by Cara Bristol
Zala scrambled inside.
Urazi sauntered over. “Problem?”
Anika wanted to curl up and cry over what she’d done. Striking Zala bothered her more than killing Icor. She lifted her chin. “No problem.”
* * * *
Two weeks later
Anika sat straight and stoic to conceal her discomfort as the wagon transport rocked along the rutted road. When the war ended and skytram service resumed, she vowed never to travel by conveyance again. The hard wooden seat exacerbated each jolt, and her bones registered every one with acute sensitivity. She ached from shoulders to legs, and particularly her buttocks. It was worse for the females who had no seat to grab hold of, to brace against. The only thing to keep them from being tossed to and fro was that so many were packed inside.
In the two weeks since they had left Icor’s camp, the convoy had picked up another dozen breeders, bringing the total to thirty-seven.
To break the monotony and spell the single individual who would otherwise have to drive solo the entire distance to Province One, they rotated personnel. She’d traveled with Perce on several occasions. Though he’d been genial and the time passed without incident, by the end of those days, her stomach had churned like a river after heavy rains. Now that she knew he was Qalin’s son, she could not forget his temper—nor the consequences if Zala revealed her suspicions. She took utmost care to ensure that Zala was never placed in the same conveyance as Perce.
Today, Urazi rode with her, and she relaxed. Or could have, if not for the bumpy ride. The conveyance rolled over a rock, and a sharp pain shot through her. She gritted her teeth. Pain is of no consequences. Ignore it. “Rations are running low,” she commented to Urazi.
“Yes, but we will arrive at Commander Qalin’s province before much longer.” His voice rumbled just above the clack of the conveyance.
“Two more days.” With dread, she ticked off the passage of time. I must be strong. She doubted that warriors facing battle were as fearful as she. “Have you ever visited Commander Qalin’s province?”
“No. The farthest east I have been is Loraq.” He sighed. “I traveled with Marlix. He attended a High Council meeting, and, afterwards, we enjoyed a respite.”
Anika slumped. “I wish I could have seen Loraq before the war.” She’d looked forward to seeing the capital city. She’d heard about its magnificence all her life—marbled government edifices with carved friezes atop stalwart columns; larger-than-life statuary of all the Alphas of Parseon, dating back to the first ones; and fountains that spouted water high into the air.
She could only imagine how it had looked—because all of it had been destroyed. She’d sat on the edge of her seat as they had rolled toward the city—and then her jaw had dropped to the floorboards at the ruination. Marble and stone crushed and crumbled. Anything constructed of wood had been set ablaze—and small fires had continued to burn as they’d driven through blackened streets. Denizens had swarmed over the ruins, scavenging for anything of value. And, everywhere, Qalin’s flags had flapped in the smoky air.
“It was the grandest city in all of Parseon.” Urazi stared straight ahead. Determination glinted in his eyes. “I promise you. Marlix, Ilian, and Dak will rebuild.”
“Dak is dead.”
“Propaganda.”
She wished it so—but she could not shrink from the truth. Anika laid her palm over her heart. “I feel it.”
“Because Perce said so?”
“He is the son of Qalin and is privy to confidential information,” she pointed out.
“He is a mental deficient.”
She’d witnessed emotional volatility, but he seemed to be intelligent enough. “Why do you say that?”
“A one-eyed half-wit could see you are no male,” Urazi said, keeping his voice low, even though the thunder of hooves muffled their conversation.
Self-conscious, Anika moved to tuck her hair behind her ear then dropped her hand in her lap. She’d hacked off the length to appear alpha. “That is because you know me.” And had personal knowledge of what lay underneath the uniform.
“Icor recognized you.”
The conveyance hit a bump, and Anika grabbed the seat’s edge to avoid being tossed into Urazi. He held the reins capably in one hand, the other resting casually on the sidewall. He sat as straight as an alpha in command, as if he led the convoy and had not finagled his way in. No one would guess he was beta—she would not had she not known he’d once served Marlix as his anointed partner.
