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The Sands of Argurumal (Argurma Salvager Book 3) Page 5


  Veral had noted the action but dismissed it as foolish dominating behavior from a male not yet old enough to know better. He would not have come to the same conclusions as his mate. He did not recall if he made such gestures when he was a young male, although he did recall following males around whom he wished to learn from and observing them obsessively.

  He huffed in annoyance.

  “He will not follow me around,” he growled. “I will make certain of it. His duty is to guard you only.”

  Terri chuckled and brushed her fingertips over his brow, up to the edge of the small horns that rested just below the bony plating that framed his fore-vibrissae. The tissue beneath the plating was incredibly sensitive, and the light pressure from her fingers made him sigh in pleasure and lean into her touch. He indulged for several minutes but withdrew to see to it that they were wiped clean with a damp cloth and settled comfortably in bed. Once he had her in his arms again, he rested his jaw on top of her head, his hands stroking her arms and back until he felt his mate relax and eventually succumb to slumber.

  Although he joined her, he remained partially alert. He did not bother to reset the locks if there was any chance of anyone else being able to hack the system. Instead, as he rested, he monitored his surroundings for any intrusion. Although there was a chance that his aunt would welcome him without contest, it was not significant enough for him to surrender his safeguards. Especially not with the new information presented to him. Featha appeared to be determined to keep control of the household, and that did not bode well. From what Navesha said, his aunt had been working to turn the household against his choice of mate, no doubt with the goal of striking his direct line from that of the household. What more might she do if that failed?

  More than anything, Veral desired to take his family and leave.

  7

  The gathering room of the household was massive. With the long, cushioned benches and chairs around a central hearth she might have compared it to a living room on Earth, except it had the size and grandeur of a castle from a fairytale. An Argurma with dark charcoal scales on her body and vibrissae sat in a large throne-like chair before the rest of the household, her face set in ruthless lines as Terri neared at Veral’s side.

  Every Argurma assembled in the room ranged from black to dark gray, each with the same glowing cybernetic scarring on their bodies, though there seemed to be some variety in where it appeared. Like Veral, much of it was facial, no doubt due to the implants in their brains and skulls, right down to their glowing eyes.

  Terri’s eyes ran over the crowd until they rested on Dreth’s stoic face from where he stood just off to the side of the throne. Standing at attention a short distance from him was Navesha, a sort of mechanical spear at her side which she gripped with one large hand. This wasn’t the casual, mocking female from the night before. Instead, every muscle was stiff with tension.

  It was a bit much for a family reunion.

  She glanced warily at her mate, but Veral’s eyes were locked on his aunt with a sort of a predatory stillness about him despite his long stride. He didn’t stop until he came just several feet shy of where she sat. She fought back a proud smile as she observed just how regal and strong her mate looked. Spine straight, he had abandoned his tunic and pants for the black leather armor of a warrior, giving him an air of deadly power as he faced them.

  Terri wore the same attire, her flexible armor clinging to her like a second skin, although it emphasized her swollen belly. It had seemed strange at the time when he insisted that they wear it, but now she was glad for the extra protection, and the fact that they had Dreth, and possibly Navesha, in their corner—even though she could easily believe otherwise with the blank, cold way they now regarded her and Veral.

  It didn’t mean anything.

  Her skin prickled as Featha leaned forward on her throne, elbows braced on the armrests as she clasped her hands in front of her. The female’s eyes were penetrating as they narrowed on Terri—more specifically on her rounded belly—before they pierced Veral with a look of distinct disapproval.

  “Now that I see with my own eyes that you have mated and bred an offworlder...I ask you why you have come and brought that… primitive beast here?”

  Terri’s head whipped back with shock at the chilling vehemence in Featha’s voice.

  “Do not address my mate without respect,” Veral hissed, his vibrissae rattling violently enough that the older female stilled, her eyes widening as her sole indication of her surprise. “I expected my mother-kin to greet my mate as continuer of my line when we arrived… not this insult.”

  Painted red lips peeled back from Featha’s sharp teeth, her vibrissae puffing around her dominantly. “You insult us by mating her. You should have returned home to be matched by your mother-kin when you felt ready to mate. I would have secured a profitable contract for you, instead of being disgraced by a female who brings nothing with her addition to our house.”

  “You say that, and yet rumor tells me that you have made every effort to set your youngest to inherit in my stead,” Veral replied sharply. “Even mating him prior to age of maturity. Do the members of the mother-line know this, or has all they heard been your talk of my mate and offspring… my female offspring, a daughter of the line.”

  A heavy silence fell, and Terri wasn’t sure who everyone was staring at more: her or the horror that broke through the cold indifference that Featha wore until that point. The female had half-stood at the announcement but slowly let herself fall into her throne as the family murmured around them.

  Featha’s throat worked and her claws, which had sprung from her fingertips, dug into the armrests. Her head dropped, and something like misery crossed the female’s face.

