“Why can’t they just grow their own?” I couldn’t help but wonder. “Why steal it from you?”

“Because of the land. It’s always about the land. The Kaalium,” Azur answered. His fingers pressed into my back, his claws digging slightly, but I didn’t mind it. “There’s a long history there. Between my ancestors and the Kaazor. Bloody too. This land is soaked with Kaazor blood. And Kaalium blood. It’s only in the Kaalium that lore grows strong. The Kaazor can grow it. As can the Thryki and the Koro and the Dyaar across the seas. But it’s our soil and our earth that make it renowned across the Quadrants. And we’ve fought many wars over this land because of it. We’ll likely fight many more.”

My lips parted. Again I felt a dizzying wave of overwhelming ineptitude. That I truly didn’t understand anything about the alien race I’d married into.

“War?” I whispered.

His face softened. My heart thudded and skipped in my chest when I saw it.

“Do not fear, wife,” he told me. “Between Laras and my brothers’ territories, the Kaalium has the greatest army on Krynn. If war does come, it will be over swiftly.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” I informed him.

He grunted and turned us so that we could continue walking down the path, getting closer and closer to Laras. I could just make out a bell ringing, the deep chimes spreading over the land. It rang at the same time every morning. I’d often heard it from the back of the terrace, even over the crashing of the waves below.

“Then it’s a good thing that your husband is a berserker,” he answered me. “Because I would tear anyone in two if they came for you.”

I barely stifled my gasp. His words had been so flippant. My mind flashed back to carvings in the hallway, depictions of bloody battles and endless violence.

It was easy to forget that the Kylorr’s brutality was infamous. When humans fought in wars, we used weapons. Tech.

But the Kylorr?

They used their bare hands, their fangs, their claws, their blades.

So why wasn’t I frightened by his words?

To distract myself from that startling realization, I asked, “Will you go after Maazin?”

“Yes.”

I couldn’t help but imagine Maazin being torn in two.

“Don’t,” I pleaded softly.

Azur growled, stopping on the pathway again. “Don’t?”

“He’s young,” I whispered, meeting his eyes. Maazin was younger than even me. He’d been kind to me. He hadn’t needed to be. In fact, it would’ve served him better if he’d kicked me out of his office entirely from that very first day.

But he hadn’t.

“He made a mistake. Does he deserve to…to die for that?”

“It was a betrayal, not a mistake,” Azur told me, his voice hardened like steel. “No one takes from House Kaalium and gets away with it. There must be punishment for any wrongdoing, or else the balance of the realms is threatened.”

There was an edge in his voice that felt off. His gaze burned into mine. My lungs suddenly felt tight.

“Please,” I whispered, reaching out to take his hand.

A rough sound rose from Azur’s throat, guttural and raw. His eyes were angry, but he pulled me closer until I could feel the strength of his body against mine. My back arched so I could look up at him.

“And what would you do, wife, to ensure his life?”

I sucked in a sharp breath. There was a dangerous gleam in his eyes, one I was bewildered to say made my pulse flutter and my thighs squeeze together.

“Anything you want,” I answered. Softly. Carefully.

Another of our games. Only this time, it felt much, much more serious.

His hands tightened on me as his nostrils flared. His cock was thickening against me, hard like his voice but hot like the fire in his gaze.

He leaned down and I held my breath, tilting my neck back. He liked it when I submitted to him like this. And a part of me liked it too. To let him take control. It felt freeing to just let go.

I was thrumming in anticipation, but his bite never came. Instead, he leaned back.

He grunted, “No. There is no time.”

Disappointment crashed into me. Azur saw it, and the maddening male actually smirked.

Then I watched it slowly die.

“We’ll discuss Maazin later,” he told me, straightening.

Relief threaded through me. “All right.”

He pulled me along the path, and I stumbled after him. The path was widening, more light filtering in, and I saw a silver gate at the very end. Was this the only path up to the keep? I wondered.

“Thank you,” I couldn’t help but say quietly.

“I haven’t decided to spare him yet, Gemma,” Azur informed me, frowning down at me.

“No,” I said. “I meant thank you for telling me about Maazin. You didn’t hide the truth from me. You told me when I asked. I…I appreciate that.”

Azur went quiet, but I was proud that I’d voiced the sentiment. There were too many lies in my life. From my own parents. Lies I’d told my sisters. I appreciated the truth for once, even if it led to unfavorable conclusions.

“I will endeavor to be honest with you, if I can be,” Azur finally grunted, leading me through the silver gate at the end of the pathway. “Now, come. We’ll take our morning meal in the central square.”

Now that we’d broken through the line of the trees, it seemed like the sounds of the village hit me in the face, though it was still early in the morning.

“Can we get steam cakes?” I asked instead. “From Ludayn’s mother?”

Azur stilled. “Steam cakes?”

“Yes,” I said, want threading through me, my belly rumbling at the mere thought of them. “Please? I’ve wanted to visit her shop. And it’s still early, so the line might not be too long.”

Azur sighed. “Very well.”

Chapter 30

Azur

Kalia had been working hard, I saw, when we stepped into Laras. I’d flown into the village nearly every night but hadn’t stopped to really notice all the changes. The banners for the harvest festival were on full display, glimmering in the sunlight, stitched with silver.

I knew the north end of the village would be cleared already, vendors setting up their temporary shops to accommodate the influx of travelers and visitors who lived beyond Laras’s borders. Even those who would travel from all stretches of the Kaalium to journey to the capital for the week-long festivities. The inns were preparing too, though I knew they’d likely been booked up for the last month at least. The blood givers would be taking extra doses of baanye. The food stalls and shops would be preparing for the longest week of the season, working tirelessly. The seamstresses were likely bleeding from their fingertips to get all the orders out for the upcoming ball.

My own brothers would be coming for the harvest ball at the keep. The single event of the year where we were all together, though my father wouldn’t be in attendance.

My brothers would finally meet Gemma.

I still didn’t know how I felt about that.

I turned my gaze to where my wife was chatting quite happily with Ludayn and her mother, who plied her with yet another steam cake, one she was all too happy to accept. I knew the female’s name was Yeeda, with blue hair like her daughter’s and small horns to match. Dyaar males, in comparison, had some of the largest horns of our race.

Looking toward Ludayn’s limp wing, my lips pressed as I thought, And the Dyaar have some of the most brutal males.

A crime like that, especially against one’s own blood, would be punished in kind in the Kaalium.

Ludayn’s father would have had his wings ripped from his own body as penance. Then he would’ve been put to death.

Nyravila.

An eye for an eye.

The Dyaar’s laws were lax about such things.