by Ann Aguirre
Well, shit. It was too much for a little girl to carry, but she hadn’t wanted to give it to her grandmother. Like Pru, she’d probably been worried about hurting someone else. Dom gathered Jilly close as she cried, until her face was sticky and red, and tears spangled her lashes.
This is what family feels like.
“Tell me what he looks like, and I’ll hunt him down,” he whispered.
Jilly described the visitor to the best of her ability, and it sounded like one of the wolves, which made things a little more complicated, but he didn’t doubt Raff would see the asshole disciplined. Eventually his small cousin drifted off against his chest and her kinfolk came back.
“You’re good with children,” Glynnis murmured.
“Since Jilly needed me, I’m glad I came, but I’m looking for Pru. Have you seen her?”
Joss stared at him, wide-eyed. “Didn’t she say good-bye?”
“What?” His blood froze solid.
24.
This was the biggest operation Pru had ever participated in.
Since she’d been on mission precisely once, that wasn’t saying much, but when Magda asked if she wanted in on the scouting run to make sure the road was clear for Princess Thalia, she volunteered in a heartbeat. After being abducted by that damn Noxblade, she was still eager to prove herself. Nobody had questioned her status as pride matron, but she wouldn’t feel right about using the title until she returned from a successful op like a warrior.
Probably, she should’ve said something to Dom first, but she’d suspected he might object. So as a result, she told Joss and Aunt Glynnis, then headed out to join the squad; they were thirty strong, mostly pride mates she knew only by sight. Hugh was the one exception, and she was surprised to find Caio on active duty, but he was still lithe for such an old lion.
The security chief made a tough call about traveling in cat form, as it would leave them vulnerable if they needed to shift later. But ambushes would also be easier, and there was no need to haul weapons. If things turned for the worse, they’d also be better equipped to scatter and make their way back to the hold separately. As usual, Pru was the smallest among the big cats, but it allowed her to get lost in the bodies running north. At first, it all seemed quiet. Magda took point, leading with an assurance that inspired everyone who followed.
Half of the snow had melted, leaving the ground a wet, muddy mess, and the conifer trees filled the air with a faint pine tang, much more obvious to an ocelot. Squirrels chattered overhead, tracking their incursion, and a fat one rained nuts down on them as he raced along various limbs overhead for a good five minutes. Hugh let out a warning rumble, and the squirrel thought better of provoking a big group of cats.
Despite the potential danger, it felt good to run after being in lockdown. The chill wind sang through her fur, carrying tales from other forest life. With great resolve, she ignored the interesting stories and kept pace with her squad. Three hours in, Pru heard the first rumble of what should be Princess Thalia’s convoy. A glance at her pride mates’ swiveling ears told her they heard it too. Magda led them off road, as there was no guarantee that this was the Eldritch royal just because it should be. Pru got that as she crouched in the underbrush, hoping that the vehicles would be moving slow enough to confirm their make; the first zoomed by, and she was 90% sure she recognized Eldritch colors and tech. Each seemed to be running a minute or so apart, not tightly clustered.
The security chief signaled with a jerk of her head that this was their target, but before they could put on some speed to commence escort duty, a massive boom from some distance off fractured the silence. Nobody needed the silent order to roll out, and when they reached the bend, Pru stumbled in shock and rammed into Hugh, who was the second smallest cat in the group. He bumped her upright as she took in the flipped, smoking lead vehicle.
Sniffing, she registered a cordite tang and with feline vision, she scoped out the wreckage of an IED at the edge of the road. Distance between it and the rest of the convoy had given the other vehicles time to stop, so the Eldritch only lost one instead of the whole, but there would be casualties. Magda shifted first and led the charge toward the flaming auto; the rest of the squad followed suit. Cold slammed into her as Pru joined the rescue effort, and shivers wracked her as she pulled a broken door off its hinges.
Holy shit, I’m strong.
