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I put Rachel down. She brushes herself off. “What’s happening? It’s terrible,” she says, clutching at her temples. We’re in her mind now. If I find it hard to sit by while my triad fights, I can’t imagine what she’s feeling—that the first time she has shared her mind with others, they’ve wracked her with the tension of battle. I’m used to war. She isn’t.

“They can handle themselves,” I grunt, pushing a huge barrel of wine. It’s enormous, but to my shock, it tips over, and I push it with my shoulder. Was it lighter than I thought, or did I already get stronger from the Bond?

“Something good happened,” says Rachel, her aura curious yet reserved, still filled with panic. I look over at her, surprised she could feel my excitement through my aura at finding the square outline in the ground that marks the entrance.

The Aurelian palace was demolished when Trebulous declared Independence. It was turned to rubble to make way for inferior human construction, foolish, poorly defensible spires and decadence. They never found the lower chambers, built by my species long ago, the bunkers built for orbital bombardment. There’s nothing that could defend against the Orb-Beam of a Planet Killer, but short of that, the bunkers are impregnable.

“Status.”I telepath to Ra’al, when I feel a lull in the fighting.

“The spire stands. We moved troops in and quelled the rebellion. Humans. Most died defending the batteries, but four survived. You did well to bring her out of the chaos. We suffered wounds that would have ended her.”

“I’ve brought her down to the bunkers. That is where she will live now.”

“Good.”The one-word response could have been anything and I would have brought her deeper into the castle no matter what he said after that attack, but I am glad to have Ra’al’s acceptance.

“What now?”

“We must hunt for other rebels.”

I speak the ancient phrase in High Aurelian to open the square in the ground.

Instead of the small square opening, the room rumbles. Rachel screams. I rush to her, grabbing her and throwing her aside as Kriz and Ra’al sense her terror, bombarding me with questions I ignore, ready for anything.

Slabs of armor and blast shields move aside, barrels of wine pushed aside as a spiral staircase that leads deep below reveals itself. The floor opens up, and casks of wine tumbling down the stairs. They bounce and echo, deeper and deeper.

“I can’t breathe,” groans Rachel, her voice muffled. She’s crushed against the wall against my chest, and I’ve got my arm wrapped around her, keeping my body between her and whatever trap some human could have placed if they discovered the bunkers. I move aside expecting her to run to the stairwell to see where I’m taking her. Instead, she darts around me.

“Fuck, Orr, you’re bleeding. You’ve got a metal bar in you.”

I blink a few times. I do feel slightly dizzy, but it doesn’t matter. “Down the stairs. Now.”

“You’re hurt! Look at the floor, dammit!”

I blink. One of the wine casks shattered. Red wine is dripping down the stairs. “It’s wine.”

“No, there!” She points, and I look at the trail of darker crimson. There’s a dull, deep ache in my back, and I’m heavy, but there can be no thought or weakness until she is down below.

I turn, facing her, and glare down at her. “I need to get you to safety. That is all. Now go down the stairs, or I’ll carry you down.”

“Fine.”

She goes first, but the stairs are made for Aurelians, and there’s no railing. I move forward to help, but she goes quicker, jumping down, deeper and deeper. There’s a low, warm light to this place, from a source I can’t find, even and regular as we descend. It gleams against her silver collar and bathes her naked body in the warm light that makes my cock surge up and my head spin. I check my smartwatch. Twenty minutes, and we’re at the bottom. She’s breathing heavy, and I know I should have just thrown her over my shoulder, but after the chaos of the bombardment, it’s nice to spend time with her. I nearly slip on the stairs a few times, but I keep going, following her.

We make it to the bottom of the stairs, and I look forward at the long tunnel. It has layers of metal slabs which will close up when I leave, keeping my precious mate safe.

We walk toward it. Rachel goes first, and I reap the benefit of letting her walk, watching her perfect ass rolling back and forth. There’s a hint of annoyance in her aura.

“What.”

“Is now really the time to be thinking about…that?”

“I think of you always,” I answer, licking my lips as her annoyance flares up deliciously. It’s so nice to feel emotions from her other than terror. That is the one thing I cannot stand.

I clench my fist. The ones who did this to her will pay. Four of the bastards survived. I’ll be the one to take their heads off myself.

We get to the end of the tunnel and into the secret Aurelian bunker. The ceilings are high, everything bathed in a white glow. I speak commands to the AI in High Aurelian, the tones unfamiliar on my tongue, so that the room will respond to her commands in Common—every command except for opening the tunnel to escape. She will be here until it is safe enough for her to come out.

My eyebrows rise as I look at the command panel that opens up, laying out the map of the underground stronghold. There’s a room that wasn’t on the schematics. That one, I link to my triad, and not her. Tonight, after I cast judgment on the ones who did this to her, I will show her the true meaning of being a Fated Mate to a triad.