┉┈◈𐍈𐍀𐌴◈┈┉
𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚜 𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍...
A weight hit Charlie’s stomach and she jerked wide-eyed-awake with a grunt.
“Wake up, sleepyhead!”
Her weighted eyes met the pink ones of her most human-looking child, Thea, who was giggling on top of her, unaware—or innocently uncaring—that she was squishing her mother’s organs.
Despite the rough awakening, a fond smile touched Charlie’s lips as she carefully maneuvered Thea’s small form up and to her side. Where Tük’hala should have been.
“Remember what mommy said about being gentle,” she chided in a soft rasp. She sat up and pressed a kiss to her head. “Good morning, sweetheart. Where’s daddy?”
Thea grabbed one of the tasseled pillows and hugged it tightly. “He took everyone to see Auntie Stacy. I didn’t wanna go ’cause I was playing with my magic rocks, so grammy stayed to watch me while you were sleeping.”
“Auntie Stacy’s visiting?” Charlie frowned. “Why didn’t he wake me?”
The antsy four-year-old twirled a tassel around her claw. “Daddy told me not to wake you ’cause you played too much with the whacking dummy sticks yesterday.”
Whacking dummy sticks? Cute.
She raised a brow in that parental way she’d taken on since becoming a mother. “And you woke me up anyway?”
The small child pouted and buried half her face in the pillow like she could bury her crimes. “Grammy fell asleep and I got bored!”
Charlie took her new glasses from beside the bed—smaller and frameless with dainty attachments to keep them secure at her ears. “Ooh, I see. I didn’t know it was that serious. Well, I’m sure you can be cured with a bit of playtime with your cousins, don’t you think?”
Thea shoved the pillow away from her like she was offended by the idea. “But they never wanna do what I wanna do!”
“Thea, no shouting.”
“But they never wanna do what I wanna do,” she whispered in an adorable little huff.
Charlie chuckled and playfully mussed up her baby girl’s long black hair. “Tell you what: if you play with your cousins and are a good sport about it, then you can play for a bit afterward with me and we’ll do whatever you want to do. How does that sound?”
She perked up at that. “Will Laura and Tabi play, too?”
“If they want to.”
She crossed her arms. “Why do they get to choose and I don’t?”
“You see your sisters every day. You see your cousins once a month. Now come on. Let’s get ready without any more whining, okay?” Her tone was gentle but firm in a way that brooked no argument.
“Okay,” Thea grumbled finally, getting off the bed. Though the way she skipped out the door right after betrayed her excitement.
Charlie shook her head with a sigh of exasperated love. The gremlin was pushing to test how far she could get. But she didn’t push too hard with her mom. Tük’hala, however, gave in much easier. Their children had him wrapped around their little claws and they knew it.
When it was her turn to get out of bed, her body screamed from the torture of leaving the warmth and comfort to stand up. She winced. Maybe I did overdo it with training yesterday.
Too lost in her old anger to realize she was pushing it that far.
It had festered over the years. The bitterness. She remembered what happened to that younger version of herself. Mid-twenties and bright-eyed—a young woman who valued herself less than everyone else. The girl who could so easily sacrifice for others because she wasn’t as important. She could take the pain. The trauma. If she couldn’t do this for others, then what was she good for?
She’d mistaken it for strength when it was all over, soothed by the words of her lover, but she’d really been a weak girl just surviving. The selfishness of others had cornered her into making decisions that only played into their hands. Even her relationship with Tük’hala…
Charlie stopped the thought before it could go further into a spiral, shaking her head as she slipped on her flowy teal dress. She loved him. She did. With all her heart. That was real, no matter how it started.
But there was always this kernel of doubt. Would she still have fallen in love with him if he hadn’t manipulated her attraction with his mating scent in the beginning? If he hadn’t bitten her? Hadn’t initiated Litvekda on her? Some days, when she was burning in blissful ecstasy in his arms, she said yes. Other days… she knew there was no way to truly know for sure. He’d made a muddled mess of it, and she felt that was intentional. To ensure she’d never leave.
Charlie packed an emergency snack bag in the kitchen before passing through the living room where Thea was bouncing impatiently in her ruffled pink dress. But she paused when she saw Dendri fast asleep on a circular cushion, snoring with her mouth agape towards the ceiling.
Maybe it would be a good idea to leave a note.
She found a scrap of paper and, to the best of her ability, wrote in Daki that she and Thea were meeting up with Tük’hala and the others. After scribbling her thanks at the end, because she couldn’t have gotten half as much sleep as she did these days without her help, she placed the note on top of the Daki’s hand.
“Come on,” Charlie whispered to her daughter at the door, watching as the girl pranced up with a skip and a twirl. She took her hand.
Once they stepped out, the noise of the expanded city wrapped around them. It was always extra hectic when Stacy came to visit. She usually brought a healthy group of her children with her and some Etja to wrangle them in when they got out of hand. Having Etja just casually in the city was jarring for the citizens at first, but they got used to it after Stacy proved she could control them.
