appease our political objectors. It's an impenetrable line that the events of Thorngate can never trespass."

I've never been more grateful for my clan and its Elder. Oru did more than protect my lifemate. She preserved my life and the lives of our future offspring.

"How do we uphold the bulwark?" I raised my head.

"Today, we talk," Shale leaned back and smiled. "Mourning Crow is with Standing Otter today visiting the remaining family in her sire's tribe. I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of sending a bodyguard with her and tasked the razkur with keeping an eye on her. I warned him to be especially wary when she starts talking fast. It's a dead giveaway she's all nerves."

"And small birds pecking," I added.

Shale's eyebrow shot up. "Make a list. We'll have her bodyguard pass the message along discreetly."

"And what about after we return to Sahei?" I looked to Shale.

"I will make arrangements for her to go on a joint training exercise with select members of Clan Asepa," Shale straightened his neck.

"Not you?"

"I can't be objective," Shale shook his head with a cool grin.

"Why is that?" I narrowed my eyes at him.

Shale's throat hitched mid-breath and his jaw locked up agape. It was obvious the Forged had spoken too casually, and now his brain was scrambling to concoct a believable excuse.

Lucky for him, our wristcomms buzzed in unison. It was time to return to Menthla.

...

Most of the Envoy armada returned home to Sahei while the remaining ships divided into three units.

The first consisted of the Black Needle and a small complement of raider-class light cruisers for defense and transport.

The second group dispersed around Menthla's star system to survey the damage of whatever catastrophe had befallen the planet. Per my suggestion, we invited the razkurs to join the expedition. The slow rebuild of their society and inability to mine deeply within their planet had severely stunted their once thriving space program, but they had plenty of recovered star charts and documents to aid in the assignment.

The third group came equipped with specialized sensors and was led by members of Lor's Graven Taskforce. Menthla was a planet with documented Graven activity, and because of the abominations' ability to resurrect after long spans of dormancy, all precautions were being taken.

Clusters of delegates were arriving almost hourly from the numerous city-states that made up the Lyca Unified Territories and preparations were in the works to arrange a formal gathering between the razkur nation and our people. In the meantime, the Council of Karwarak arranged for several large-scale combat challenges to show off Menthla's natural beauty and provide hospitality to their new off-world visitors.

Shale and I were among the main Coyo expedition party led by Lost Coyote. We were to be accompanied by the Speaker of Lyca Unified Territories Senate. Other Zhaguai competed for slots through a series of tournaments held aboard the remaining ships. The crew was in high spirits and we were all eager to get our claws bloody.

"Hey!" Lost Coyote waved to us as we exited the cruiser. "Right on time."

We found the campsite packed with smartly armed razkurs and there was a peculiar game going on between a number of young warriors. They were standing loosely in a circle, flinging a small sack around with their ears and chiming in with weird chants when particular types of tosses and catches occurred. Then they'd frolic around in different locations at random.

"They truly are a frivolous species," Shale cocked his head sideways.

"Mmm..." I agreed. "With bottomless appetites."

Shale recoiled slightly, choking on his own spit while scowling at me.

No, my Primary. I'm never going to forget your slip-up this morning.

I stepped forward to greet Lost Coyote and kept my self-satisfied smirk to myself.

Shale growled and shook his quills before straightening up and reclaimed his imposing demeanor.

Each Zhaguai in our landing party split off into their correct expedition groups with no need of assistance and made their proper introductions.

"Oh, wow," Lost Coyote stood in awe of our efficiency. "You guys are organized."

"We've studied the dossiers you provided us on Menthla's wildlife. Our warriors are prepared to engage with their prospective prey," I commented. "But, on the blood of my ancestors, we will heed your guidance throughout the operation. These are your sacred hunting grounds."

Shale and I saluted in unison.

"You honor us with this challenge," the red Forged dipped his head, letting his more forward long quills hang down.

"Yeah.." Lost Coyote nodded hesitantly. "We're happy to have you here too."

"Oh, this was well worth taking the red-eye from Cayport!" A tall, muscular middle-aged female razkur approached. Half her face was scarred from an old burn and the eye on that side was permanently sealed shut. She had her long white hair braided and pinned up and wore tactical shorts with knee pads and a light leather shoulder harness to carry her blackjack baton.

