Page 47 of Reaper
The Creckel ignored me. I wasn’t even sure he had heard anything I’d said he was so lost in his mate. Pushing my thoughts into his mind, I told him to come meet his sons. The rocking movement stopped, as did his mating chant. I repeated the images again, and this time he lifted his dragon head to look at me. My throat tightened painfully at the sight of tears streaking down from his dark blue lizard eyes. I had only ever seen a Creckel cry once, decades ago.
Forcing the words out of my mouth despite how constricted my throat felt, I gestured with my head towards Martha and Madeline. “They just finished giving your sons their first feeding.”
Stran emitted a choked sound that could have passed for a sob. He rubbed the tip of his snout against Leyi’s, then licked her terrible scar with his forked tongue, before untangling himself from her. Martha and Madeline, looking as emotional as I felt, presented Stran with his sons. Although they’d technically been born twenty-five years ago, the twins had stopped their growth at the age of five when they’d gone into hibernation and were now the size of a three-year old human.
Although groggy and still not fully aware, the young Creckels seemed to recognize a bond with Stran as he rubbed his scent on their faces and seemed to converse in that growly tone with them. Lying on his back in the most vulnerable position, he took each of his sons from the two Soulcatchers and cradled them on his belly. They curled up on top of him, and he slowly rocked back and forth, holding them with his front paws and his broad, flat tail resting over them like a blanket.
The towering silhouette of Doom suddenly blocked my line of sight. Startled, I looked up at the team leader, blown away to see the tears brimming in his large, black eyes devoid of sclera. He cupped my cheeks.
“You and your parents have given my best friend—my brother even—the greatest gift I could have ever dreamt for him,” Doom said in a voice filled with emotion. “I and the Vanguard can never thank you enough. We are forever in your debt.”
“There is no debt.Yousaved our lives,” I said, in a trembling voice.
“No, Janelle. You survived on your own, and kept all the others alive as well,” Doom countered gently. “We only let you out. Never doubt what a tremendously strong female you are: a true woman of the Vanguard. Welcome to the family.”
With these final words, he gently pressed his lips to my forehead before releasing me with a gentle smile. Turning on his heels, he joined his Soulcatcher, Jessica, who was tending to Leyi.
When Reaper’s arms closed around me from behind, I gratefully leaned back against his strong, muscular chest. Surrounded by his warmth and the loving embrace of his consciousness wrapped around mine, I listened to the purring chant of Stran singing a lullaby to his sons, mesmerized.
Chapter 18
Reaper
Although the adult Creckels had taken much longer to come out of hibernation, their full recovery happened a lot faster than with the young. According to my mate, it was due to their far more developed endocrine system and the fact that they had much better control over these complex functions of their bodies. Watching Stran rekindle his romance with his long-lost mate and bond with his sons moved us all to the core.
The Vanguard’s frigate arrived the day after Leyi’s awakening. Its landing had lured more Zebiers. Thankfully, Thanh and Madeline had repaired the ship’s broadcast system, allowing us to scare them away without a fight. While I would have enjoyed the battle, it would have been a gratuitous slaughter as we had no need of additional meat supplies.
We didn’t leave for another two days to both give the adult Creckels more time to regain their strength and to let them enjoy some sun as they hadn’t seen it for over three decades. To my utter distress, Brees and her companions still hadn’t decided to come to Khepri. The unfortunate incident with Terrence had not only made my homeworld less appealing, it had also reinforced their need to protect Janelle and the young. To top it all, reuniting with their original Creckel friends had alleviated their fears about settling on Dreija.
When we finally set off from the Moon of Melibos, Janelle bawled her eyes out, putting me on the verge of panic. I didn’t quite know how to handle such grief. Only, it turned out joy, and not sorrow at leaving her homeworld, had provoked such a display. Although she’d been freed for two weeks, as long as we had remained on ‘that wretched moon’ as my mate eloquently put it, she’d kept fearing something would happen, like the trap that had damaged the ship, that would keep us stranded there forever. When I asked Janelle why she hadn’t told me sooner of her fears so that I could have appeased them, my mate said that she worried saying it out loud might cause it to come to pass.
Adorably silly woman…
However, our departure wasn’t all happiness. Although he showed himself quite supportive of Stran deciding to travel back to Dreija onboard the frigate instead of in our chaser with us, Doom was devastated not to get to spend those last few days with his best friend and long-time war companion. But who could blame the Creckel for wanting to be with family and friends he had believed dead for more than thirty years?
