of people. Tavar was the youngest—and last—son of the male who led the original rebellion against Jaxor’s own sire, Kirax’an. And yet, they adhered to the old customs of the Luxirians, to the old language, passed down among very few.
Jaxor had to tread carefully. Tavar was intelligent, not easily fooled, though the older brother he’d taken power from had been.
“Cruxan, one of Vaxa’an’s Ambassadors, has them. He ambushed me in the forest before our meeting.” Tavar’s gaze flickered down his bare chest, at the kekevir wounds adorning his flesh. They could pass for blade marks and Jaxor wouldn’t correct his assumptions. “I am tracking them south.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I needed to refuel,” he said.
“They could already be back to the Golden City by now,” Kilan commented, frustration coloring the male’s tone. His hair was plaited, wixa beads threaded throughout. Jaxor’s stomach jolted when he realized his own hair was now shorn. Surely that would seem suspicious to Tavar, who had only seen him a handful of spans ago. His eyes cut through Jaxor, narrowing. “You failed. You failed Laccara. Now the possibility of our child is lost.”
Jaxor’s eyes went to Laccara, standing next to her mate. Her hands were clasped in front of her, looking every bit the docile Luxirian female, but Jaxor was not fooled. He’d learned long ago that most Mevirax females were just as cunning and vicious as their males, if not more so.
“I have not failed,” Jaxor told them. “Our plan is only delayed. Cruxan is on foot with the females. His hovercraft was damaged. He will try for one of the outposts before risking the Black Desert back to the Golden City.”
Jaxor could feel Tavar’s unflinching gaze. When the Jetutians had first approached the Mevirax, it had been to Tavar’s older brother. The previous leader. His brother had almost run through the Jetutian messenger with his blade. Jetutians and Luxirians had a long, ugly history. The most recent attack on their females was still fresh in the Luxirians’ minds—and always would be.
But Tavar saw opportunity where his older brother had seen only hate. Tavar had pushed his brother out as leader within the rotation, sowing doubt and rumors among the Mevirax. After Tavar had taken control, his brother was never seen again.
Jaxor held no doubt in his mind that Tavar had killed him. His own brother. That was why Jaxor would never trust him. To his people, he seemed a just, fair leader who was restoring hope and life. Jaxor believed that Tavar wanted the females cured of the virus that had left them unable to conceive—but Jaxor knew it was power that the Mevirax leader craved most of all, and that he would give anything for it.
And what was more powerful than Mevirax females giving life, once more, while the females in the Golden City and the outposts could not? It would shake the very core of their society. There would be uprisings, more rebellions, probably bloody. The Mevirax would grow more powerful, drawing in new factions from all over Luxiria, with the promise of restored health, a restored future. Already, there had been whisperings through the outposts.
Tavar wanted to be Prime Leader of Luxiria. Tavar wanted Vaxa’an dead and the Golden City under his rule. He believed he could get it, if he played the Jetutians just right. If he could steal away the vaccine that would heal Luxirian females and use it as a bargaining chip for the throne.
That was why Jaxor could not allow Tavar to claim the cure for himself and himself alone.
Tavar believed that Jaxor only wanted revenge on Po’grak, the Jetutian who had ordered the attack on Luxirian females, the war commander of their race. And that was true. Jaxor wanted to run him through with his blade, one he’d crafted with his sorrow and grief. Only then would he feel like he had avenged his mother. Only then would he feel like he could breathe again.
Only then would he feel like he could look his blood brother in the eye again.
But there was more at stake. The future of their race, one that hopefully wouldn’t be under Tavar’s rule.
It was a roundabout, twisted plan.
But his plan hinged on Tavar’s trust in him, while Jaxor wondered if the Mevirax leader was even capable of it.
“I will get the human females back,” Jaxor said, looking him in the eye, if only to buy him more time.
“Vow it to Oxandri,” Laccara finally said, her voice hard and unyielding. “Give