He reached for a rock, clutching it in his hand like a totem and brought it down onto the orixas’s head. Blood sprayed.
He drew his arm back and hit the male again. And again. And again...
Someone was screaming in rage. Hands pulled at him. A calming voice begged him to wake up.
He was alone now.
His family was gone.
All alone.
The Orixas had stopped moving but it wasn’t enough that he was dead. Rathal wanted him destroyed. Death would never be enough for what they did.
“Rathal! Rathal, come back to us. You are in a memory. It’s not real.”
More hands dragged him back. He fought viciously, snarling and snapping at them.
“Calm, Rathal. It is alright. You’re safe. You are not alone.”
Lies!
Small delicate hands touched his face, holding his jaws closed with surprising strength.
“Rathal,” a female voice said sternly. “You are on Erral. The Fall is over. Wake. Up. You’ve injured one of your people.”
Som’ae.
He knew her. His friend. A dear friend.
Erral.
He was on Erral and the Fall was over. It happened thousands of years ago. This burning city wasn’t real. He’d never been to Ara’Ama after the Fall. He hadn’t seen it with his own eyes. Hadn’t smelled the death and smoke of burning bodies. Only the drone feeds had provided the vision of horrors that haunted him. This was only in his mind.
The hot smoke faded, no longer burning his eyes. The smell of death was replaced with the spiced scent of his palace.
He drew in a breath, closing his eyes, and when he opened them, the many faces of the RRR team were staring down at him. The one holding his jaws let her hands fall away. She was a small, wisened female with tall wide ears and a canid face. Her familiar worried features helped settle him more firmly in reality.
“Som’ae? I’m sorry. Who did I kill this time?” he asked, mournfully. His throat closed around a tight knot while his heart squeezed painfully in his chest.
Her sharp exhale of breath was full of relief. “No one. Jorrel is alive. Busted up, but alive. You tried to bash his skull in with a statue.”
He winced, jerking away from the words. “I am so sorry. I was not myself.”
Som’ae patted his cheek. “Mating is hard, I know. But do try to maintain control of yourself. You were doing so well.”
The others—sensing that he was back to normal—released their hold on his body. He slid to the floor, slumping against the wall.
“I was emotionally compromised. Jorrel startled me. I’ll go see him at the Healers and apologize. Will the usual compensation suffice?”
Som’ae straightened, taking a step back and nodded her head before waving the rapid response team away. “Yes. That shoulddo. Though you might want to give him a little extra this time. He seems to take the brunt of your episodes.”
Rathal grimaced again. “Yes. He’s an Orixas. It was warned in their employment contracts that I found their species especially triggering. Still, poor Jorrel does always seem to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
This was the third time Rathal had tried to kill the male.
“Yes. But think of the positives. This is excellent training for the new recruits to the Rathal Rapid Response team! They got here once the alert sounded in under two minutes. That’s a new record.”
Rathal had long ago set up a separate security team to intervene when he lost himself to his memories. They were there to protect both Rathal and whoever should have the unfortunate luck to witness his instability. They had gotten very good at their jobs.