  “A half-breed is not worthy of our line,” she choked out. A shudder of what Terri assumed was disgust ran through her. “You are correct in your surmise. I had hoped that your shame would keep your taint away from the household, unmated and without claim to the head seat. When I heard from Kaylar that you mated an offworlder, I foresaw this probability. I hid nothing speaking my concerns—each is valid—but I have been hastening to mate Dreth in hopes that the household would uphold his pure progeny instead of a half-breed offspring of a deformed castoff,” she added, her gaze zeroing in on his damaged vibrissae.

  Veral nodded stiffly. “That comes to an end now. The seat is mine.” His eyes narrowed. “Remove yourself, mother-kin.”

  His aunt’s jaw tightened, but her face was otherwise inscrutable once more as she regally rose. Her voice trembled only slightly as she spoke, doubtlessly with restrained fury.

  “Monushava line initiate transference of lineage authority from Featha’monushava’katala to Veral’monushava’skahalur. Code 67369.”

  Eyes flashed brightly at the transference, and Featha stepped away with dignity from the throne to stand at its right. Terri wondered if that had any meaning, but she wasn’t given a chance to think much about it. Veral lightly took her arm and he strode up to it. He released her long enough to seat himself before drawing her into his lap. Terri flushed at the way everyone stared at his proprietorial action. Several of the females exchanged looks that made her even more uncomfortable. Even Navesha’s eyes widened, and somehow her demeanor seemed to stiffen even more.

  A sharp dragging sound at her right caught her attention, and she smiled in thanks to Dreth as he slid a heavy stone chair beside the throne. The male’s vibrissae puffed and flattened with mild discomfort as he dropped his head in a jerky nod and stepped back once more to his place.

  Veral scowled at the chair. He understood why Dreth brought it and was thankful that the male thought to provide it, but it rankled that he would have to release her from his protective embrace. Although Terri had the symbiont, her control of it was still imperfect. Even with it, she was smaller and more delicate than even the smallest adult among his mother-kin.

  He debated tightening his arms around her and refusing to let go, but his eyes slid over to his
family, and the shock and censure on their faces made him reconsider. Even Navesha was scrutinizing his action.

  He bristled. He knew that they were looking on his mate now as if she were weak… less than them. This would not help their efforts.

  With an irritated rattle-click of his mandibles, he reluctantly allowed Terri to slide out of his lap and take a seat at his side. A hiss from Dreth’s vibrissae signaled his watchful guard and Veral relaxed. Nothing was going to happen to his mate. Drawing in a deep breath, Veral settled back in the throne and narrowed his eyes on his mother-kin as he drummed his claws on the armrest. He glanced at his cousin, meeting the younger male’s hopeful gaze.

  “My first address as head of household is this,” he growled, “Dreth’monushava’kavath, approach.” The male strode over to stand before Veral. Head held high, the male regarded him with a mask of solemnity from where he stood. Veral resisted the urge to smile at the front the male so effectively put up. “Dreth’monushava’kavath, initiate Monushava line programming code 894, authorization Veral’monushava’skahalur.” The male’s eyes brightened, indicating the programming was now open. “At your request, and my agreement for the violations of the laws of majority, I place upon you the ganshar.” He ignored the gasps that filled the room and Featha’s shriek of denial as he continued to speak. “You will take no mate from this planet, and you will not sire any young on any Argurma female,” he pronounced. “Confirm.”

  There was more to the sentencing, but Veral stopped there. He would not influence his mother-kin’s programming to condemn the male to a life without a mate—even if he had to seek it with another species. Dreth paused. His cousin knew that there should have been more but did not argue. Instead, he inclined his head respectfully.

  “Confirmed,” Dreth rasped, his eyes brightening a fraction more before returning to their normal brilliance.

  He turned to return to his place, but his mother snapped a hand around his forearm, her vibrissae rattling angrily.

  “Why do you dishonor me this way?” she snarled.

  Dreth glared back at Featha, eyes lit with anger as he wrenched free from her hold.

  “Because I refuse to be your tool to control the Monushava line. It was the only way to be free of your attempts to mate me… and your plan to accomplish it. I do not wish a forced, unnatural mating and now I do not have to suffer one,” he snarled.

  “Idiot child!” she shrieked. “Now you will have nothing at all. No inheritance, no mate, and no young.”

  “I will have peace!” he bellowed back.

  His breath heaved in and out for a moment as he worked to compose himself before he turned away from his mother to bow his head to Veral once more.

  “I have concluded my necessary disruption,” he said coolly.

  Veral inclined his head and turned his head away to look down at his mate fondly as she gave him a wide grin and lifted her thumb in her human manner of encouragement. He resisted the urge to vibrate his mandibles as he used the moment to give Dreth the opportunity to walk away with his dignity intact as he returned to his position. Once he was certain that his cousin was no longer the center of attention, he glanced back out among his mother-kin. There was a watchfulness and uncertainty as they met his gaze from where they stood and were seated.

  “I understand that this is a new challenge—a new change for our line,” he said with a clear, even voice. “An interspecies offspring was unheard of among our kind until now, and for this reason we have come. Only among my mother-kin did I feel that there was a worthy sanctuary and medic for the arrival of our young.”