"Senator Night Rain," Lost Coyote bowed her head.

"G'morning, Captain, Shale, Eh'kt," the Senator tipped her head. "And what a fine day to face death!"

A dozen flatbed land rovers pulled up and circled the main camp.

"Look alive!" Senator Night Rain shouted with a clap. "Load up, let's get this party started!"

...

"No," Shale explained to the Senator during our journey east into the Coyo Reserve. "There are only two other clans as large as Jahaa. Most others are small and nomadic. Only about a dozen possess permanent homeworlds, but many clans of various sizes maintain diverse wildness and treasury planets."

"What's the difference between the two?" Lost Coyote inquired from the opposite side of our flatbed transport.

"A wilderness planet is a territory protected by a specific clan. It remains untouched by technology and no one is permitted permanent residence. We use them for combat and survival training," I explained. "A treasury planet is purely for preserving prized species from extinction. No one beyond the assigned caretakers are permitted access, excluding special circumstances. Should any of the inhabitants cease to exist on their homeworld, we arrange to seed a new population on a compatible uninhabited planet."

"Are all your clans members of the Nexus?" Senator Night Rain turned her attention to the giant red Forged.

"Yes and no," Several of Shale's quills twisted, contemplating how best to elaborate. "As Zhaguai, we are all loosely tethered within the Nexus. It's similar to being labeled an inhabitant of Menthla. You just are. However, not all clans have a voice in the ruling councils, mostly for reasons rooted in selfishness."

"From your Envoy display," the Senator rotated her ears forward. "I take it Jahaa's voice carries a lot of sway."

"Hmm.." Shale nodded. "It is a status our Elders from the beginning made great strides in securing. Unlike the majority of Zhaguai, we're atheists. In the early days, Jahaa was merely a refuge for exiled non-believers. We didn't have a homeworld and had to remain hidden. In time, we became an official clan. Growing our numbers was a necessity to better protect our members from persecution. Some clans continue to consider us outlaws and don't recognize our standing in the Nexus councils but those numbers are in the single digits and the few remaining holdouts are the archaic zealots who also unfavorably preach for a return to the ancient days when our people engaged in slavery."

"That's..." Senator Night Rain wrenched her ears back in horror. "How awful! I'm glad to hear your people have evolved beyond such atrocities."

"As am I," Shale rumbled in agreement. "It was a vile practice and a blatant weakness. Jahaa will not go backward."

The rover slowed down and entered a narrow crevasse, then eventually arrived in a wide clearing.

"Thanks, fellas," Senator Night Rain slapped the metal side of the flatbed and hopped out with a bounce to her step.

We learned that before her political career; she was a former soldier and a renowned hunter in the western territories in her youth. She was also born of a synthetic parent and two naturals. The razkurs spoke of the deviation with the casualness one might have for being born cesarean versus vaginal. There wasn't even a line to blur between the two variations, just a minor detail to alert a doctor while at a hospital to receive the proper treatment.

Our small but highly capable hunting party entered an abandoned playground leftover from the long-dead Iddril civilization. A bent, rusted roundabout squeaked as it spun slowly in the breeze.

"They're below," Lost Coyote pointed to the dilapidated entrance of an old underground Iddril transit system. "Don't worry, we cleared the radiation back when the reserve was first established."

Coyo were big with their matriarchs often growing larger than an adult male hippo. The documentation provided to us by the Captain of Karwarak's City Guard, Lost Coyote, detailed that they were highly intelligent mammalian pack hunters with sleek brown fur, razor-sharp beaks, and barbed tongues specialized for pulverizing stone to digest their fleshy meals. They were also highly perceptive predators who hunted by keen sight and sound, with a preference for blending into their surroundings and ambushing prey.

The beasts contained no nutritional value to the razkurs, as their skeletal system was toxic, but their blood and organs possessed a great number of medicinal values. It was necessary when we made our kill to do so in a particular method to preserve the organics.

It was common practice to let them be and only cull the weakest when their numbers strained the lesser game of their protected habitats. However, today we hunted a matriarch, a big one who had amassed too much territory and her reign was harming the health of the preserve and the neighboring packs within it.