She dragged a bleeding Eldritch out and hauled him off to the side of the road. Kneeling, she checked his pulse—weak and erratic—and that gash needed to be wrapped. Of course I don’t have bandages. As she sealed her palms over the wound, her pride mates pulled more casualties from the wreck. A few seconds later, it went up, and the resultant blast knocked her off the road and into the ditch beside it. Pru landed with a splash in icy, brackish water. As she scrambled out, an Eldritch warrior climbed out of the second vehicle.
“I take it this isn’t your doing?” he snapped at Magda.
While Mags wasn’t technically the highest ranking pride member present, she was the squad leader, and Pru was both unimposing and sopping wet. The others had run practice missions since they were twelve, and they shrugged off the wind chill and the goose bumps through better endurance. I’m soft, she thought, disheartened.
Hugh whispered, “Go cat. You’re not used to this.”
It stung like failure when she did so, but she immediately felt better, warmer, and she could shake off the water. Magda clearly had the situation in hand.
“Not us. Golgoth,” the tall woman said. “Maintain your distance as before, and follow us, slowly. We’ll check the road between here and the hold to make sure it’s safe.”
“We’re transporting Princess Thalia. You should have done that already,” the guard snapped.
A slim, ethereally beautiful woman with platinum hair and elfin features alit from the fourth vehicle. “Please don’t chide our allies. It’s impossible to safeguard the wilderness, as we well know. Thank you for your assistance.”
The Eldritch princess made it seem totally natural that she was surrounded by naked Animari. Her eyes remained on each warrior’s face, touching on each gaze with sincere warmth. A collective sigh rose from the Animari, and Pru would’ve laughed if she could.
Magda didn’t appear susceptible to anyone’s charms, however. “We’ll talk more at the hold, Your Highness. Let’s clear the road and move.”
After the rest of the squad shifted back, they moved as a unit. Pru had never sniffed for explosives before, but they found two more mines, five kilometers apart. It took time to remove them, and with each delay, the risk of an attack increased. The tension mounted the closer they got to the hold.
Golgoth hit them less than two klicks from Ash Valley, two full units—one armored and the other shifted. Guns and foot soldiers. It was hard not to flash on the massacre she’d watched via drone, but fear would slow her down. Yet she couldn’t consider herself invincible. Consistent, sustained wounds could kill an Animari, but unless the gun delivered a burst of sudden, catastrophic damage, she had a chance to heal. Around her, pride mates shrieked in pain, and the stink of blood thickened the air, along with gunpowder, hot metal, and electricity.
The Eldritch were using explosive rounds, and each shot boomed against the armor-plated hulls of the Golgoth land behemoths, leaving their squad to take on the shifted Golgoth, and they were massive. Not just massive. Monstrous. Pru had no idea how she was supposed to take one out, but she raced low, dodging the spray of gunfire. Hugh snarled at her and signaled for her to stay close; since they were smallest, it made sense for them to tag team. Unlike Magda, the biggest tiger in the pride, who was squaring off against a seven-foot terror with lizard eyes, protruding fangs, and a spiny ridge crawling down its back.
No, I can’t get distracted. I’m fighting as pride matron.
When Hugh leapt at a smaller Golgoth, she went with him, and there was a seamless joy in the attack. He went high; she dove low and sank her teeth into the monster’s Achilles tendon. Or she woul
d have, if it hadn’t been like biting old leather. How can such a thing exist? Grating laughter exploded above her as the Golgoth hauled back to kick. Too slow. Pru bounded away and back, seeking a softer target. She circled, aware of how enormous her opponent was, how easily he could rip her apart. But he was slow, and because of some plates, he didn’t seem to have great peripheral vision. Hugh went for the throat and almost got his skull cracked. The serval went flying, and she snarled her determination to draw blood, not that the brute understood her feline warning:
“I’ll prove myself today or die trying.”
The scout raced up to Dom, interrupting his conference with Callum, who was surprisingly well-disposed toward his work on the greenhouse. “Multiple detonations, sir. We’ve got hostiles near the hold, two klicks out and holding.”
