Page 21 of Star Crossed Delta

SABA

S aba descended the staircase of the lodge, the cool marble smooth beneath her bare feet, the hem of her flowing, long dress trailing behind her.

The scent of a delicious roast, spices, and aged whiskey wafted from the dining room, mingling with deep, raucous laughter.

She paused at the foot of the stairs, tilting her head as another burst of sound rumbled through the corridors.

The clinking of glasses and cutlery accompanied the chuckles and raised voices.

She was filled with an instant longing for company, and without a second thought, she stepped forward, pressing her palm to the heavy door and pushing it open.

The mirth faded.

All eyes turned to her.

Mak reclined at the head of the table, a glass resting in his hand.

Across from him, sat Kaal and Xander.

Their gazes shifted between her and her husband as did Zev, Boaz, and Santi, who all froze mid-motion, their expressions unreadable.

Asa and Koda, who stood guard, kept cool masks on their faces.

Saba arched a brow. ‘No one thought to invite me to the party?’ she teased, keeping her voice light.

Mak’s jaw clenched, his lips pressing together. ‘I forgot to tell you that one Friday evening every month is spent with my brothers and close friends. It’s a ritual.’

She let his words settle before giving him a quizzical expression. ‘One open to women?’

Mak hesitated.

That told her everything.

She tilted her chin up. ‘If you have to think about it, ?ar , then I will excuse myself.’

His jaw locked. His dark gaze intensified in a battle of wills.

‘Saba, sit.’

They stared at each other across the table, neither backing down. His companions sat frozen, eyes wary, knowing better than to interfere.

She inclined her head. She would not cause a scene; it was not her style.

Kaal, who was already standing, pulled a chair beside him.

‘Plate?’ he offered, his expression unreadable.

Saba met his eyes for a beat before nodding, sitting with measured grace.

Kaal reached for the serving dishes, and without hesitation, he plated her meal himself.

He checked in on her preferences with quick raises of his brow and a quirk on his lips.

She liked Kaal, Mak’s tall and broad brother, who was a giant in his own right.

Mak clocked the entire exchange, sucking on a cheroot, his face an enigma, a quiet storm behind his dark eyes.

The room still thrummed with strain.

Xander, ever the commanding diplomat, broke the silence. ‘It’s good to see you, ?arim . You look magnificent.’

Saba turned to him, holding his gaze. ‘ Sante . After years of Suri and Shiloh claiming the beauty title, I’m glad the truth is finally catching on.’

For a split second, there was silence, then the room erupted into chuckles.

The men relaxed, the tension fracturing under Saba’s unexpected dig at her demise.

Banter resumed, whiskey poured, and the easy camaraderie of their close friendship and brotherhood folded around her.

Mak, however, remained silent, abandoning his plate and drink, eyes on her.

When she met his stare, that gleam, inscrutable yet possessive, reminded her of one thing.

She had entered his world, but he had still to decide how he felt about it.

MAK

Mak was born to lead an enigmatic order.

The secrets of his people now flowed through his veins, etched into his skin like a living map of their path to light and glory.

He was groomed from birth to command their people, protect their way of life in the face of inevitable change, and ensure their prosperity.

It was a heavy burden, but he accepted it in honor of his ancestors and for the sake of his descendants’ future.

His duties ranged from leading Signet’s legal affairs and contracts to overseeing and managing his family’s trust, as well as juggling the responsibilities of the Sauvage Corporation.

While fulfilling and, at times, rewarding, it was a lonely road to walk.

Because so far, it had come at the expense of his happiness, of the joy he craved with a woman who cherished him unconditionally.

Why did devotion keep evading him?

Didn’t he deserve it just as well as any of his hermanos ?

He wanted it, needed it, and yearned for it. So much so that after Suri had jilted him, he had chased after it.

Yet he still had nothing to show for it.

Instead, he had her.

The bride he never sought or asked for.

Now, at dinner, he observed his pack and kin fall in love with her.

It wasn’t intentional, but it was happening right before him.

Xander, Kaal, Santi, Rigo, Zev, Asa, Kelam, and even Koda, his brothers, his closest friends, and warriors who had killed and bled beside him, all adored her.

They filled her glass with wine, plied her with dessert, and showered her with compliments that made her smirk but never blush.

He let them.

He leaned back in his chair, his whiskey untouched, studying how she charmed them.

Not deceitfully. Nada , she was just herself.

