“Poor, beautiful mate.” His voice is tender, and he sets up the blankets against a huge boulder. “Sit, sit.”
I do as he says, and the face of the boulder is a welcome heat against my back.
“All right?”
“Yes, I’m okay.” I swig from the water canteen, my eyelids sagging. “You’re right though,” I grudgingly admit. “I did need rest.”
“I know,” he says, a smug smile firmly placed.
I roll my eyes, laughing a little. The zoleh jumps into my lap, cuddling close. It’s hard to believe this bold little thing is the same one that found me in the hollow tree a week and a half ago. It’s filled out since it attached itself to me, and its fur has become glossy and fluffy.
I’m just glad the zoleh’s stinky breath has improved.
I look up to find Draz watching me, a fond smile on his face. I grin up at him, then yawn again.
“Use the pack as a pillow, and dream of me. I will return in a moment and start a fire for us.”
“That sounds nice,” I say, and do as he says. Too tired to argue, and smart enough to at least realize my body still needs as much rest as it can get.
With the zoleh clutched in my arms, and the promise of food and fire, I fall asleep quickly.
I awake shivering. Stars burn cold overhead, the sky more readily visible from this height. It’s cold.
There’s no fire.
I sit bolt upright, trembling. The zoleh cracks three eyes, then hops off my lap, circling around its tails before curling up beside me.
“Draz?” I say softly.
My heart beats erratically, painfully.
He’s not here. I glance around, but it’s full night, and out here, that means it’s dark as deep space.
I swallow hard, my breath sticking in my throat. Oh my God. He could be anywhere. He could be hurt.
I don’t want my warlord to be hurt. He could be worse than hurt.
Real fear sluices over me, and I shiver.
“Zoleh,” I say, poking the furry animal. “I need help. Draz is missing.”
It raises its head, then settles back down. Right. The little thing acts so intelligent half the time, but expecting it to sit up and bark like a rescue dog is clearly a sign I’m losing my fucking mind. Perfect.
I have to find Draz.
The good thing is, I can do this. Search and rescue was part of my training, and while it’s been a while, I’m confident that if he’s hurt somewhere, I can find him and help him.
I squeeze my eyes shut, guilt swamping me. Why did I tell him I wanted the stupid fucking berries? I should have just told him to stay with me. What the fuck was I thinking?
“Fuck,” I snarl, standing up, rooting through one of the packs. I shove a blanket in it in case he’s got some kind of alien exposure issues. The length of rope and some of our dried troblek rations follow.
“I’m going to find you Draz,” I say, determination pounding through me.
I never expected to marry a massive alien warlord, but he’s mine now.
He won’t get rid of me so easily.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
DRAZ
My head rings, and the blindfold around my eyes blunts my vision. The traitors have gone far enough to gag me.
“I can scent the human on him,” one says, speaking guttural, accented Suevan.
My suspicions were right then. With that accent, this group of separatists are from the swamplands, and they likely drove the Crigomar further into our territory to sow chaos and discord.
“She smells good,” another answers, and I thrash against the bonds tying my hands and feet. “They said she was beautiful too, for an alien. Soft and round.”
Underpopulation be damned, I am going to kill them all at the first chance I get. If I don’t, my fierce Ni-Kee will be in danger. I will not allow her to fall into their foul hands.
Shame winds through me. I never should have left her alone. I should have stayed with her. They should not have been able to sneak up on me, like the disgusting cowards they are, to knock me out from behind while I stooped to gather her beloved can-dee berries.
The bonds hold tight though, the ropes knotted in the correct way, the way we all learn as children.
“He is taken with her,” a new voice says, my translator processing the words. “They are a mated couple?”
My scales tremble at the memory this new voice stirs, and my tail goes still. That is not a Suevan voice.
“The others said that they weren’t when they found them, though she fought like a Crigomar to help him. I am curious what the human female looks like. Maybe we can go and find her for ourselves.”
A wordless roar tumbles from my mouth. I will murder them if they so much as think about my mate.
“Definitely a mated pair,” the slick, foreign voice muses, and I can hear the avid interest in it. “And you said the humans are compatible with your species? You can procreate with them?”
“That is what the researchers said,” the Suevan traitor replies. He must have intel from Lidolan. The separatists must have an asset in place there. When I get out of here, I will order a sweep.
We must remove this rotten branch, and quickly.
“Fascinating,” that cold voice says, closer now.
Come here, so I can strike you with my talons, old foe.
The Roth.
I would kill him for what his people did to my mate alone. Not to mention what his species did to her homeworld and dozens of our settlements. Death and destruction follow the Roth. There’s no negotiating with them. They are a conquering species, a species who devours.
The worst kind.
My lip curls in a snarl, and I strain against the well-tied bonds.
What has he promised the southern separatists, to goad them into this?
“Look how the warlord struggles. Draz, Draz, Draz, after what you did to my brother in the wars, tossing his spine out like so much trash, you should be thankful I haven’t pulled your intestines through your nose.”
Someone shifts, and there’s an uncertainty to it that I hone in on immediately—the way the Suevan tail lashes signals many different things, something this Roth no doubt is clueless about.
This Suevan’s tail is telegraphing unease. Whether it’s with the Roth’s threat or having me in his camp, I do not know.
But uncertainty is a poor trait in a soldier, and one I can no doubt capitalize on.
“What was it like, to degrade yourself by fucking a human female? Was it like screwing a beast?”
I growl, knowing he’s trying to enrage me, knowing it and incensed all the same.
The Roth laughs, a low, guttural sound. “They are a primitive species. You should see what they’ve done to their atmosphere, to their native flora and fauna. Atrocious. Truly, I could not believe it when I heard the mighty Sueva was treatying with them, offering them advanced technology.”
Something large crashes through the bush behind me, and a roar follows. A Crigomar and too close for comfort.
“Get it under control,” the Roth hisses, and taloned feet dig into the jungle soil, maybe three Suevans at most. “We need the element of surprise. They can’t know we’ve brought them. How many times do I have to explain it to you?”