“Icor and I had had prior contact,” Anika said.
“Which does not disprove my point.” Urazi almost sounded amused.
She cocked her head, amazed they could so amicably disagree, batting assertions back and forth as if argument were a game played by equals. Perhaps Urazi’s opinion had been swayed by the alpha uniform and her affected brusque manner. For sure, he treated her with greater respect now. She reveled in her newly bestowed status, and yet, below the surface of the heady satisfaction, an undercurrent of loss and disappointment tugged at her. She sought respect and honor, yes, but she was loath to jettison her femaleness to get it. “What is your point?” she asked him.
“That any male who cannot recognize beauty lacks discernment,” he said.
Anika’s jaw dropped.
Gray eyes radiated appreciation.
A flush spread from her neck upwards, beating the chill from the air. “Beauty matters little in comparison to courage and honor.” She dismissed his flattery.
“It matters to me,” he replied. “And you have all three.”
“Y-you think I am courageous? Honorable?” Beautiful?
“I do. You have shown me more about what your gender is capable of than I ever realized.”
Had she been driving the conveyance, she would have run it off the road. But Urazi managed to stay its course. “I wanted you to know that,” he added.
Oddly, she felt like crying. She pressed her tongue to her upper palate to stave off tears. When she regained control, she asked, “Why?”
“Because when we enter Qalin’s province we will face greater danger. There is a chance one or both of us will not survive. But if I can prevent harm from befalling you, I will. Nor will I allow you to jeopardize yourself. You should not view curtailment of your participation as a negative assessment of your capabilities.”
“But if I am brave and capable of defending myself then why should you intervene?”
“Because,” he said, and placed his hand on the bench so that his baby finger brushed hers. The simple contact jolted her clear down to that place between her legs.
“Because is no answer,” she argued because she could, and because she understood very well. She curled her little finger over his.
Because.
An onlooker could be excused for confusing her with a mental deficient due to the inane way she grinned as they rode along.
ANIKA’S SMILE GLADDENED Urazi and fortified his determination to protect her. He wanted her to always be happy. He wished he could grab her, throw her over his shoulder, and hide her until the crisis passed. But it would not pass until Marlix and Ilian defeated Qalin or the Alpha had conquered every province of Parseon including the third one belonging to his ally. Urazi did not doubt Qalin would betray Artom when he no longer needed him.
The devastation of Loraq had proven that. Once, the capital of Parseon had offered a neutral meeting ground where aggressive Alphas could lay down their weapons, set aside provincial concerns, and collaborate for the good of their race. Urazi had hoped to convince Anika to accept refuge there, but its destruction eliminated that option.
So…they moved forward. But to do…what? Devising a plan proved challenging when he couldn’t foresee what they would encounter. Military strategy hadn’t been included in his beta training. Diplomacy? Yes. Food preparation? Yes. The fine points of Protocol? Assuredly.
But for Marlix, Urazi would not have learned how to defend himself. The Alpha had insisted on martial train
ing when Urazi was anointed as his beta. “There are those who may attack you to injure me,” Marlix had explained.
Despite the lessons, Urazi had failed miserably in the woods when Qalin’s guards attacked Tara and Anika. He had dispatched Grogan, but since he’d caught the alpha unawares, that hardly counted. He worried how he would fare in a real battle, and he wanted Anika nowhere near when it occurred.
Urazi studied their hands in juxtaposition, hers small and delicate, but reddened from the cold. He would warm her, if he could, but he’d placed his hand as close to hers as he dared. Only alpha-beta pairings were permitted any physical or emotional closeness—and never in public. Displays of affection elicited caustic ridicule, for it was well known soft emotion weakened a male.
He studied Anika, sitting so straight and tall. Like her hands, her shoulders, arms, and ankles were delicate. It astounded him these stupid males couldn’t see her for what she was. The alpha uniform enhanced rather than hid her female attributes, outlining her curves. What male had such shapely thighs? Such pert, rounded buttocks? When she strolled in front of him, hips swaying with every step, the urge to grab a moon in each hand tested his willpower. He was thankful for the blindness of the other males, for it kept her safe.