Daki technology had become even more advanced that now, after years, the city was unlike anything she’d seen back at home. Buildings could adjust their height with alien tech sending signals across their surface, and sleek airtrains weaved between them to follow their usual course far overhead. Most every door was automatic, and seamless when closed.
Though Daki had the knowledge and ability to have hover vehicles on the streets, too many were paranoid about accidents that would harm the women and children. Instead, a few citizens took up the new occupation of being cart runners—pulling along passengers in bulky two-wheeled wagons. It wouldn’t have fit into such an advanced society, except these carts had a few advancements of their own, like air conditioning, glowing lights, and somehow a retractable snack bar with refrigeration in the walls.
A little over-the-top. But the Daki were a proud race, prone to show off.
As Charlie and her daughter came into view, one of these gangly runners skidded to a halt in front of them, the wheels of his cart squealing in protest.
“G’mornin’, mate of Tük’hala,” the male greeted with a low, respectful dip of his head. Tük had made it a well-known rule that she be addressed in that way by males outside of the family.
She nodded back with a brittle smile.
The cheery Daki continued, “Kek, at your service. Heading to the gatherin’?” He gestured towards the city center where Stacy and her children usually stopped.
Charlie hoisted Thea up into the cart before climbing in after. “Yes, if my children are still there.”
“They are,” he confirmed, adjusting the bars in his calloused grip. “All but one. I saw Jasper and Jen’s Henry scampering off with the Sekfüd.”
The Traitor. Though in Daki, it was a much harsher word.
The familiar disdain in his voice suppressed her own, and she remained silent as they sped off.
The city center, usually bustling with Daki, always seemed to clear out when Stacy’s brood came stampeding through. She brought twenty at a time (out of her sixty), along with seven Etja males to make the job easier for her.
Charlie expected to see chaos when they pulled up to the scene. But what she saw instead made her brows raise with amused surprise.
There was her warrior mate seated at the fountain, Tabi swinging from his outstretched arm while Laura and Rikan were perched on his knee. He had Stacy’s entire horde sitting enthralled in front of him on the crystal-lit street, hanging on to every dramatic word as he told the famous story of how he escaped the pit.
“—And there I was, back broken, blood gushing from where my hand used to be…” Tük’hala lifted his metal hand, raising the arm Tabi was gleefully hanging from. “I couldn’t move my legs. And the ugly grey beast that ssswallowed my hand was about to bite off my head!”
The grey, vampiric children of said beasts gasped. The Etja fathers amongst them awkwardly looked between each other.
“But I am a great Daki warrior!” he declared with a cocky, fanged grin, bright amber eyes flitting from face to little face. His robotic hand clenched into a mighty fist. “I plunged my one hand into itsss ugly face as it lunged at me… and I tore out half of its brains!”
Charlie grimaced and shook her head with a sigh as she got out of the wagon with Thea. She paid Kek and made her way over to the group.
“I vanquished it, but there were others.” His gravelly voice went low, intense. “I used my forearm and my one hand to propel my body at them with sssuch speed they couldn’t react. I ripped out the spine of the first I reached, then used that spine to ssstrangle the second!”
Tük’hala finally noticed Charlie as she stopped beside him and he threw her a roguish smirk. She blinked at him and covered Thea’s ears.
“There was blood everywhere,” he continued, settling Tabi onto his other knee to give his arm a break. The Daki girl curled her tail around his lower leg. “I had to gut a few more of them as I climbed through the caves towards home. The blood and guts were all over me. I killed them so viciously. The caves were sssplattered with gore.”
“And then you made it home safe and sound. The end!” Charlie butted in with a smile towards the children.
The little gremlins cheered at the happy ending. Then they started roughhousing with each other to reenact the story, and the Etja males had to interfere—visibly disappointed that their break was already over.
Stacy was grinning with amusement, looking healthy and happy. Her pale body looked ethereal in her gifted white dress, even with the jagged, Etja-like angles and dark veins. It’d been a long while since she was last pregnant. Turned out even a horde of Etja had their limits on how many small children they could handle at once.
Charlie gave her mate a disapproving look as he set their kids down and stood to tower over her. “Why do you have to keep telling the story like that? It’s too violent for the young children to hear.”
The Daki warrior chuckled and dipped his head to speak softly against her ear. “It is my great plan to prevent the little demons from attacking when they’re older. They will know better than to attack now.”
“Don’t call our nephews demons, Tük,” she chided in exasperation, though a laugh wanted to bubble up out of her.
He straightened once more with a deep grumble from his chest. “They’re not our nephews.”
“Yes, they are.”
“No, they are no—”
“Stacy!” Charlie chirped with a big, cheerful smile as her friend came up to them. “How are you doing? It’s good to see you. And the little ones too, of course.”