Shale and I snapped on our helmets as we entered the tunnels, then activated the visors and extended mouth guards to seal our face beneath metal.

"How do we go about getting one of those?" Lost Coyote ogled our adjustable armaments.

"Right now," I whispered, communicating to the razkur via a discreet comm-link in her ear. "You would have to kill Shale and I to claim one, and then deal with the repercussions of Jahaa."

Lost Coyote flapped her ears and wobbled her head in a sarcastic manner I learned from my mate translated to 'well duh'.

"All technologies and intelligence are open for exchange between clans within the Nexus. One needs only to gain permission from their Elder to petition for civil combat."

"That's all?" Lost Coyote quirked her eyebrow.

"A powerful champion represents each clan," I clarified. "The battle can result in death, though it is not required to demonstrate victory."

"Including the Lycon Territories if we choose to join the Nexus?" Senator Night Rain interjected.

"Yes," I nodded and proceeded to prowl deeper into the darkness.

I took point beside Lost Coyote, letting Shale converse with the Senator behind us. In a group mission, it was the duty of the Adjutant to shield their Primary from any incoming danger as well as divert any nearby enemies, leaving Shale's claws clean and free to engage more valuable targets.

"Would it be possible for any of us to visit Sahei?" Lost Coyote whispered to me. "I'd like to see the type of game you all are accustomed to hunting."

"The only worthy game on Sahei are tailless Zhaguai," I chittered brazenly. "If you wish it, we welcome the challenge."

"To the death?" Lost Coyote turned to me in trepidation.

"Such contests are common between allied clans," I flashed my fangs, knowing the razkur could hear me smile. "The rules of a mutual duel are always instance specific and agreed upon ahead of time."

"No repercussions?" Lost Coyote's ears went asymmetrical, but the side of her mouth curled up.

"Only if there is weakness or cowardice," I had to restrain myself from thrumming proudly. This mission was my priority, but establishing an opportunity to fight razkurs without pissing off my mate was a venture I couldn't squander.

Haggard wheezing echoed throughout the tunnels. Lost Coyote pointed her ears toward a passageway leading down.

Even a pup could sense the foul sound led into a trap. But as Night Rain had explained during our drive into the barren wilderness, the best way to lure a Coyo out was to bait it with something delicious.

Lost Coyote closed her eyes. Unlike Mourning Crow, the captain was professionally trained and had never been forced to compete to the brink of madness.

An elderly male Coyo was huffing down the far end of a broken subway station platform.

"Don't be fooled," Lost Coyote motioned with her ears to the flickering heat signatures moving around us in the distance.

I followed the razkur's cues and split off to the left while she crept up a shallow shelf running along the right wall.

Lost Coyote barked from afar and manipulated her echo to funnel the ever-encroaching Coyo pack toward a hobbled bench in the back.

Behind us, Shale and the Senator took defensive positions, and the tunnels behind us were being quietly blocked off by gathering Coyo.

There was movement all around us, but the chamber was completely silent.

RAAWK!

A giant clawed paw swiped at my head.

Thunk!

Lost Coyote's mace collided with a beak the size of her head.I ducked and tackled my assailant. It was a medium-sized beta male.

Do not kill.

I slammed the creature into the wall and smashed a large boulder into its head. It squawked and growled but wobbled as it tried to regain its footing on all four legs.

Shale roared from the back as he and the Senator battled five Coyo in the middle of the room. Then I heard heavy breathing and turned to find the profile of a giant rearing up behind me.

The matriarch!

She was sculpted from solid hate.

"Push her toward the wall!" Senator Night Rain shouted. "We'll hold the others back."

I sidestepped the matriarch and spun a small blunt warhammer free to whack her massive paws away from my face.

She screeched and called in two omega females to slash up my back, forcing me to twirl and deflect their attacks.

Senator Night Rain swept her blackjack at their legs, diverting their attention off me before the Matriarch took her turn.

"She's all yours, Eh'kt!" Shale called out from his own cluster of Coyo.

I roared an affirmative, then locked my hands inside of her beak and seized the matriarch's head mid-bite to fling her sideways into the cave wall.