Last in the caravan, they ate the dust the other two conveyances stirred, but it afforded them a measure of privacy. He might have risked holding her hand if not for the scrutiny of the females behind them. Once, he’d considered breeders invisible, but after knowing Anika, and Tara, he’d learned they were as sharp-eyed and keen-witted as any male.
Over the clack and rattle of the vehicle, the females could not hear, but they could observe. He glanced behind him, assessing the location of the one with whom Anika had had an altercation. She was farthest away. Good.
He drew his brows together. Anika had never explained what had incited the quarrel. “What happened between you and that female?”
“Zala? She saw me leave Icor’s camp, and suspects I had something to do with the disappearance of Icor, Faja, and Wolak. She threatened to tell Perce.”
“Monto!” he swore. Guilt smote him. He’d dispatched Faja and Wolak. He’d given impetus to the hunt for Anika by killing Grogan. In his attempts to protect her, he’d imperiled her!
“Perhaps I should have let Perce kill her,” Anika mused, then clapped a hand over her mouth. “No, that is a terrible thing to say. I do not like how I have succumbed to violent urges.”
“It makes you a more credible alpha,” Urazi said.
“But I feel”—she twisted her hands—“diminished by it.”
“Do you regret killing Icor?”
“No, and isn’t that the problem? Shouldn’t I feel bad for taking the life of another?”
“When he would have killed you first?” Urazi shook his head. “One should not regret one’s survival instinct. Nor should one allow despots to dictate what life should be.”
“Like Qalin.”
“Like Qalin,” he agreed grimly. “Why did Perce threaten to kill Zala?”
“Because he noticed she and I—well, me as I used to look—share a strong resemblance, and he wanted a body as evidence of Anika’s death.”
“Qalin is not so gullible to accept that without genetic verification.”
“That is what I told him.” Anika rubbed a hand over her face.
The bruises from Icor’s beating had faded, leaving her skin unblemished and as smooth as flower petals. Urazi ached to touch her. They’d only been able to engage in one other hurried, frantic coupling since he’d joined the convoy. He longed for the day when he could take her with leisure, when she would be free to express her ecstasy with loud cries…. Urazi shifted on the bench.
“I still cannot believe our misfortune that Perce is Qalin’s son,” Anika said glumly.
The Alpha’s name functioned as an icy blast, but Urazi tried to lighten the mood. “If we did not have misfortune, we would not have any fortune.”
Her giggle transmitted a spiral of heat into his loins. Parseons by nature were a sober race, not prone to merriment. Children laughed, of course, but soon learned the inappropriateness of such behavior or risked the lash. An unfettered expression of joy or humor occurred rarely, and it was odder still that a laugh would evoke concupiscence. But then, everything Anika did affected him thusly— the way she licked her lips when she ate, how she tilted her head, when she planted her fists on her hips and glared him in obstinacy. Especially then.
Urazi forced himself to focus. Though they faced uncertainty, they needed to prepare themselves. “Perce’s paternity presents a threat, to be sure, but also a greater opportunity,” he said.
“I understand the threat, but I do not see the opportunity.” Anika peered at him. “Do you weary of guiding the beasts yet?”
Under normal circumstance driving the conveyance did not require physical strength, only alertness to keep the animals on the road and guide them around obstacles. However, if the beasts scented a dam, no bit or bridle could prevent them from charging. Even an Alpha’s strength could not restrain a beast under such conditions. Fortunately, mating season had passed.
At least for the beasts.
Urazi’s nostrils flared as he inhaled Anika’s scent. Like flowers after a rain. And between her legs? He stifled a groan. The sweetest musk he’d ever known.
He passed the reins before he lost concentration and crashed the conveyance. Their fingers brushed, and he surrendered to the urge to hold her hand for a second. Her tiny gasp of awareness caused him to suck in a lungful of air. He pictured them exchanging the reins back and forth so they could touch. A dangerous game. One of them would drive the beasts into an icy river or into a mountainside. He gripped the edge of the seat.
