by Cara Bristol
Under the camouflaging chaos of war, he and Anika could elude capture. But when peace reigned, they would be found.
But in the meantime, they would have this time. They could indulge in newfound mutual ecstasy.
Anika had joined him in physical rapture! He had been taught mating caused breeders intense pain—and his experiences using females in the sexual ways Protocol begrudgingly sanctioned had not discredited that promulgation.
Had he and Anika experienced something unusual? Or had alphas had claimed breeding as their sole right because of the pleasures? He had expected to feel shamed by his actions, but instead felt almost unshackled. Hungry to experience more passions of the flesh. He did not desire his usual morning beverage—but to drink again from Anika’s honeyed nectar, then to revel in the other delights of her body. His morning tumescence throbbed, heavy and achy.
Urazi rolled to wake her—and flailed his arm in empty space. Probably she had stepped into the woods to relieve herself—after the discipline he’d administered, he was confident she would heed his admonition by remaining close to camp. He stretched and then reclined with his hands behind his head to await her return.
Minutes mounted. What could she be doing? He recalled her defiant insistence on gathering more firewood. They still had a small stack even after he’d fed the flames in the night. He eyed the ashes of a fire gone cold. Why hadn’t she stirred the embers and tossed another log onto the coals before venturing into the woods?
She had been gone too long for a simple constitutional.
Urazi bolted to an upright position. What if Qalin’s guerillas had stumbled upon her? “Anika! Come here, now!” he bellowed, scanning the tree line and their makeshift camp. A lone carryall rested against the boulder. His. Hers was missing. Qalin’s forces would not have taken Anika’s pack but disregarded his. Nor would they have left him to slumber—they would have killed him in his sleep.
Anika had fled. Again.
Urazi flung off the sleep covers and riveted on the red-brown stain spotting the uniforms upon which they had slept and mated. Denial had him shaking his head until the stunning truth caught hold.
Anika had been pure, unbred. She and Jergan had never—
Had Marlix known? He must have had an inkling. No wonder he’d insisted on presenting her to Ilian. Alphas sought females who had never been mated, to assure paternity. With the Breeder Containment Facilities dismantled, finding such a female had become hit or miss. No wonder Ilian had been willing to accept her. It made sense now.
That Urazi unwittingly had usurped an Alpha’s rightful claim thrust them into greater peril. When Marlix recovered Anika and sent her to Ilian, the Alpha would discover he’d been presented with tainted goods. Serious repercussions would result. Anika might be flogged then sold to another alpha. Marlix’s alliance with Ilian would shatter.
No doubt Anika had fled because she feared retaliation. He had to find her! Urazi leaped to his feet.
Or did he assume too much?
Perhaps she had sneaked away because she did not wish to be with him? He’d presupposed she shared his regard, but perhaps she did not. Perhaps he’d also erred in his assumption she’d experienced the same passions as he.
Urazi donned his wrinkled, stained gray uniform. It was a disgrace, but he wanted to save the others he had appropriated from Qalin’s guerillas for more needful times.
Doubts rolled over memories like a regiment of Qalin’s guards storming a village: her cries, her thrashing movements, the anomalous wetness. Had he mistaken distress for pleasure? He’d lost control, had been quite forceful when he’d driven into her. He eyed the stained bedding. She’d bled. What more proof did he need of scientific fact that mating caused physical injury to females—one more reason for the limitations on sexual behavior. He fingered the stain on his shirt. He would wear it as a reminder of his brutality. Anika had suffered abuse at the hands of others—and, in his selfishness, he’d joined with the lot of them.
Urazi eyed the sleeping mats. Her discarded uniform remained atop them. So intent on getting away from him, she’d abandoned her clothing and a sleeping mat—critical survival items. He stooped and picked up her uniform, scrunching the garment in his hand. He hung his head in remorse.
He could not have worsend the situation. In self-disgust, he tossed her shift onto the mats and rolled them up.