Her barbed tongue raked across my fingers but the prickling was negligible against my thick scaly skin. It would have been simple to eject my dagger and impale her brain at this close proximity, but the eyes and brain needed to be collected in pristine condition.

I pried her mouth open beyond the point of inflicting pain and ignored the sharp tip of her beak digging into my palm. She backed away, desperate to shake her head loose, but I refused to let go.

Now to get her in position!

More Coyo charged in from the auxiliary tunnels.

The razkurs weren't kidding when they said her pack had grown too large!

"Shale!" Senator Night Rain called out. "Cull the smallest males. Lost Coyote and I will tend to the girls."

Shale and the razkurs unhooked a handful of constrictor-collars from their belts and got busy collaring their targets.

As for my prey, she frothed drool around my claws with my sticky warm blood smeared all over her face. I leaned forward and shoved, brute forcing her back one slow step at a time into a concave corner while biding my time for the precise moment to strike.

"You've got her!" Lost Coyote hooted as she collared another Coyo.

The matriarch's beak tip sank in and out the other side of my palm. I needed to make my move soon.

She continued swiping her paws between steps but my height and stretched-out arms made it impossible for her to make contact.

Almost!

Her hind end bumped into the corner and the matriarch slammed her head into the nearest wall, knocking my hands loose, and allowed her opportunity to ram me backward into a column behind me. I heard some of my ribs crack, but moved before she could squash me.

She roared and I punched her in the jaw.

Amazing! Her bones felt like striking reinforced concrete.

The matriarch slumped her head, signaling her intent to charge.

And up!

I climbed up and banked off the column, then leaped over her head, taking a nimble roost on top of her shoulders.

SHINK!

I plunged a single dagger neatly at the base of her skull, cognizant of the angle and ensuring not to spill blood.

The matriarch roared and reared up and then tumbled back with me pinned beneath her and then died.

"Nice work," Lost Coyote strolled up a few moments later, smiling down at me with my lower half pinned under the giant Coyo.

"And you kept your knife in place," Senator Night Rain chuckled.

"One sec," Lost Coyote shook out a wide specially designed plastic bag and clipped it in place by the wound. "Okay, you can yank."

I slid the blade loose while Lost Coyote caught the overflow.

"Anything broken?" Senator Night Rain knelt beside me as we waited for the matriarch's blood to drain. The remainder of the pack had been culled or neutralized and with their leader dead, the surviving beasts knew it was time to retreat.

"Nothing vital," I scanned my hands and ribs.

Several minutes later, the razkurs concurred it was ok to roll the dead Coyo off me.

"One, two-" Shale and the females shoved in unison.

The weight of the furry boulder finally subsided.

"Fuck!" Shale's darted for his medkit.

There was a fresh puncture in my thigh caused by a stray length of rebar and without pressure from the matriarch's body, the wound started to bleed.

Shale applied pressure with one hand while plucking the orange hyper-dose syringe and the auto-cauterizer with the other. The razkurs approached, hoping to offer assistance, but Shale's reflexes had the blood flow under control in seconds. I hissed and grit my fangs when the compound seared through my bloodstream.

"Was it really that bad?" I panted and waited for my insides to cool down. "I barely felt anything."

"The metal severed an artery," Shale turned to me seriously. "Tharu died from such an injury."

...

Just before evening, all the expedition parties had regrouped at camp, bringing with them tales of glory and fantastic new trophies to add to their collections.

Our Coyos required a professional harvest crew but once concluded, I demonstrated to Lost Coyote and Senator Night Rain how we prepare the bones for display.

"You appear almost healed," Lost Coyote remarked as I handed her the canister containing the UV sealant spray.

"That's because he is," Shale's brilliant red eyes glimmered in the setting sunlight.

"We heal quickly, naturally," I explained. "But our med kits can have us up and ready to fight in minutes."

"Though the integrated stimulants only last a few hours," Shale added.

"Well, hopefully, you don't knock out too early," Senator Night Rain held her ears perky and casual. "Tonight's the parade and all Zhaguai are welcome to join in the celebration."

"Yes," I nodded while guiding Lost Coyote's hand with the sprayer over the Coyo skull. "Mourning Crow and I chose to take your offer for lodging in the city tonight and plan to spend the evening exploring the city. She also mentioned there was something special going on for the Abura."