“And what of the opportunity?” she asked.
“Opportunity?” He blinked.
“You were talking about Perce.”
Urazi frowned. He did not recall.
“Being Qalin’s son?” she prompted.
Of course. Such was the depth of his preoccupation, he could not remember what he said from one moment to the next. “As Qalin’s son, he is a member of the Alpha’s inner circle. Perce’s acceptance of us may bring us closer to Qalin.”
She shuddered—a typical reaction to the Alpha. A glimpse of his malevolent visage sent alphas fleeing in terror. Sires used his name to motivate their sons to excellence. “If you fail in your training, I will send you to serve Qalin,” Urazi’s own sire used to say. When small children told tales of monsters to frighten each other, it was Qalin’s name they evoked.
“We shall not hide,” she murmured.
“No.” To duck into the dark corners of Qalin’s province while the Alpha rampaged through Parseon would serve neither honor nor self-interest. There would be nothing to return to when the war ended. They—he, for he would not permit Anika to fight—had a chance to alter the course of the war. Perhaps end it. But at a grave cost.
Sacrifice of the one for the benefit of the many.
Anika met his eyes. “We are going to kill Qalin.” A statement. They thought along similar lines, except for one thing.
“Not us. Me,” Urazi said.
“You cannot fight Qalin alone. You will need help.”
Help? He doubted an entire guard force would be sufficient. It hadn’t been for Commander Dak. And for a lone beta with nothing but determination and a dagger? Suicide. Even if he managed to get within striking range, odds of victory were almost nonexistent. The Alpha would be guarded, fortified. If Urazi did succeed in mortally wounding him, his guards would put an abrupt end to Urazi’s life. Or would torture him.
Anika wouldn’t like what he had to say, but she needed to face the truth. “If”—when— “I die, you must return to Marlix or to Ilian for protection.”
“You are not going to die, and I would never go to Ilian.”
“You must.” How could he do what he needed to if, in the end, she was not safe?
“I won’t!”
&nbs
p; Temper erupted out of fear, frustration. “You will do it, or I will administer the sudon to your bare buttocks.”
“You do not have a sudon. And how are you going to do it if you’re dead?”
Her taunting, irrefutable logic increased his fury. “I will spank you beforehand then.”
“I would like to see you try!” Her chin jutted out. Her challenge goaded him to kiss the brazenness off her face before stripping a switch from a denuded tree.
Let her think she had won the argument. The discipline, when it occurred, would be that much more satisfying. Urazi stared into her challenging eyes for a moment longer, and then dropped his gaze as if he conceded the battle.
A smirk twitched at the corner of her mouth.
He smothered a grin of anticipation. Just you wait, little one. Just you wait.
Chapter Fourteen
Two days later
A cachinna alighted atop the front wall of the conveyance, bobbing its head from side to side as if studying them through its reflective eyes. In a debate over which creature was more repulsive—cachinna or drakor—one could make a good argument for the disgusting insect. Along the harrowing mountain road, they’d encountered several, though none as audacious as this one.
Urazi lifted his foot and aimed his boot at the carrion beetle, but it flew away with a cachinnating buzz before he could crush it.
“Missed!” he said. “Just as well. We would have smelled it the rest of the journey.”
Anika wrinkled her nose and nodded.
The beetles grew large, about double the size of an acca nut, and, when smashed, they emitted a rank odor much like the sickening-sweet smell of the rotting flesh they consumed.
“I hate those things.” Anika’s mouth turned downward. “I do not like to think about those insects feeding on my body after I am dead.”
“Agreed.”
The conveyance squeaked and groaned as the huffing beasts pulled it up the steep grade, the mountain’s edge only meters to the left of their wheels. Deep in the canyon below—too far to even see—an icy river flowed. He shifted on the seat, itching to assume control of the reins. Anika handled them competently, but that did little to soothe his fear of plunging into the abyss or facing what existed on the other side of the mountain.