Anika traveled alone—fair game for the worst sorts of predators. Alphas and betas alike. Urazi knew the resentments and roiling emotions betas suppressed. Hadn’t he felt them? He had witnessed his peers erupt in fits of rage at those of lesser status who could not fight back. Nor were alphas exempt from seeking revenge for grievances. Anika had narrowly escaped being used by Icor, had been duped into the supporting the enemy, and would have fallen prey to Grogan.
Urazi grabbed for his boots and heard something thunk from his pocket onto the ground. He bent and retrieved the single-starred insignia, which he’d removed from Grogan’s body.
“Halt!” A voice commanded.
From the brush emerged four armed alphas. His gut told him they had come from the guerilla camp.
If Anika had been here….
The leader of the group stepped forward, his eyes taking in the insignia. His fighting stance relaxed. “You are of Commander Qalin’s province.”
In a split second, Urazi made a decision. “I am.” He lifted his shirt and attached the ring. Treason felt heavy. Protection, he argued. I cannot help Anika if I do not stay alive.
He wished he had the daggers from his carryall. Wished the crossbow wasn’t sitting behind it. Hoped the guard would not notice the weapon was one of theirs. The knives and arrow launcher were all the weapons he had. The hut he’d thought contained munitions had been more of a strategic command center, confirming his hunch the guerillas served Qalin and not the alliance.
“Perhaps you have seen the female fugitive we seek. She is wanted for the death of an alpha guard.”
“I have seen a few females—but they traveled with males. Describe her.”
“She is dark-haired, amber-eyed. She most likely is armed with a crossbow.”
The one that rested behind his pack. He dared not look at it, and he focused on maintaining even breaths and a nonchalant bearing. If he’d had an inkling which way Anika had gone, he could have misdirected Qalin’s guards. But without knowing her destination, he feared inadvertently sending them toward her rather than away.
He blew out a huff of air. “Wish I could help you bring the fugitive to justice, but I have not seen any female matching her description.”
The leader nodded, but then a question lit his gaze as it swept over Urazi’s bloodstained shirt. Urazi remained still. Do not answer a question not asked. You will arouse suspicion.
“How did you get blood on your uniform? You do not appear to be injured.”
“The same cannot be said for the rodent I captured.”
Three males laughed, but one of them spat, his mouth curling with disgust. “Drakor.”
Disease born by drakor had caused a pandemic of deaths, resulting in famine and tribal wars that had raged until curtailed by Protocol. They were the most reviled creatures on Parseon. Could he and Anika have eaten one? Its flavor had reminded Urazi of fowl, but he had no idea what drakor actually tasted like.
His shudder of revulsion was not faked. It had been dusk, and he hadn’t gotten a good look at the rodent. He shook his head. “Not drakor,” he denied, hoping he spoke the truth.
After enjoying a laugh at his expense, the alphas turned to take their leave. Urazi had a heart-stopping moment when the leader removed his crossbow from his shoulder—but it was only to shift it to the other side. Mouth dry, Urazi asked, “What shall I do if run across the female you seek?”
“Apprehend her and bring her to one of Qalin’s outposts. You will be rewarded. A bounty of 150 gilia rests on her head.”
“So much?” He gasped. For a fortune of that size, many would join in pursuit.
> “The alpha she killed was one of Alpha Qalin’s subcommanders.”
A subcommander. What had he done? Anika hadn’t killed Grogan—he had. But she carried the bounty.
“Where is your PCD? I can transmit to you the particulars of her crimes with a complete physical description.”
By seeing his PCD, they would know he did not originate from Qalin’s province but Marlix’s. Fortunately, he did not have it. “I dropped it, and it broke.”
“No problem.” The leader drew a scroll from his pack and handed it to Urazi. “You may keep this. It contains most of the information.”
Urazi unrolled and perused the document. It listed the charges against her—murder, treason, insurrection—gave a complete physical description—and displayed a holograph of her likeness. His stomach sank further at the sight of Qalin’s seal.
“Commander Qalin issued the warrant?” he asked.
