Page 47

FIELD MISSION

Aria POV

The mountain airbites at my face as we climb higher into the disputed territory. Five feline scouts move through the underbrush ahead of me, barely making a sound or leaving footprints on the damp ground. Lieutenant Thorne takes up the rear, his black fur occasionally catching the sunlight filtering through the thick trees.

My claiming mark throbs against my throat, a ghostly reminder of Fritz's teeth. He hadn't wanted to authorize this mission—I could tell from his stiff shoulders, the angry lashing of his tail, and the subtle growl under his final instructions. But he'd given in because he had to. These observation posts were too important, even though his protective instincts were getting harder for him to ignore.

"The main path curves west here," I tell Thorne quietly, veering off the visible trail toward a nearly invisible gap between two huge boulders. "But the dragons would expect watchers on the obvious route. This passage gives us better coverage."

I squeeze my body through the narrow opening, rough stone scraping against my sides. The path beyond isn't on any officialmap—it's one of dozens of secret routes I'd memorized during my years guiding traders through these contested mountains. The knowledge that once represented my escape plan now helps fortress defense. The irony isn't lost on me.

"Scent markers," Thorne says quietly, his nose flaring as he follows me through the gap. "Dragons have passed through here recently."

A chill that has nothing to do with the cold air slides down my spine. "How recently?"

"Three days, maybe four." His yellow eyes narrow in concentration, his missing ear twitching slightly. "A scouting party, not a full patrol. Three, maybe four individuals."

The precision of his assessment reminds me how alien these Primes really are beneath their somewhat human appearances. His senses work on levels mine can't even comprehend, picking up information from the environment that my human limitations can't detect.

We continue in tense silence, moving steadily higher along trails not meant for easy travel. My muscles burn with the effort, but I push through the pain. I can't show weakness, not when I insisted I was necessary for this mission. Not when Fritz's reluctant trust depends on me proving I can handle it.

By mid-afternoon, we've identified three good observation points—small caverns with narrow viewing slits overlooking key dragon approach routes. The scouts set up basic communications equipment at each location—reflective metal panels for daylight signaling, specialized lamps for night warnings.

"We should reach the northern overlook before sunset," I tell Thorne as we finish securing the third position. "There's a sheltered valley nearby perfect for overnight camp."

He nods, his expression giving away nothing of the fatigue that must be affecting even his enhanced body. "The weather's turning. Storm moving in from the western peaks."

I glance at the horizon, noticing the dark clouds gathering over the distant mountains. My weather sense isn't bad, but I'd completely missed the signs his feline instincts picked up easily. Another reminder of the differences between us.

"The valley has cave systems," I assure him. "We'll have shelter if it hits before dawn."

The northern overlook proves perfect for our purposes—a narrow ledge hidden by thick vegetation with clear views of three major dragon approach routes. From this spot, fortress scouts could provide almost thirty minutes of early warning for any significant dragon movement.

"Almost a perfect position," Thorne acknowledges as the scouts begin setting up the final observation equipment. "You've done well, Omega Copenhagen."

The formal title—neither disrespectful nor particularly warm—highlights the strange position I occupy in the fortress hierarchy. Not quite soldier, not merely claimed omega, but something undefined that sits between multiple categories.

"We should head down to the valley," I suggest as the first distant rumble of thunder reaches us. "That storm's moving faster than expected."

By the time we reach the valley floor, fat raindrops have already started falling, quickly turning into a full downpour that makes it hard to see more than a few feet ahead. Lightning splits the dark sky, lighting up the landscape in stark detail before plunging it back into darkness.

"There!" I shout over the howling wind, pointing toward a dark opening in the cliff face. "The main cave entrance!"

We sprint the remaining distance, water streaming down our faces and bodies. The cave mouth suddenly appears before us,a black void cut into gray stone. I duck inside, the sudden shift from howling storm to enclosed silence almost disorienting.

"Everyone accounted for?" Thorne demands, doing a quick headcount as the scouts file in behind us.

"All present," confirms a young feline with leopard-like markings. "No pursuit detected."

The cave goes deeper than the entrance suggests, narrowing into a passage that leads to a larger chamber. Glowing moss clings to the damp walls, providing just enough light to see by. The scouts move confidently through the darkness, their night vision needing no extra light.

"We'll set up here," Thorne decides when we reach the inner chamber. "Defensive positions at the narrow point. Krill, first watch."

The cave protects us from the storm but forces us into close quarters that makes my skin prickle with awareness. Six feline alphas in an enclosed space, their natural musk intensified by rain and exertion. My omega biology registers their presence in a way I can't fully suppress, despite Fritz's claiming mark.

I settle against the far wall, trying to create what distance the limited space allows. Though I've worked with these scouts for weeks now, we've never been confined together in such tight quarters. The subtle changes in their scents as they notice my discomfort trigger an instinctive unease I haven't felt since my early days at the fortress.

"Rations," Thorne announces, handing out preserved meat and hardtack from his pack. The normal activity breaks some of the tension, giving everyone something to focus on besides our uncomfortable proximity.