That news couldn’t have come at a worse time, as Dom was already worried enough about Pru. “Full report, or this info’s worthless.”
“Two units of Golgoth fighting Eldritch and Animari.”
His attention sharpened so fast it practically became a weapon. “What did you say?”
“I think it’s Magda’s squad out there. Orders?”
“Rally all able-bodied warriors. Leave a skeleton crew on the walls.”
“Acknowledged, sir.”
Most likely this was a terrible decision, one he might even suffer for later, but he did not care. At the moment, he was only a man who had the power to move heaven and earth for his woman. “Anyone who’s not ready in ten minutes will be left.”
“Understood.”
The scout raced off, and Dom ran to the staging room to wait. Thirty pride members and ten of Callum’s war bears turned up, and he gave orders for the first time in forever. “We move fast, hit hard. Our objective is to wipe out the invaders and get our people to safety.”
An affirmative chorus was like music to his ears. Aware that he wasn’t thinking right, Dom still ran out because all his blood had turned to dread. If she’s not okay, if I don’t save her—those dark thoughts looped in his head. The distance melted beneath his feet, and he was dimly aware of growling protests at his punishing pace. They’ll keep up or catch up. Either way.
The battlefield burst into view, a desolation of flipped vehicles, craters in the ground, bodies everywhere, and the overwhelming stench of spilled blood. Fighting still raged in sporadic pockets, but most of the Golgoth must’ve been defeated or driven off. His people waded in with savage joy, retaliating at last. Dom charged straight at a blood-red bastard’s back; the force of his hit rocked the Golgoth forward, and Dom latched his jaws on his neck with full power. Compared to Eldritch, Golgoth blood tasted of earth and minerals, like these creatures had risen from the land itself.
Despite spinning and glancing blows from his opponent, he didn’t let go until he snapped the Golgoth’s spinal cord. The great brute wobbled and fell, freeing him to take on another. With the addition of their numbers, the tide turned swiftly. But where the hell is Pru? As he took on another, an Eldritch woman in black leather caught his eye, mostly from the silver hair, the curved blade in her left hand, and the lightning streaming from her right. Her opponent twitched, charred, and fell, then she beheaded the beast in a clean sweep.
“Mount up,” she called.
This has to be the princess. Glad she’s safe.
But his head wouldn’t stop ticking like a bomb unless he located his mate, and Dom searched exhaustively for a small, indomitable ocelot. There were corpses everywhere, but they could be Golgoth or Animari, as both reverted after death. Dom took comfort in the fact that he didn’t see her face in all this carnage. Lingering was impossible as the Eldritch loaded up their operational vehicles with wounded and resumed the trek to the hold.
In the confusion of the return, he saw so many pride mates, but he couldn’t be sure if Pru was among them. She has to be. We’re not leaving her in that clearing, no fucking way. Yet the sickness in his stomach swelled until he could hardly see or breathe or hear. Sometimes he thought he sensed her, flickers of emotion that didn’t seem to belong to him. That means she’s fine, right? When Dalena died, he felt it, not just because she was in his arms; sudden silence dropped on him then like the veil of mortality itself. Even so, Dom blanked on the time between disengaging from battle and reaching the hold. The next thing he knew, the gates loomed before him, opening with such glacial speed that he nearly snarled.
By the time the great doors shut behind them—after a fucking argument about the princess’s vehicles because they contained armaments—Dom was ready to peel his own skin off. He got changed, dressed in basic gear, and came back in time to see Magda supervising the offloading of Eldritch weapons. That’s a headache I don’t fucking need.
And he still didn’t see Pru. Enough is enough.
“Where is my fucking wife?” he roared.
Everyone in the plaza fell silent, and eventually she pressed forward out of the crowd, so liberally smeared in blood that he couldn’t tell how badly she was hurt. A shuddering breath escaped him, and he just couldn’t deal with any of the other shit right then. Slay must be around. Magda’s here. Yielding to impulse, he swept her up and carried her off.
