My Wild Beast-Chapter 76: Chief of the Oncari

Traipsing deeper into Oncari land, jaguars prowled through bushes like shadows, flanking Atia and Aiyana. The silence was suffocating, and the path to Prime Hollow felt endless, though in truth it was no longer than it had ever been.

Atia had shifted into his jaguar form, offering Aiyana silent support, occasionally nudging his head into her shoulder while she stared after her father’s broad back. Chief Tamuari led the way with purposeful strides, his long hair plaited on either side of his face, falling past his chest. His dark skin shimmered under the dappled light, revealing the faint jaguar markings beneath the surface. Like many of the Oncari, he was tall and powerfully built, but his strength as a leader came from his wisdom.

During his time as the Oncari leader, only a handful of hotheads had the gall to challenge Chief Tamuari. They left half-broken, humbled, and a lesson carved into their battered bodies: Age does not equal to weakness.

Slowly, the path that thrummed with a golden glow only the Oncari could see began to fade. On a silent cue, those who had been flanking Atia and Aiyana dispersed, heading off to hunt, return to their families, or laze in the shade until nightfall as if the confrontation with the eagle shifters had never happened.

Wordlessly, Aiyana followed her father into the stone maw of Prime Hollow. The entrance had been carved into jaguar’s head, mid-roar, its maw wide and eternal, fangs jutting like sacred blades. They stepped over the lower teeth as a cold, mystical breath roared from within.

Atia lingered at the threshold, uncertain if he was allowed to come inside.

"You too, Atia," came Tamuari’s low command, his gaze fixed forward.

Atia hopped over the sharp, rocky teeth and clambered up beside Aiyana who spared him a glance, like she might have some sarcastic comment for him if she was in her human form. Atia bumped his head into hers and she rolled her eyes and huffed, leaning her head away from him, but her tail coiled around his briefly before stepping away.

Inside, the air was cool and still but charged. Threads of golden light webbed the stone walls, pulsing gently like a steady heartbeat, the power warming the ground beneath their paws. Some of the rocks were covered in moss, glowing soft blue and casting gentle beacons along the path. Carvings lined the cave walls, stories unfolding in jaguars and symbols as they ventured deeper. Whenever one looked away, the ancient drawings would shift—reshaping into a new tale or pausing to form feline eyes, as though their ancestors were watching back.

The scent of smoke and crushed herbs drifted around them, and high above, bone charms swayed gently. This was where the Oncari held council and performed rituals, but to Atia and Aiyana, it was mostly where they’d been scolded.

In the centre of the cave, a fire pit was already alight. The stone was sunken lower than the rest of the cavern floor, and shaped like an almond around the fire, the pit in the middle making it like an eye. Five thrones carved from dark stone sat at the opposite side of the fire, formed in a semi-circle and raised slightly higher to overlook the pit and those not on the council.

Already, four of the thrones were occupied, the largest waiting to be filled by Tamuari. The chief’s seat loomed just beyond the fire, carved to resemble a crouching jaguar, its paws resting on either side of the armrests, eyes glowing faintly from inset stones.

Chief Tamuari rounded the fire, his strides long and deliberate as he made his way to his seat. Those already seated, bowed their heads slightly in deference, and he sat down to face his daughter and her friend. They remained standing, ignoring the hides on the ground where others might have kneeled or lain before the fire and council.

Beyond them were small alcoves in the walls where they kept bones, talismans and old relics, slabs of symbols, drawn from their ancestors.

Aiyana’s attention drew back to her father’s stern gaze after feeling the weight of it on her. Her brows almost shot up at the blank ink drawn across his eyes in a solid rectangle. Her father was wearing war paint.

Either her father and the tribe were already on a hunt for a fight, which was rare among their kind to hunt together, or he’d become aware of the situation at Soluma and dressed for the occasion before bringing his warriors to their side.

"Father-"

"What happened?" Tamuari cut her off, eyes ablaze as he stared her down. "What trouble has my daughter caused to bring the wrath of Silver Feather upon our threshold?"

Aiyana shared a look with Atia, wordlessly agreeing to tell her father everything. The pair shifted back into their human form and lifted their chins confidently.

"Yohuali-"

A hiss resounded from behind Aiyana, halting her words further at the viciousness of the sound, causing a prickling sensation on the back of her neck and the fine hairs to raise. Aiyana swivelled her head, eyes glowing from the disrespect of being interrupted, and her shoulders pulling back more, bracing herself for another attack. But it did not come.

