Page 32 of Whispers of the Void (Voidborn Chronicles #1)

CHAPTER 32

RAIZ

* * *

A s Altis slows the transport, I look out into the docking bay, taking in which Lord’s ships are here already. Most of them used their private vessels. I’m the only one who is an active member of the military at the moment. I’m also the youngest by a good twenty-five rotations.

Both factors lead to me being a deeply unpopular Lord among my peers. My hatred for all our rites and rituals doesn’t help either. I’ve never been accepting of the status quo, a trait that’s served me well in my military career at the very least.

“Are you okay?” Neev asks me, slipping her hand in mine and squeezing.

“I’m fine.” I keep her hand in mine. “You have to stay close, preferably to me but, if not, Hyva or Altis.”

“What about Vynia?”

“Altis is her chaperone.”

Neev’s gaze swings toward Vynia, who just rolls her eyes. “I know. Archaic rules.”

“Do not speak to another male unless one of the three of us is with you. In fact, try to avoid eye contact with anyone to begin with.”

The doors slide open, and the ramp extends.

“Do you understand?” I know I’m being over the top, but it is really important that she not bring attention to herself.

“Yes.” She drops my hand. “I’ll stay glued to your sides and only interact when you introduce me to someone.”

My muscles relax slightly. Altis and Vynia are the first to exit the transport. Followed by Neev who is sandwiched between Hyva and myself. We come upon the first checkpoint and wait for the guard to check his tablet for our name. Once we’re given clearance, we flow into the line leading to the pit.

Hushed voices carry down the red-lit corridor. I can smell all the emotions swirling in the air. Fear, excitement, but most of all bloodlust. Zeahirian’s love watching a good, vicious fight to the death, and that’s what is on the menu today.

The stench of blood, sweat, and piss assault my nose as we enter into the arena known as the pit. A large sand floor sits in the center of the room with rows of seating on all sides. Each successive row rises, so no one has an obstructed view of the horror we’re about to witness.

“Lord Aste,” a deep voice from the row behind me calls.

Fuck.

I turn to see Lord Salx standing alongside his daughter. This is the worst-case scenario. Had I known they would be seated behind us, I would have given Neev a heads up.

“Lord Salx.” I incline my head. “Lady Salx.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, it’s all but official that you’ll be wed by this time next rotation. Call her Bex.”

“ It’s not what it sounds like,” I implore into Neev’s mind.

She doesn’t respond, just stands still as a statue staring forward while I glance at her out of the corner of my eye.

“ You didn’t tell her?” Hyva questions. “ I can’t believe you.”

“I was never planning on marrying Bex Salx. It didn’t even occur to me to mention it.”

Hyva slips his hand around Neev’s back and leans down to whisper in her ear. Before I know it, he’s traded places with her. She’s now between him and Vynia. Entirely too far away for my liking.

“I can’t wait for my visit to your estate on the coast. When is your next leave?” Bex asks. She does a double take when Neev drops her hood and pulls all her beautiful dark hair free. “Oh my, who is this?”

“The newest member of my crew. She’s a linguist and gifted translator.”

Waves of icy anger ripple off Neev. The corners of her eyes have tightened, and her lips press to a straight line. Her fury does nothing to dull her beauty, in fact, she’s more beautiful than ever while she stands there frozen in a jealous rage.

“Oh.” Bex deflates a little. “I thought perhaps she was an engagement gift for me. I love collecting exotic servants.”

Hyva hides a laugh by pretending to cough.

“There are no servants in House Aste,” I say sternly.

She has the good sense to pale at the anger in my voice. Luckily, before any of us have to endure any more of her idiocy, the Sovereign’s spokesman walks out into the pit and the arena falls silent.

He introduces the twins who will be dueling. As he reminds them of the rules, I hear the wail of who I assume to be their mother. This happens more often than not. The two males look even younger than the last who fought.

Both of them have red-rimmed eyes as they step out into the center of the pit. The lights around us dim, highlighting the fight that’s about to occur. The circle each other, each one scanning the other for weaknesses.

The crowd tenses, hungry for the violence that fuels our society. Males in the front row grow tired of the boys not throwing punches, so they begin to beat their chests in time. Chanting a fight song passed down through millennia and calling for violence.

My stomach churns. They did the same thing when I fought my brother. I had him pinned but didn’t want to finish him. It took him saying the world would never become better than this if he had his way. That he’d fight to keep the barbaric rite exactly how it is. I used to think he was being honest, but sometimes I wonder if maybe he just didn’t want to win. That he knew I couldn’t kill him unless he pushed me.