Fuck this. Fuck all of it.
What did winning a battle matter if it meant losing her? Outrage lit him up like summer fireworks. How—just how…? She had the sense not to fight him at least, as he carried her away from the throng toward the residential annex. Dom swung into a building at random, the one the wolves had been clearing, and he found an apartment with a working door. They hadn’t fixed the keypads, but it had a lock on the inside. The interior was fairly clean; he had no idea who lived here before and cared even less. With great self-control, he set Pru down and turned the bolt.
“I killed a Golgoth,” she told him cheerfully. “More than one, if you count those I went after with Hugh. I’m blooded now. I’m proven in battle. It didn’t count before since those Noxblades weren’t actually trying to end us.”
“Are you fucking serious?” he bit out.
Backing off a step, she seemed to register his expression for the first time. “What?”
“That’s all you have to say to me? You take off without checking in, I find out from your cousin that you’re gone, and you want me to praise your martial prowess?”
A tiny frown creased her brow, attesting to the fact that she had no idea how close he was to losing his mind. “I thought you’d tell me not to go since the last op didn’t go well.”
“Yes, that’s my concern right now, your mission performance.” If sarcasm came in a bucket, he could’ve painted a ballroom with that much.
“I really don’t understand,” Pru said in a small voice. “I just wanted to prove myself.”
“Stop. You’re killing me with the assumption that you have to do something to be worthy as pride matron or even a member of Ash Valley. Listen up, because I don’t know how long I can keep it together and use my words.”
Wide-eyed, she nodded. Maybe she sensed how precarious his mood was because she danced a few steps away. Fuck. I’d never hurt you. But I might take this room apart. And that would be a shame when Raff’s wolves had worked so hard. Dom dragged in a deep breath through his nose, trying not to show how hard he was shaking, and it just sucked to scold her when all he wanted was this woman—safe and sound—in his arms.
“I’m proud of you, I am, but you left without a word, and that’s not fair. I should’ve been given the choice to support your choice and kiss you in case shit went sideways. How could I live, knowing you didn’t trust me enough to let you go?”
Her eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t think of that. I just wanted—”
“I know,” he snarled. “I know. But if you think you have to do this shit to earn me, you’re out of your mind. If you never solve another problem, never again work yourself to the brink of exhaustion, never sway another leader to our side, never slay another enemy, you’re still important and unspeakably precious. You were both of
those things before you shifted, kitten. And you always will be.”
“Dom.” She breathed his name like a prayer, and he flashed on that time on the mountain when she’d made him come saying it.
Desire swamped him until it felt like he might actually die if he didn’t touch her. In a flash, he had her in his arms. “That’s it. I’m tapped out. No more words.”
25.
Stunned, Pru held still for a few seconds. “That… we can’t… the princess—”
“Ask me if I care.” Dom’s expression made the answer clear. “Come with me.”
Despite her confusion, she still took his hand when he offered it, and then he led her to the bathroom. He didn’t speak as he peeled her clothes away, citrine eyes vivid and intense. She had the sudden urge to cover herself with her hands because Dom had never been like this before, as if the world could burn all around them, and he wouldn’t even notice. There was no boiler, so she shivered through a bewildering shower; the combination of cold water and his hot body pressing close overloaded her senses. Afterward, he swaddled them both in a blanket, and she warmed gradually with him wrapped around her.
Just like at the retreat.
“I wish I could’ve taken my time, washed every inch of you, but…”
Pru smiled. “I know. The hold’s not as well-equipped as it used to be. But we’ll rebuild. And I get that you want a few minutes alone, but they must be searching for us by now.”
“Still don’t care,” he whispered.
“You…” She lost her ability to speak when he twined the damp rope of her hair around his hand and used it to arch her throat. The sex signal… he’s sending it. When his warm lips glided over her skin, Pru lost interest in responsibility, especially when he didn’t just kiss her neck. He sucked, licked and bit, lingering until pleasure welled up like syrup from a notched maple tree. “So this is happening?”