Thanks to my mate, our team leader was given another opportunity to see his friend one last time. We’d initially planned on parting ways on Melibos, with our team flying straight back to Khepri while the frigate went to Dreija. However, Janelle pointed out that this could be her modified Creckels’ only opportunity to see the homeworld of their ancestors—should they decide to continue to Khepri—and for her to see where her mother had worked before her abduction. Our entire team wholeheartedly agreed. It was not only for the modified Creckels’ sakes, for my mate, and for Doom, but also to sate our own curiosity about the planet. Sadly, we couldn’t stay for more than a couple of days. Our mission had already far exceeded its planned duration and other missions required our attention elsewhere.
Our arrival on Dreija was rife with emotion. Although we landed in the authorized area, the Creckel welcoming party that awaited us would have sent most newcomers running for the hills. Deceptively, a single female Creckel approached. Bigger than Stran, she towered over him by a good head. Beneath her scales, the thickest I’d ever seen, the bladed darts that protruded appeared long enough to be daggers. I had heard of the Creckel Battle Maidens, but never dreamt of meeting one in the flesh, nor that she would be so impressive. She had to be at least eighty years old to be this tall and this thickly armored. I couldn’t wait to see how impressive Brees would become as she matured.
Although the female had certainly recognized our ships as belonging to the Vanguard, she kept a semi-aggressive stance until we disembarked, Doom in the lead. As soon as she saw him, she sent out a powerful wave of psychic energy, and then at least a hundred humongous Creckels of both genders seemed to appear out of thin air as they simultaneously dropped their camouflage. Their tails were already raised, ready to launch a barrage of bladed darts at us. Very little scared me, especially when it came to my own safety. But I would lie if I didn’t admit to feeling a little unnerved by this display of power. The memory of getting turned into a sieve by the modified Creckels remained far too fresh in my mind.
Two of the largest males—the size of a rhinoceros—came to flank the Battle Maiden Matriarch, although they stayed a couple of steps behind her as a sign of deference. At his current age of sixty, Stran still had fifteen years to go at least to match the size of the Matriarch and likely another five or ten to rival those males.
The impressive trio then approached Doom. Their bladed darts receded back under their scales, and their regal, draconic faces took on a friendly expression. Doom grinned and walked towards the female with open arms. She was so tall, despite Doom’s height of 6’8, he barely had to bow his head to gently rub his cheek’s scales against hers in a gesture reserved between very close friends or relatives.
When Stran came down the ramp with his mate and offspring, followed by the other original Creckels, the emotion that swept through the Matriarch and her troops was so raw and so deep it turned me upside down. Our hosts barked a series of short, rhythmic growls that were undeniably some type of chant welcoming victorious warriors home—in this instance, incredible survivors. With a signal from her head, the Matriarch gave her blessing for the Creckels to break rank and mingle with the newcomers. Judging by some of the almost desperate embraces, long-lost friends or family had been reunited.
Despite his imposing size, Stran almost looked like a teenager in front of a parent as he walked up to the Matriarch and exchanged with her a similar greeting as she had with Doom. Except this time on both of Stran’s cheeks, expressing a deeper bond still. But it was her reaction to his mate Leyi that floored me. The frantic embrace, and the way the Matriarch rubbed her face all over Leyi’s left me confused.
“Leyi is her daughter,” Janelle whispered, just as the Matriarch was finally letting go of Stran’s mate to turn her affection towards his two sons: her grandsons.
But even as she spoke those words, my mate’s hand tightened nervously around mine. Psychic energy swirled around her. I didn’t need to ask who she was speaking to. The clicking sound of the modified Creckels’ claws on the ramp as they waited their turn to be introduced to their ancestors was all the answer I needed.
“It will be fine, my love,” I whispered back to my mate while giving her a psychic caress. “They will not be blamed for what they are.”
Brees had been so brave, fierce, and dauntless since our first encounter, seeing her so nervous and uncertain filled my hearts with compassion. I understood all too well what it felt like to believe oneself inferior, an abomination, while meeting at last those we considered our betters: the originals. My brothers and I had been the Kryptid General Khutu’s attempt at creating his own super army of genetically engineered soldiers to rival the Xian Warriors. The day we stood before our golden brothers, I’d felt faint with nerves and the unsubstantiated fear they would reject us for the way we were born.
Still, the female continued to march forward, stopping a couple of meters in front of the Matriarch. The rest of the modified Creckels—who had now renamed themselves Horned Creckels—stood a few more meters behind her. Despite her nervousness and her desire to show deference to the elder female, Brees was the leader of her own people and needed to strike a proper balance where she wouldn’t be perceived as servile. Sitting back on her hind legs, she raised her front legs and then tilted her head back, exposing her vulnerable underbelly.