Stacy laughed as they hugged each other, no bellies in the way this time. “I’ve been doing pretty good. I’ve gotta say, though, I’m so happy to be out of that smelly old cave.”
“You prefer our smelly old cave?” Charlie joked, pulling back.
Stacy huffed a laugh, then let out a weary breath. “Even after four years, I can’t get my men to figure out how to properly clean our home. There’s always something smelling. It’s worse when I can’t find the source.”
The noise of the playing children got louder as her own half-Daki kids joined in. Tük’hala immediately bustled over to watch closely with his usual paranoia, ready to pull them out.
Charlie looked over. “Is your Henry here? Jen’s Henry was so excited to see him.”
The Etja Queen followed her gaze. Then she pointed into the scrambling sea of children. “Yes. There, see? Pulling Gordem’s ear?”
“Mm… I don’t see… Oh, yep!” Charlie laughed, watching Gordem get bullied by his own kid. “There’s the sweetheart.”
“Jen’s Henry was here not too long ago. They got to play a little.” Stacy turned back to her. “When Dekar came by, Henry and Jasper wanted to follow along with him.” There was that concern in her mismatched eyes. Charlie felt it, too.
“Not your henry,” she clarified.
“Not mine.”
“Jen’s.”
Stacy nodded. “Yep!”
That’s fine. This is fine. Charlie tried not to worry too much. Dekar’s tasks for today weren’t near the more heavily populated areas, so the likelihood of another incident wasn’t too high. Surely no one would attack him while he had his son Jasper and nephew Henry with him. They wouldn’t be that callous.
But she had a bad feeling. And it wouldn’t go away. Her trust in this society fluctuated over time, but now it was more brittle than it had ever been.
A recent memory flashed through her mind of the last conversation she had with King Vetidaka. Her expression soured and a heavy darkness weighed down on her fragile heart.
No, not brittle. Her trust was completely shattered.
“Mom!”
Charlie’s head whipped around towards the shrieked cry. Jasper.
She saw him running towards her, followed by an equally stressed Henry. Her son’s brown eyes were filled with tears.
Her maternal instincts were going haywire and she ran the rest of the way to meet him. He crashed against her and clung to her legs, sobbing against them.
“D… d-daddy’s hurt,” he blubbered into her dress. Then he looked up at her with a face that broke her heart. “My daddy is hurt real… really bad.”
Charlie knelt down and hugged the boy, rubbing his back soothingly. Tears pricked her own eyes, but fury was behind them. “Where is he?”
“Past the berry farm, almost to the warehouse,” Henry answered as his coral eyes met hers, pointing behind him frantically.
She stood as Tük’hala took over with consoling their son. The other children had stopped playing, drawn to the commotion.
“Stay here with our children,” she said to her mate, looking in the direction Henry pointed. “I’ll take care of this.”
Before the Daki warrior could protest, she was already sprinting away.
It was always more with this Daki society. More and more and more. Piling up, careless and selfish and without regard for the children affected. Her blood was boiling. It wasn’t just this. It was everything.
Enough.
Enough.
She found another cart runner and hastily hopped aboard. After shouting directions, they were closing the distance fast. It didn’t take long for her to see the crumpled body in the middle of the road ahead.
Charlie leapt off as soon as they came to a halt. And then she was at his side.
His baggy pants were torn. He was shirtless and bloody and bruised. She rolled him onto his back, trying to get him to respond.
“Dekar,” she said in a breathless plea. Other Daki simply walked around them. “Dekar, wake up. Your children need you. Tell me where you’re hurt worst.”
His breathing was pained, and shallow enough to be mildly concerning. But his eyes cracked open, locking onto her like she was the brightest star in the night sky. A wry smile tugged at his weary, scarred mouth.
“Hello… beautiful mate of Tük’hala,” he greeted sardonically, his voice a weak rasp.
Something twisted inside her hearing those forced words come from him. She ignored the feeling.
“To hell with that greeting,” she muttered bitterly, already finding where he was bleeding the most and tearing off strips of her dress to stop the flow. It made her sick to see so much deep blue. Everywhere. “They did this in front of them? In front of the children?”
A hiss escaped him as she pressed hard. He grunted, his eyes closing again. “Yes… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… shouldn’t have taken them with me. They…” He took a shuddering breath, opening his eyes only for a traitorous tear to escape. “They wanted to see how I carve the crystals.”
“Sshh,” she hushed him softly, finishing up her work. She did as best she could, but he needed a doctor. She’d have to get Michael. “It’s not your fault. I’m not angry with you. I’m angry with them. This place.” She paused, her hands trembling over his wounds. “Everything, lately.”
She felt his concerned gaze on her and she couldn’t bear to meet it. She stood with a sniffle, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand. “I’ll send Michael to you. And then… I’ll have a talk with the king.”
He would do something about this, or there would be hell to pay…
.
.
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