Confident, quick-witted, taking up space like she had been at this table her entire life. Like she belonged here.

The idea unsettled him.

When she rose, bidding them goodnight, she did so with an unhurried, sensual sashay that commanded attention.

He found himself locking eyes on her backside, his fingers tightening around his tumbler as she disappeared from the dining hall.

The moment she was gone, Rigo let out a whistle.

‘Mak,’ he drawled, a wicked grin across his face. ‘You’re staring.’

Santi snorted. ‘More like memorizing.’

Kaal chuckled. ‘You’ve got it bad, brother.’

Mak scoffed, tilting his glass, though he still hadn’t taken a sip. ‘ Fokk off, don’t be ridiculous. I scarcely know the woman.’

Xander leaned forward, his sharp eyes glinting with amusement. ‘So you’re declaring you’re not intrigued?’

Mak exhaled through his nose. ‘I’m saying it doesn’t matter. Because how she came into my life makes me want to raze a bombast of sullied sachem monsters and flay them to the bone.’

That sobered them.

For a moment, silence settled around them.

Then Santi grinned. ‘Are we going hunting? The mission awaits.’

Kaal cracked his neck. ‘If Miral’s intel is correct, which it is most times, we’ll make a killing tonight.’

As one, they rose from the table and headed outside.

The two racing flyers sat waiting, sleek and armed with enough firepower to level a street block.

They climbed in, and with a roar of thrusters, they took off towards Sombra’s rear deck through the heart of the gigantic dreadnought.

Mak stalked across the glossy expanse of the Sombra’s massive aft hold, the heat coming off the revving engines bleeding through the metal grids beneath his boots.

The Signet corvettes waited in the launch bays, gleaming against the void.

Beside him, Kaal, Boaz, and Zev scanned the perimeter, taut with the same unease that churned in his chest.

Miral’s scans of the system showed a sachem lair festering in the wastelands known as the Shattering, a no-man’s land of torn metals and ancient wreckage.

The ambush, however, came sooner than expected, at their doorstep.

Just as the pack boarded the rear airlocks of their crafts, a figure burst from the smoke beyond the cargo haulers, massive and monstrous, the ground shaking underneath his boots.

He wore a battle-worn, long coat that flared in the spewing steam vents on the deck floor.

Twin shotguns roared in his fists, muzzle flares splitting the haze, rounds slamming into the surface where Mak had stood a heartbeat before.

Mak dove sideways, rolled, and rose, already shifting, light shredding through him as his lycan venator form exploded outward.

Violet and obsidian fur gleamed beneath the searing sun, fangs bared, claws sparking over the steel decking.

As he did, Mak’s attacker snarled, then his body contorted as bones cracked and reshaped.

His extremities warped into grotesque proportions and twisted into a sachem .

The hulking beast dripped with spectral ichor, its fanged mandibles where a muzzle should have been, and limbs too long for any natural creature.

Mak lunged. They collided with bone-shattering force, wolf against daemon, phantom fire crackling between them.

An alarm blared through the chaos, summoning all defenders to rally to the pack’s aid.

Kaal and Boaz shifted, flanking left, Zev and Rigo right.

They fought as a pack, shifting, striking, retreating, and assaulting again. The sachem struck back with vicious intent at one point, sending Zev skidding across the deck.

Kaal and Mak circled, driving in from opposite sides.

The Sauvage guards, armored in gunmetal gray, unleashed pulse rifles from the dock cover, firing plasma rounds and ion darts that tore through the sachem’s hide, which only just slowed.

Still, the entity laughed, a sound like tearing steel.

Kaal’s claws raked over the monster ’s flank, buying Mak a breath to recover.

It took Mak’s fangs locking on the creature’s throat and Kaal’s talons ramming into its spine, with Boaz thrusting an electro-spear into its chest, to drop the monster to its knees.

Blood and spectral smoke hissed from its wounds as it laughed, gurgling and broken. Its eyes, burning red, fixed on Mak.

‘Who sent you?’ Mak growled, panting, fur matted with gore and grime. ‘Why?’

The sachem coughed out a ragged breath.

‘You’re the mark, Sauvage. You stand in the way of many great men,’ it rasped. ‘They need you gone, to make way for a new order.’

Then it smiled, a terrible, miasma-soaked grin, and collapsed into ash and violet motes, dissolving into the wind.

Mak stood in the silence, chest heaving, jaw clenched, the creature’s warning lingering long after the body had vanished.