The leader nodded. “When we discovered Grogan’s body, we notified Alpha Qalin. We researched the BCF archives. The female called Anika is the offspring of Alpha Marlix’s sire. Qalin was not pleased to learn Grogan had her in custody and she had escaped. He upped the bounty that was already on her head.
Urazi bowed his head over the scroll to hide his consternation. The document identified numerous delivery outposts. Several existed in Dak’s territory.
May it not be so!
He’d been gone only a little more than a month! His head shot up. “How is it there are outposts in the fifth province?”
The leader arched his eyebrows. “Have you not heard? Alpha Dak’s territory has fallen to the superior might of Commander Qalin. Marlix and Ilian will be next. Alphas Qalin and Artom are winning the war.” He snapped a salute. “Glory to Commander Qalin!”
“Glory to Commander Qalin!” the others shouted.
“Glory to Commander Qalin,” Urazi deadpanned.
Chapter Nine
Oh, Urazi.
The weight on Anika’s heart felt as heavy as Tara’s clunky boots as she trudged along the road. Eight days had passed since she’d sneaked away while Urazi slept. She’d known from the moment he’d appeared in the guerilla camp she would have to leave him. The evening they’d made camp, she had brewed him a tea from a sleeping herb then seduced him to ensure he would fall into a deep slumber.
But she had not expected to find such bliss in the act. Or feel so bonded to him afterwards. Leaving him hurt as if a bolt from the crossbow had discharged into her chest. She’d left the weapon for him because a female with a crossbow would attract too much attention. Circumstances also had forced her to abandon her sleeping mat, for yanking on it would have awakened Urazi. Presented with the opportunity to escape, she had to take it. Who knew if she would get another chance—or if enough of her dwindling willpower would remain to enable her to do so. The longer she spent in his company, the harder leaving became.
Had she made the right choice? The question dogged her day and night, while the answer eluded her. Perhaps she could have convinced Urazi not to drag her back to Marlix and Ilian. Perhaps his regard had grown enough that he had changed his mind.
Though she reminded herself she’d fought too hard for liberty to gamble with it now, caution had proven to be a frosty companion. Her sagging spirits and the cold seeping through the single sleep covering she’d managed to grab would not allow her to slumber, despite exhaustion. She remained wide-eyed throughout most of the night, arising achy and stiff each morning.
Anika scrubbed her eyes, scratchy from lack of sleep and the colored lenses she’d inserted to transform her irises from amber to blue. Using Jergan’s dagger, she’d shorn her hair short like an alpha’s. She’d considered using Tara’s bleeech to modify the color, but as no Parseon had pale hair, she worried the unusual hue would draw unwanted attention. Instead of her shift, she’d donned a male uniform she’d taken from the guerilla camp for Urazi. It never would have fit him anyway—though, on her, it sagged, and she’d had to roll up the legs and sleeves. She’d torn her shifts into strips with which she’d bound her breasts for added assurance she could pass as a young alpha.
She realized belatedly that, in male dress, she could have carried the crossbow—but the idea for the costume did not occur to her until two days into her solo journey.
The disguise would not fool Urazi—but at least the guards from the camp would not recognize her—not from a distance, anyway. And perhaps she would escape the attention of alphas and betas who would prey on a lone female.
In male uniform, she discovered greater freedom of movement; she could march unhampered by a skirt twisting between her legs. Breast binding allowed her to run faster because she was unimpeded by the tug and sway of her mammary glands. Cloaked in male attire, her stride lengthened, she stood taller, and she held her head higher. What a difference a simple change in uniform made!
When warmer weather came, she would revert to the chest-baring uniform. End of ruse. And as soon as the war ended, Marlix would retrieve her and send her to Ilian. End of freedom.
But no one could revoke the memories of autonomy—nor of reaching the pinnacle of pleasure with Urazi. Ilian would mate with her, but she would imagine Urazi’s touch, his manhood filling her.