"Hana," Tamuari warned sharply, his voice low, but her father never needed to raise his voice to draw his point across a crowd.

The moment Aiyana’s eyes clashed with Hana’s, the tension in her shoulders relaxed a little. Hana was Kanti’s mother, and she might not have been close with her but she’d grown up with Kanti, a little disgusted when they were cubs and she had hearts in her eyes for Yoa.

"Continue," Tamuari gestured to Aiyana.

Aiyana’s lips parted but she hesitated, glancing at Hana. One impatient look from her father was all the motivation she needed to tell him everything, even with an unwanted guest now listening in, and solely because it was Yoa’s closest friends returning to the tribe, looking exhausted from their latest adventures.

"Yoa has been blessed with a Serakai..." Aiyana began.

Hana snarled behind her and began pacing, glaring in their direction.

"He did not kill Kanti!" Atia clipped, sounding exasperated. This wasn’t the first time he’d implored with Hana to listen to him, and take him for his word. Guilt nipped at his chest for his outburst towards a woman who was clearly in pain and still grieving.

"So, you say," Hana growled back, her eyes like daggers. "But you three are bound tighter than vines. We cannot take your word for it."

Atia took a step in her direction, but Aiyana’s hand pressed to his chest stopped him. With a shake of her head, he looked away. One hand raised to his plait until plait until he realised what he was doing and dropped it.

"If you cannot hold your tongue, Hana, then step outside," Tamuari said, glowering down from his seat.

Hana’s lips trembled but she dropped her gaze in answer.

Tamuari’s head moved back to the pair and arched a brow. "Well?"

"Right..." Aiyana then retold what happened in the last few sunrises.

Raokan, Yoa’s father leaned forward, arms resting on his thighs, brows pinching together. "Why did Yohuali leave his Serakai alone in the first place?"

Atia and Aiyana glanced at each other then to a few others that had gathered behind them.

"Leave," Tamuari commanded, flicking his hand idly and watched as everyone, including Hana were sent away, providing them the privacy they needed to continue the conversation.

Once it was only them, Aiyana walked around the fire and up the step to kneel between her father and Raokan. Tamuari stopped her, his brows drawn together as he saw the dried blood on the back of her leg and the slight limp to her step.

"There was a threat on the island," Aiyana explained. "I do not know what it was but he ordered us to protect Nova-"

"From Vulcan?" Tamuari asked, his hand drifting away from Aiyana’s wrist as they gazed up at her from their thrones.

"That’s right." The other members of the council murmured their dislike for Vulcan and his mother.

Raokan clicked his tongue and sat back. His features were so similar to Yoa’s. He was just an older, sterner version of him. He too was bulky but not quite as large as Yoa.

"You say the Sky Matron is dead?" Tamuari continued his line of questioning, his exasperation about his daughter’s troublesome ways giving way to the need to pick apart every detail.

"Vulcan killed her himself," Atia added.

The council exchanged murmurs; voices hushed with disbelief, their concern for the tribe now directing towards the new leader of the harpy eagles.

"And what of Kanti?" asked Orima, Atia’s mother, from the furthest throne. She was always calm, composed—and utterly breathtaking. Her beauty had passed down to him. "Yoa left her body here."

Atia frowned at his mother but did not comment, allowing Aiyana to explain further. She only redirected the conversation back to Kanti and Yoa so his name would be cleared, and they would stop wasting their precious time and energy chasing him. Atia assumed, from the face paint on Chief Tamuari and some of the others, that they were about to hunt for Yoa.

Even if Tamuari believed Yoa would not intentionally murder one of their own, he would accept his tribe’s wishes until there was evidence to prove his innocence.

"Yoa had been trying to save Kanti and feels responsible for her death. But if you must hunt something it would be the Ichtaca."

The moment the name Ichtaca left Aiyana’s lips, the air in Prime Hollow shifted. The fire crackled louder, as if reacting. The council stiffened, their expressions hardening with disbelief and unease. One muttered a prayer under their breath.

Raokan and Tamuari exchanged a glance and nodded. The truth about Kanti would remain unspoken, but at least the search for Yoa could end. One burden lifted for their friend, though many still remained.

Updat𝓮d from freew𝒆bnov𝒆l.co(m)