"Yes!" Senator Night Rain's ears sprang up. "There's a concert at the museum for the sentinel and the nymph. He refused to leave the nymph unattended, so we're bringing the music to him. Do you think there's any chance Mourning Crow might be convinced to get on stage and share a few of her songs? Her melodies are addictive."

"I will ask," I angled my head. "But I make no promises."

"Excellent work, Lost Coyote," Shale leaned down to inspect the razkurs efforts in preserving her first Coyo skull.

"Thanks," the captain flicked her ears proudly. "Looks almost good enough to eat."

Shale raised his brow momentarily, then let loose a chuckle.

"Oh, Senator," I turned to the warrior politician. "Do the orgies still take place after dark during Carnival? According to my mate, her sire regarded them highly."

Shale's jaw constricted shut as he stared at me wide-eyed.

"Yes, they continue," the Senator bobbed her head. "However, they're smaller scale than they used to be and now they begin after midnight. Of course, you two are more than welcome to join, but you will have to endure a great many spectators. Though, considering the description of your people's mating season rituals, I doubt that will be an issue."

...

"I think it's this way," I pointed up the street.

"Hmm.." Shale grumbled.

I knew exactly what perturbed him, but I refused to let Shale's conservative personal boundaries spoil my good mood.

"It's alright if this errand is too far out of the way," I spoke to my Primary without turning back at his scowling face. "I can complete the task alone if you wish to return to the Senator and the Council."

"I've spoken enough of politics," Shale sighed, ignoring the stares of the civilian razkurs gawking at us as we passed by. "And there's not enough time to return to the Black Needle for a decent nap before the Abura concert."

"Our lodging is nearby," I typed on my comm and copied Shale on the location of the hotel the Council provided. "Mourning Crow should have returned some time ago. She won't mind if you stop by and rest."

"Sure... just invite ...mmmrr... anyone in your bed," Shale mumbled under his breath.

I came to a full halt and jutted my head up to his face. "Do you have something to say?"

Shale flicked his quills in irritation. "No."

"Why?"

Shale's eyes simmered with animosity, but he maintained his stubborn silence.

I seethed out a breath and then turned back toward my original trajectory.

"The orgies have nothing to do with procreation," I finally spoke up. "In fact, they require all participants to use contraception."

Shale didn't respond but continued marching behind me.

"There are no religious affiliations," I explained. "But the ceremony is considered a spiritual ritual."

We turned right under a street lamp.

"I can't give Mourning Crow her sire," I couldn't help but stop. "But I can facilitate an experience to connect her to him."

"There has to be a better way," Shale finally contributed.

"What makes it lesser?" I turned to him.

"Are you intentionally being dense?" Shale narrowed his eyes.

I twisted my head, patiently waiting for him to express his thoughts.

"I didn't save your life today so you could pass your mate off to strangers and watch them exploit her bereavement for their personal satisfaction," Shale rumbled in my face.

"Then why did you save it?" I crossed my arms.

"You're my Adjutant," Shale deflected with a scoff.

I leaned forward. "Why wasn't your offer this morning impartial?"

Shale backed away, eyeing me apprehensively.

"It's getting late," Shale shook his quills and tried to walk around me. "We should-"

I grabbed his arm.

"Enough!" Shale growled and pulled away. He strolled further up the street and then stood still, hissing indignantly. "I'm done with your head games."

"And I'm exhausted with yours," I sighed sternly.

"Rrrrrhh! Fine!" Shale stomped at me, curling his lips and spraying flecks of spittle on my face. "I want Mourning Crow!"

He stood face to face with me, chest heaving and quills writhing in silent anxiety.

"Every day, she's all I can think about," the Forged shouted. "Her smell, her laugh, the way she plucks her guitar, and the way swings her little scythe like it's fucking a third arm! And the sight of you torments me equally because you are her mate and one of the most diligent Zhaguai I've ever had the honor to serve with! There! Is that what you want to hear?"

"Yes."

Shale growled and pinched his fangs shut.

"We've been subtle long enough," I confessed. "All three of us."

.

.

.

TRANSLATIONS:

Vau'puk = large wild cat-like creature

Author's Note:

Thank you for reading.

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