A temblor shook the ground, and Anika whipped around to spy several large conveyances hurtling toward her. She stepped off the road to allow the caravan to pass, but the driver of the head vehicle emitted a piercing whistle and halted the convoy abreast of her. Two males—an alpha and a beta—drove each vehicle, except for the third, which was attended by a single beta. However, the cargo enclosed in portable cells drew her attention and evoked a frantic beat of fear. At least two dozen females, she estimated. About eight per conveyance.
Had her disguise failed? Had the convoy halted so she could be tossed into the cages with the others? She might have been able to ward off capture with a crossbow, but against five males, a dagger was like having no weapon at all.
Do not panic. You do not know what this is about. If they had intended to take you as part of the sweep, they would have acted by now.
She schooled her features into mild curiosity when the alpha driving the lead transport handed the reins to the beta and alighted. “Honor to Commander Qalin and to the brave!”
Her heart thudded, despite the cordial greeting. “Honor to the brave…and Commander Qalin,” she parroted, deepening her voice.
It was the right thing to say, because he responded more informally, “Kianiko. I am Perce.”
“Kianiko. I am An—” She caught herself in time. “I am Anjot.”
Perce eyed her dusty, battered carryall. “You appear as though you have been traveling for a while.”
“Since before the last trey moon,” she said.
“Then you have seen much.”
He didn’t know the half of it. “I have.”
“I wonder if you have news of a dangerous female fugitive we seek.”
Anika flicked her gaze to the huddle of females. Either they were resigned to their fate or they were too terrified to express curiosity. She shivered. Had she ever been so docile? So complacent? So unquestioning? What crimes could they have committed?
Remember, you are alpha. Though her knees trembled, she lifted her chin and said in a bold tone, “Are all these females fugitives?”
Perce shook his head. “None, as far as I know, but as we seek the female called Anika, I am under orders to conscript unclaimed females for breeding.”
The mention of her name startled her, but more unnerving was that so many of her gender had been taken into custody. Commander Dak had abolished the Breeder Containment Facility. It did not make sense he would reverse his actions.
“By whose orders?” she asked.
“Commander Qalin.”
“Alpha Qalin?” She cocked her head and frowned. “Have I strayed in my journey? Am I not in Commander Dak’s province?”
“Nay,” Perce shook his head and grinned. “This is Alpha Qalin’s now—the Comman
der has seized Dak’s province as his own.”
In her avoidance of people, Anika had been cut off from town heralds, but how could something so cataclysmic have happened without her knowledge? An eddy of ramifications spun. Dak would not have surrendered. Never. No Commander would have. The war among the Alphas was a fight to the death.
“I did not hear the village bells peal,” she said weakly.
“When Dak’s province fell to Commander Qalin, so did Dak’s status. No bells would ring to announce the death of a nobody.”
“And what of Alpha Marlix? Commander Ilian?” The band binding her chest tightened. Dak was dead. Could Marlix and Ilian hold out?
“They have not fallen yet. But Alpha Qalin’s victory is assured. The brave and honorable shall reap their rewards.”
Anika wanted to sink to her knees and weep in despair. The alliance was losing! Without Dak, Marlix and Ilian would find it more difficult to fight the relentless force of Qalin-Artom.
Without Dak, how would Omra and their two offspring, Miri and Berik, survive?
“H-have you heard what had happened to Alp-Dak’s breeder and his two offspring?”
Perce shrugged. “I have not heard, but I assume if they’d been captured, the females were delivered to Alpha Qalin’s domicile for breeding, and the males were executed.”
Little Berik with his innocent toothless grin was dead? “But he is a child. A baby!”
“One does not allow the heirs of the fallen to survive, lest they seek vengeance.” He gave her a queer look.
Anika balled her fists, hatred for Qalin overshadowing all care, all fear. Before she could decide what to do, the alpha unclipped his PCD, tapped into it, and turned the screen toward her. “This is the female who is wanted for crimes against Parseon.”
Anika stared at her own face—her cheekbones, her chin, the jut of her nose, the curve of her brows, the shape of her mouth. Despite her new eye color and hair length, she still resembled the female on the PCD. She peeked at Perce. No recognition there.
