Chapter 22

A s night fell in the skies above KySyene, Kaxim sat alone in the veranda of his k?lajan .

Earlier, still unable to face Liana, he’d checked in with Ja’Kan to ensure she was resting well.

When her attendant confirmed the fact, the Katánian Commander stalked to his marquee, preferring to brood in silence and privacy.

So, for the first time in days, he left her in the hands of her staff, keen to escape the churning emotion between them.

Fokk! The tension was reaching a boiling point.

He’d just finished a meal and poured a crystal tumbler of spirits when the sound of pinions slicing through the air toward him drew his attention.

He rose from his seat and glanced to the skies. His eyes narrowed, spotting not one but two familiar figures descending from the sky—a sight that had him arching a brow.

A magnificent chromed creature swooped onto the k?lajan’s wrap-around terrace.

The titanic-winged predator’s chrome wings fanned out. His eyes blazed with silver flames, and his limbs transformed into burnished bronze talons over six feet long.

His feathered and cromed krest shook in the wind above his splendid skull.

Kaxim sucked his teeth as a bright pulse of the newcomer’s hawkstone threw an immense veil of íkan over Kaxim’s tent and the immediate area, so he landed undetected.

He settled on the surface with a flourish, transmuting to his human form, fixing Kaxim with a piercing gaze.

A second winged and taloned silhouette also touched down in the giant eagle’s wake. It transformed into Kione, his lips curled in a grin, in stark contrast to the stern glare on his majestic companion’s countenance.

Kaxim narrowed his eyes, bracing, sensing this visit was not in his favor.

Neither was it intended to be short, evidenced by the hefty bags the pair tossed into a corner of the bivouac.

‘What brings you both here?’ the King’s First rasped, his tone wary as Killen folded back his wings and stalked toward him.

‘No bowed knee, no kowtowing for your King?’ Kione grated with an arched brow.

Kaxim huffed and, with a dramatic flair, hit the deck on one leg.

‘Fokk off with the formalities,’ the Sovereign growled, cutting straight to the chase. ‘We need to talk. I want to meet the Kwen? of the Ilki.’

‘Why?’ Kaxim asked, rising to his feet and glaring at his smirking best friend.

‘I daresay he wants to reacquaint his ass with the kríffin he saved on Mount Karth,’ Kione drawled, helping himself to a platter of food on a table nearby.

Killen flung his burly physique into one outdoor terrace lounge. ‘I also want to ensure the trade routes remain uninterrupted between our realms because Ilkan’s grain stored feed most of Kos.’

‘Not a care nor thought of me or even a query on how I’m going?’ Kaxim grumbled, pouring a beer at the side cabinet.

‘You look fit as a fiddle, my friend. Being in Ilki territory suits you.’

The Commander raised a finger at his liege. ‘Fokk off. So you want to discern if she’s a proponent of a strong alliance with Katánē,’ Kaxim rasped, handing Killen a frothy stein.

‘Or whether she holds us responsible for the K?str?l attacks,’ Kione suggested, strolling back towards the pair with a loaded plate.

‘She doesn’t,’ Kaxim said, shaking his head. ‘Bringing my squadron here and having them train the Ilki warriors has helped alleviate doubt about our aspirations for their realm.’

Killen nodded his approval. ‘Good work strengthening the partnership as our emissary.’

Kaxim raised a brow and jerked his chin. ‘Fokk, I sense there’s more.’

The King glanced at Kione, the latter struggling to hide a smirk, before returning his gaze to the man. ‘KaKos won’t just disappear and play nice. His need and greed mean this conflict may escalate. Which brings us back to the Ilkanite Queen.’

The Kíríga’s First growled, his heart skipping a beat, though he maintained his stoic facade. ‘What about her?’

‘She’s the one you’re soul bonded to, isn’t she?’ the King asked, raising an eyebrow.

Kaxim stiffened, not liking where this was going. ‘ Naam ,’ he said with caution. ‘But what does that have to do with the war?’

Killen exchanged another look with his Second, who was now smirking.

‘I had a thought,’ the Kíríga murmured, ‘What if the spirit bond could be used for Katánē’s good?’

Kaxim’s eyes narrowed. ‘What the fokk do you mean?’ he growled, the words almost catching in his throat.

‘You’re already connected to her,’ the King continued, his inflection speculative. ‘What if we establish an even more solid link?’

Kaxim frowned, not following. ‘How?’

Kione, unable to contain himself, burst out laughing. ‘Through seduction, temptation, and erections of sublime proportions.’

‘What in the ever-lovin’ hell? Kaxim whispered, his growl laced with menace.

His brow furrowed, still not grasping the game afoot.

‘Marriage, you fool!’ Kione chuckled, slapping Kaxim on the back with far too much enthusiasm. ‘How else?’

The King’s First stared at his mate, slack-jawed.

‘ Fokkinhellshitandfeathers !’ Kaxim groaned. ‘Don’t you both have nothing better to do than to plot a man’s demise? You fokkers are freakin’ testing me.’

Kione roared with laughter at Kaxim’s pained expression. ‘Think about it! Your sacrifice will be the pinnacle of your service!’

‘While some drink from the fountain of knowledge, I’m convinced you only gargled,’ Kaxim scoffed.

His ire flamed, eyes flashing as he whirled around to the Kíríga sipping on his beer. ‘Are you on this same blasted orbit to hell, Killen?’

The silver-haired royal jerked his chin in confirmation. ‘It’ll be the ultimate token of your loyalty, and you’ll be much rewarded for it.’

‘No fokkin’ way,’ the Sāb?r Hawk commander retorted, shaking his head as if to rid himself of the absurdity of the suggestion.

He let his mask of a dutiful warrior slip, revealing the turmoil that raged within.