  That had their attention. A rolling rattle of vibrissae rose with the murmur of approval from among the males and females of the Monushava line.

  “This is not without danger. Our household must be prepared to deflect interest away from our complex at this time until we can secure her safety.”

  “You speak of going against the laws of the council, Veral,” another female said quietly.

  It had been many revolutions, but he knew the female before him by her voice and familiar, unchanged face. Like of all their race who lived for hundreds of years in youth before a rapid decline when the nanos wore out, she was as beautiful as he remembered and as strong as any of his cousins. Despite that, there was a peculiar gentleness to her that was odd for their species, but it had been that quality that made her the only one of his mother-kin who had assisted his mother when he had first returned and had been confused. Her mellow voice had soothed him then, and he was grateful now to see her amid the chaos of change occurring around him. He recognized his grandmother’s sister with a deep, respectful bow of his head.

  “Anahal, you are correct,” he acknowledged. “The law of the council does not serve us. It strips us of our identity and returns us to our mother lines broken, only to wait to see our own offspring stolen. If the council permitted me to keep Terri, they would implement the same procedures that would remove everything unique from my mate. That is if they did not carry out their current plans to dissect her in an attempt to learn ways to remove what bonds we have kept—our mating bonds. My offspring would be destroyed in their experiments,” he added, directing these words to Featha, whose eyes widened as a look of fleeting horror passed over her face.

  Good. Her horror would protect his young. Featha was conniving, but she was not a monster. Kaylar was correct on that matter. Despite her distaste for the situation, she would protect an innocent daughter of the line. He could see that in the sudden rigid set of her shoulders as she took on the weight of responsibility. There was still a significant probability that she would adjust. He would work toward those odds.

  “We allow the council to restrict who we mate with. We do not know what opportunities we have missed. There may be many species who would further strengthen and grow our line,” he added.

  The males and females among his kin again exchanged looks, communicating among their private lines.

  “I will stand by you, mother-kin,” Navesha said loudly as she pushed her way up to his side. Her lip curled back in a sneer as she looked over the rest of their people. “Does anyone else stand with us against the cruelty and crippling laws of the council?”

  Navesha’s support, as a female of the line possessing great standing, proved crucial. Although it was unreasonable to suspect that it was unanimous, his mother-kin promised to guard their secret. The corners of Veral’s lips tipped up as he watched his mother-kin edge toward his mate with mixed expressions of curiosity and incredulity. When the medic finally pushed his way through to squint with interest down at Terri, a tension within Veral’s systems eased. His mate and offspring would be safe… for now.

  8

  Terri’s eyes widened when a large male—slightly shorter than Veral but broad with muscle—approached, his flared vibrissae making him appear even larger. His entire body screamed barely leashed violence, and Terri tensed warily in reaction. In contrast to Veral’s dark silver, he was a starless black hue that seemed to almost suck away any light near him, his glowing eyes like flames set in his face. She was certain that he was going to attack and prepared herself, her symbiont flaring hot as it prepared to unleash itself if required.

  Veral stood, seemingly unconcerned about the giant striding toward him. She wished she could share that confidence. She wasn’t able to keep herself from jumping when the male’s arm swung out only to grip Veral’s shoulder spine in a friendly gesture, a deep chuff leaving him. His eyes rolled toward her only for a moment before returning to her mate.

  “Veral’skahalur,” he drawled in a deep voice. “The chatter through the communication lines is correct—you survived and returned to us. I expected you to be dead or barely clinging to life if you returned. You look much the same, but I see that revolutions in space have hardened you. It did you some good, then.”

  Her mate grunted and clasped the other male in turn, his eyes narrowing and rising at the corners with an ease that came from evident familiarity.
r />   “Larth’evanshal. I did not expect to see you alive if I returned. I assumed that you would be ranked to an elite warrior and perish on some battlefield for the council. And you are larger.”

  The male in question chuffed again, not denying it.

  “You are accurate, in part,” he agreed. “I signed up for one rotation, earned my warrior marks and these upgrades you note, and afterward declined further rotations. I returned to our territory to protect the house and the line. And yet, of the two of us, you are the one who returned with a mate. I never would have expected an honor-bound male, one who would rather flee into exile than draw unfavorable attention to his line, to break council law and mate outside of our species.”

  “We are both surprised then,” Veral replied, amusement in his expression. “I did not receive communication that you had become head of the Ahanvala Guard. I would not have expected you to obtain any position that requires cool calculation. You were always too eager to fight than to use your processor sensibly,” he chuffed. “You would have been among the first I would expect to flaunt the council and mate where you like.”

  “You provide a compelling incentive to do so,” Larth said, his eyes fastening this time on Terri with interest.

  She held an amused snort. He was judging that by what, exactly? Her winning personality as she stood there and literally said nothing? The way she rounded out like an inflatable rescue device?

  Although it wasn’t possible for her to share a private communication line with Veral without having implants put in, she was certain that he knew exactly what she was thinking because he chuffed and slanted her a knowing look.

  “My mate is very compelling in many ways,” he agreed with a low, lustful rumble.