18. Chapter 18

My anger reached its boiling point by the time we made it back to camp. My warriors kept congratulating me on my kill as six of them carried the dead xythrax. But any elation over killing the beast was suppressed by a rage churning my stomach the likes of which I hadn't known in a long time.

Ahead of me walked part of the source of it. Wiggling her ass as if trying to entice me. Her long, wavy black hair was held back by a bright colored string, looking like a tail, and waved in rhythm with her pace. Dammit, why had she been there?

"I beg your forgiveness, Khadahr. When we left, we didn't know there was a xythrax about," Del-Khet apologized.

"That I can forgive." I glared at him coldly. "What I cannot forgive is you taking a gallis on a hunt. "

Del-Khet lowered his gaze. "It was a deep error in judgment, and I will take any punishment you see fit."

In my anger, I wanted to choke him, but I managed to grunt out, "Ten lashes."

Del-Khet's jaw tightened, but he nodded, accepting the judgment. That he hadn't tried to lay the blame on the human guards or Gwyn, spoke of his character. He was a good warrior, but he needed to be punished for his stupidity, to set an example for others.

The gallies were not to be endangered. It didn't matter that they hadn't known about the xythrax. Other predators roamed the wildlands. Warriors got hurt during hunts, and a gallis didn't stand a chance.

The possibility of Gwyn getting hurt sat more than ill with me.

Much of what happened after I broke through the narran-twells—twisted trees—was lost to me in a haze of red fury. I remembered seeing the xythrax homing in on the hunting group, but when I realized who it was locked in on, my gut dropped. It was her , Gwyn.

Just like in my dream!

A deep fear took root inside me.

I didn't give why she was there a moment's consideration as the xythrax readied itself to jump on her, his jaw open. I still shudder to think of what those teeth would have done to her fragile body. For a moment, I even expected my feet to be stuck in grasping sands or not to want to move at all like in my dream, but to my relief they surged forward, straight for the beast about to kill her .

I had prayed to Vorag for guidance in this endeavor and had made peace with the fact that I would mate one of the humans responsible for the death of our gallies. So when Vorag put her and the xythrax in front of me, his will became clear to me. In order for me to claim my khadahrshi, I would have to prove myself to her and my warriors, maybe even to Vorag himself.

Those thoughts should have been my driving force, but they weren't. Instead, it was my fear for her that gave me wings. The roar leaving my lips was born from sheer anguish for her . For just a fraction of a second, I saw her speared by the xythrax's wicked teeth, saw her fragile body ripped to shreds. And the pain in my chest was indescribable. It couldn't have been worse if somebody had tried to rip my still-beating heart out.

The camp looked exactly the same when we entered as it had when we left. Humans were mostly sitting, waiting for their food to be served while my warriors guarded, cooked, and did all the chores necessary.

My already sour mood turned even darker. Had I made a mistake? These gallies didn't appear at all as if they wanted to make themselves of use or to try to blend into our society. Neither had the human guards offered to help patrol, which was fine with me, but gods, what was wrong with the lot?

"Oh, Khadahr, you're injured." Sandra rushed forward like a good female was supposed to, greeting the warrior as he returned from the hunt. Not joining the hunt .

"It's nothing." I waved her off .

"But you're bleeding." She pointed at my arm, side, and leg. Funny, I remembered the xythrax getting the better of me twice, but I had no idea how my arm got cut.

Sandra's hands fussed over me, not touching the wounds or my blood, trying my patience until I pushed her off with an exasperated huff. I went in search of Bra-Tar, whom I had specifically ordered not to allow the hunting party to leave this morning, let alone take Gwyn with them.

"I beg your forgiveness Khadahr, the hunting party had already left before I could relay your orders," Bra-Tar apologized, rushing to my side. His eyes reflected the shame of not having been able to follow my orders and acceptance of whatever punishment I deemed necessary to mete out.

I wasn't even angry with him for that. That part had been my oversight. I had been so eager to hunt the damn xythrax, that I hadn't even considered how Bra-Tar was supposed to deliver my message. None of my warriors spoke the English language well enough for that. Nek, my anger was mostly still directed at Del-Khet and Mak-Thar for allowing Gwyn to accompany them.

"Did you know the mush-headed, ill-advised sons of dryckens took one of the gallies with them?" I snarled at him.

Bra-Tar shook his head in horror. "I had no idea. Forgive me, Khadahr. I should have done a head count."

Szun-Var joined us as I placed my hand on Bra-Tar's shoulder. "I don't hold you accountable for it." To Szun-Var, I said, "Del-Khet and Mak-Thar need to be punished."

"As you wish." Szun-Var inclined his head .

"Ten lashes each. Call the camp together. Everyone is to attend. I will hand out the punishment."

"These need to be stitched." Szun-Var indicated my side and arm.

I grunted my agreement. He was right. But I was impatient to get the punishment over with. I didn't enjoy flogging my warriors, but unfortunately, it was a necessary evil to keep discipline.

I walked straight to Khar-Del, who I knew from prior experiences wielded a needle just as well as his ladle. He knew I didn't care if the scar looked ragged, as long as it stopped bleeding, and he made quick business of it.

In the meantime, Szun-Var called in the members of the camp, human and Vandruk alike. They were waiting for me when Khar-Del was done with me. Schooling my expression, I marched into the middle of camp, where Del-Khet and Mak-Thar stood with their backs exposed, facing away from me. Without a word, Szun-Tan handed me the leather strip.

"These warriors have shamed the name of the Vandruk by the ill-advised act of bringing a gallis to the hunt, endangering her life. They will take their punishment as Vandruks do to remind everyone that these gallies cannot be harmed or put at risk in any way. They are our only future."

I repeated my words in English for the human gallies and swung the leather strip to bring it down on Del-Khet first.

It was an art on how to mete out the punishment without drawing blood. Some crimes were punished by the offender being whipped bloody, but not now, not here. Had we been in the city, I might have. But out here, warriors were valuable, and I could not afford to lose one to a simple punishment by his wounds festering. The message would be clear and understood either way.

The leather whipped through the air and hit Del-Khet's flesh. The muscles underneath twitched, but that was all the indication he gave. Good male.

I counted out the lashes. "One… two…"

"Stop, oh my God, what are you doing?" a voice in English, so familiar by now I didn't have to turn to recognize her, called out.

Had she not heard what I announced?

Gwyn rushed around, facing me, looking distraught. "You can't do this."

"Gallis, you do not tell a khadahr what he can or cannot do," I spat out.

"Why are you punishing them?" she demanded, her tits heaving enticingly, pushed out with her chest held forward while her hands were tightly fisted into her hips. Her very full, rounded hips.

Sweat trickled down my temples, tickling me and raising the urge to wipe it away, but I was holding the leather strip in both hands, snapping it.

"Because they endangered you," I threw in her face.

"What?" She took a step back. "No, that isn't right."

I moved around her and moved the leather through the air. Instead of slinking back like I would have expected, she moved again straight into my field of vision, curling her little fingers around my biceps to still the leather before it snarled through the air.

"It's not their fault, please. I talked them into it," she pleaded .

Coldly I stared down at her. "Are you willing, then, to take their punishment? Ten lashes each?"

Her eyes widened in apprehension, but she surprised me when she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin determinedly. "I am."

Cold fury rushed through me. "So be it."