‘I cannot, will not do this,’ he growled, reaching for his tumbler of spirits.

He tipped it back, welcoming the burn that scorched his throat. ‘To marry her goes against everything I believe. My duty is to Katánē and Katánē alone.’

Kione sobered up, tagging his friend’s misery.

His face was etched with sympathy as he clasped Kaxim’s shoulder. ‘Even more so, it’s why this the best way forward. I know it’s not what you’d ever have envisioned, my friend. But think of our people. This union could be their salvation and ours, too; it’d stop the endless war between our Kingdoms.’

‘As our esteemed colleague has alluded to, it’s not just a wild notion,’ the King said solemnly. ‘Your duty is to the throne, and this marriage serves us all well. It’s also a good way to forge a strong alliance with the southern kingdom for perpetuity.’

Kaxim’s temper rose, his face heating with anger. ‘You want me to marry her as part of some political maneuvering?’ he demanded, his voice climbing in pitch. ‘Are you both out of your mind?’

His best friend, ever the instigator, leaned in with a teasing grin. ‘Come on, it’s not like you don’t like her. I’d say you’re hella fond of her. Imagine the wedding night—’

‘Fokkin’ shut it!’ Kaxim snapped, his eyes flashing in warning. His lodestone pulsed, and the start of a headache pounded in his temples, his fists clenching at his sides.

‘Besides, she’ll end your woman drought and forced celibacy, given you’ve had no pussy for years and your hand is weary from all that -.’

Kaxim rose from his seat and reached a hand to slap his friend around the head. Kione, fast as a whippet, ducked with a grin.

Before the situation devolved, Killen raised a hand, commanding silence, his hawkstone flashing.

‘Enough,’ the King grunted, his voice brooking no argument. ‘I don’t want to compel you, Kaxim, but if I have to, I will.’

Kaxim fell silent, leaning back in his chair. His anger was still simmering, but now it was laced with resignation.

Although he hated the idea, he couldn’t ignore the responsibility of his position and his unshakable loyalty to his liege.

Also, how much fokkin’ sense the King was making about the strategic importance of his proposal.

Still, his heart warred with his mind, and he scowled, turning away from his companions as he tried to wrestle his emotions back under control.

For several long minutes, he brooded, staring off into the distance as he mulled over the situation. Finally, with considerable reluctance, he muttered, ‘Fine. But only if she agrees. I won’t force her into this.’

The King nodded, satisfied. ‘Fair enough. The sooner we solidify this alliance, the better.’

Kione sidled up to Kaxim, clapping him on the back again. ‘See? Was that so hard?’

Kaxim shot him a withering glare. ‘I’ll remember this,’ he growled, but his tone hinted at grudging acceptance.

‘Looking forward to it,’ his friend replied, his grin widening.

Killen sat up, extending a small half tin of a dark substance. ‘Have some klaw , take the edge off.’

Kaxim curled his lip at the proffered item and, with a growl, took a lump and tossed it into his mouth.

His tongue pressed against the nugget, rolling it as it dissolved.

A raw grittiness coated his taste buds, and he savored the bitterness that filled his palate with a sharp, earthy flavor.

Its potency hit his lodestone, and he inhaled, welcoming the kick of peace it delivered.

The King leaned back with a huff, nailing Kaxim with a pointed expression. ‘Can you send word to the Kwen? that we want an audience with her?’

Kaxim nodded, still dazed at what was transpiring.

The trio spent the next few minutes discussing state matters, army and defense-related issues, and catching up on life.

Kione tried for humor, but Kaxim was too amped up to relax, and Killen was too watchful of his First.

The air was tense, most roiling off Kaxim despite the klaw’s potency.

In time, Killen called it a night.

The King strode to his friend and slid an arm around his back. ‘I get that your first love is Katánē, and I am ever grateful for that. But my hawkstone indicates your sacrifice will not be in vain. To have the kind of deep soul bond you have with the Queen tells me a payout is coming. For such profound khamana íkan does not come without the promise of eternal devotion.’

Kaxim tilted his head and narrowed his eyes on his Kíríga , bristling with doubt. ‘I want to trust you, but I cannot.’

Killen leaned in, his lodestone pulsing with light that fell over the brooding, cynical man, washing into his soul. ‘You need to believe, my friend. Skepticism is the refuge of embittered ghouls, a weight that drags down vision and action. It has never built kingdoms, forged virtue, or inspired hearts. Throughout history, the change-makers who’ve shaped realms and left legacies have always been souls of faith, driven by a belief in something greater than doubt.’

Kaxim suppressed an eye roll, hit with deep dread and wariness. ‘ Sante for the lyrical waxing, but I loathe poetic chicanery. Let’s get real. What happens now?’

Killen shrugged, lips twitching. ‘We petition Liana. From what I see in your eyes, she is a formidable woman, so I look forward to persuading her and her council to go along -.’

‘- with this shitshow,’ Kaxim finished in a snarl.

‘Such a grump. Always bringing the mood down,’ Kione called from the seat he was lounging in, rolling a ball of klaw between his lips.

‘I’d like to kick you out of my freakin’ camp but can’t. Thank fokk, my k?lajan has room for you. Find a divan and furs yourselves. I’m off to bed.’

‘Had enough of our bullshit, ay?’ Kione chuckled.

‘You’re the bane of my plumed existence.’

Kaxim glared at the pair before swiveling on his heel and stalking toward his sleeping chamber, still grappling with the implications of what he had just agreed to.

Fokk, this play would change everything, and he’d no idea if it’d be for better or worse.

And as much as he loathed to admit it, the thought of being bound, not just by soul, but by body and promise to Liana didn’t fill him with dread.

But he’d be damned if he let his friends see that.