So he did.

Because if it wasn’t one of us who would be killed, it would be both of us.

Shocked whispers erupt in the stands as both boys drop to their knees facing each other. Terror bleeds from their eyes as their still undeveloped chests heave. They won’t hurt each other, so they’ll die together.

The Sovereign’s slayer walks out into the pit, his scythe resting over his shoulder. The mother’s wailing echoes off the walls as he lifts his weapon and beheads the boy closest to him in one powerful swipe. He walks to the next and does the same thing.

I glance at Altis and Hyva, who nod in agreement. In seconds violence will erupt all around us. The bloodlust of those who gathered to watch the Bak’hura has not been sated. All that swirling violence and brutality has no outlet. It’s why we come armed, on the off chance that the twins will refuse to fight and instead choose death.

The wailing mother runs into the pit and drops into the blood-soaked sand. She grabs both heads of her children and falls into a weeping heap. The father is nowhere to be seen; he likely ran off in shame as soon as the first child was slain.

Neev watches it all unfold in stunned, frozen, silence. A fight breaks out on the other side of the arena, and Hyva immediately bends and throws the nearly comatose Neev over his shoulder. Altis rushes down the aisle, making a path for Vynia on her crutches.

I block a punch meant for Hyva as someone else reaches for Neev. Vynia pulls out a knife and throws it at the male reaching for Neev. It hits its intended target right in the eye. This is why she has the position in my trusted circle.

“Don’t you dare set her down, ” I tell Hyva. We’re out of the arena but won’t be safe until we’re out on our transport on the way back to the ship.

“I’ve got her,” he reassures me even as she struggles to be set down.

“Let him get you to safety,” I tell her.

“Get the fuck out of my head,” she snarls at me, lifting her body enough to glare at me.

“ You’re so fucked,” Hyva chuckles in my mind.

I don’t reply to him. Once we’re on board and speeding off through space, I’ll explain everything.

The four of us run as fast as we can, which with Vynia on crutches isn’t as fast as we could be.

Altis runs to release the ramp, and as soon as it’s down, Vynia rushes up to take the captain's seat. She can fly us out of here quicker than her brother. Hyva follows, then Altis and I. Hyva sets Neev down, and she takes a seat quietly shrinking into the far corner. He gives her a long, examining look before pulling out Vynia’s prosthetic leg and sitting down next to her to attach it while she fires up the engine.

I crouch down in front of Neev, my hand resting on her exposed thigh. She stares over my shoulder, refusing to meet my eyes, but she does pull her leg away from my touch. I can’t tell if she’s in shock from witnessing the execution of the two young males or if she’s just so angry at me.

It’s probably both.

“I need you to look at me, so I can make sure you’re okay,” I plead quietly. “Please.”

She blinks a few times and then slowly turns her gaze to mine. What I see there is nothing. Her eyes are dead. She’s pulled her emotions so far inside herself I’m not sure they’ll ever resurface, at least not in my vicinity. I’d take hatred and anger over this nothingness.

“I’m not, and was never, planning on entering any kind of arrangement with any female on Zeahiri.”

“Lady Salx seemed to be under a different impression.”

“She’s delusional, and her father was referencing an arrangement he made with my father before I was even born. As my father is dead, and I hold the title of Lord Aste, I make my own choices.”

She looks away from me, and it cuts my chest open. If I didn’t know it before, I certainly would now. Neev Kaesong is my mate. My love. My future.

“Please don’t shut me out,” I cup her face and turn her head until our eyes lock. The lone tear that rolls down her cheek guts me. “I’m sorry for not warning you.”

“Okay.” She looks away from me, still withdrawn.

“We’re not done talking about what you just witnessed. Are you alright?”

Her eyes flash as she looks at me. At least there’s still life in them. “Are you serious? Am I alright? With watching two brothers be executed in front of their mother? Being nearly swallowed into a mob of violent, bloodthirsty brutes? No. No, I’m not alright.”

“This is what we’re trying to change.”

“How? Now that the books have been burned? Where can we go? How can we change the traditions of brutality that are so ingrained in your society?”

“I’m not sure yet but?—”

“Commander?” Mydax’s voice crackles through the speakers. “We have a problem.”

Fuck.

“What kind of problem?” I immediately stand and walk behind Vynia’s chair, so I’m closer to the controls.

“The Order is here, and they want Neev.”