Page 26 of Alokar (The Alliance Rescue #2)

Ewok

Despite the time and rain that had passed, I still caught a faint trace of Duke Ako and Helene’s scent lingering in the air. Enough to lead me to the north face of Skadulgwas Peak, through the forest, and to the small rent in the earth where they had been able to escape the cave below.

I climbed inside, my claws finding purchase on the slick stone walls, careful of my footing as loose pebbles skittered into the abyss.

Impenetrable shadow swallowed the cavern below, but I could still hear the wash of deep waters flooding its depths.

A musty, damp, slightly moldy smell clung to the stagnant air, but not a hint of Yaard’s distinctive musk, either alive or dead.

And for the first time since setting foot on Earth, the idea that I might fail in my mission—might not be able to bring back proof of Yaard’s demise—didn’t fill me with the crushing weight of failure.

Not as much as the soul-deep anguish that tormented every fiber of my being at the thought of leaving Hannah behind.

She was my mate. I was sure of it with every instinct I possessed.

Just as sure that, like Duke Ako before me, I would have to abandon her to the safety of her own world.

The universe was a treacherous, unforgiving place for human females.

It would be even more perilous for Hannah.

While many Kerzak adopted the peaceful ways my sister and I wanted for our kind, others, like Yaard, viewed humans as little more than livestock to consume or enslave.

Others who would revolt at the very notion of the Kerzak king taking a human mate.

As much as every cell in my body craved Hannah, my duty was to be king.

Ancient Kerzak law demanded it with an ironclad tradition spanning millennia.

Females could only serve as regents on the throne, never as a true queen—even though my sister Vienda possessed the strategic mind and compassionate heart that would make her a far superior ruler than I could ever hope to be.

I would return to my people and take my place on the throne, though it was the last thing my heart desired.

I wondered how long it would take before my advisors began the relentless call for an heir, presenting female after female to me for me to select a mate. A mate I would never want or love... not like how I felt about Hannah.

She’d insisted on driving me as close to the site as possible in her weathered pickup truck, its faded blue paint chipped and scarred from years of navigating the unforgiving mountain roads.

Taking me as far from the dig site as possible, Hannah instructed me on which paths would keep me out of sight of other humans, so I could keep the cuddwisg device deactivated for as long as possible.

She’d kissed me goodbye, the tender press of her soft lips against mine becoming a familiar ritual that sent warmth cascading through my chest. The taste of her morning coffee still lingered on her mouth, mixed with something uniquely Hannah that always made my pulse quicken.

I’d insisted she not accompany me on this part of my quest. Whether I discovered Yaard’s corpse or faced him alive, the encounter would be brutal, and I wanted to shield her from that.

It had taken considerable persuasion, but Hannah had finally agreed to drive to the nearby town of Redmond.

She would gather supplies and visit her friend Stella while I prowled through the forest, searching for any trace of Yaard’s presence.

I hauled myself up through the narrow cave opening, my lungs greedily drinking in great gulps of fresh mountain air after the stifling mustiness below.

The mixed scents of the human archaeological team working at the mountain’s base immediately assaulted my nostrils—a cloying mix of nervous sweat, cheap deodorant, and artificial perfume made my nose wrinkle in distaste.

A small pack of wolves prowled the valley’s edge in the distance, curious but wary, instinctively keeping their distance from both the human activity and my alien scent.

And then there was the grizzly.

The putrid stench of decay clung to the poor creature, so thick and overwhelming that it made my stomach churn with revulsion.

I should track the wounded beast down and grant it the mercy of a swift death.

I could only imagine the excruciating torment of trying to survive with such a wound slowly poisoning its massive body.

Not to mention that in killing Rodney, the creature had tasted human flesh—a dangerous appetite I couldn’t allow it to explore further.

Perhaps I could suggest one last hunt to Hannah, tracking down the grizzly together.

One last opportunity for us to spend time together before I returned to the Historia .

I could spare a few more days on Earth. A handful of stolen moments before I had to tear my heart from my chest and say goodbye to her forever.

I began my descent down the mountain toward the narrow dirt road where Hannah and I had arranged to meet, although I didn’t expect her for several hours yet. Perhaps I could use the time to track the wounded grizzly, pinpointing its habitat so we could hunt it more easily.

I savored my steps as I strode through the pines, the thick layer of fallen needles and leaves soft and springy beneath my feet.

I would miss the wild beauty of this place.

The forest stretched endlessly in every direction.

Towering pines formed a dense canopy overhead, their interwoven branches filtering the sunlight into dancing patterns of gold and shadow on the forest floor.

The air hung thick and humid, heavy with the rich scent of loam, wild honeysuckle, and the sweet decay of fallen logs slowly returning to earth.

Somewhere in the distance, a woodpecker’s rhythmic hammering echoed through the trees, punctuated by the occasional rustle of some small creature moving through the undergrowth.

Every breath carried the essence of growing things—moss on bark, wild berries ripening unseen, and the scents of dozens of creatures, big and small, that called this place home.

But most of all, I would miss Hannah with an ache that already threatened to hollow out my chest. The adorable way her nose crinkled when she laughed.

How her right eyebrow would arch with stubborn defiance whenever something displeased her.

The musical sound of her laughter echoing through the trees, and, goddess help me, her intoxicating scent that made my blood sing with desperate longing.

I looked forward to tonight when I could once again spend hours worshiping her body. I would map every inch of her soft skin with my lips and hands, burning each kiss and touch into my memory to sustain me through the endless lonely nights that awaited me on the throne.

The sun had moved past its zenith when the familiar rumble of Hannah’s truck engine reached my ears, accompanied by that distinctive metallic whining she’d explained was something called a loose ball bearing.

Even from over a mile away, the sound made my heart leap with anticipation.

A broad grin split my face as I engaged the cuddwisg device, not wanting to risk another human catching sight of my true form.

I emerged from the thick underbrush into a grove where massive pine trunks soared toward the sky, the dense canopy blocking most sunlight and preventing undergrowth from taking root.

The moment I stepped into the clearing, I jerked to an abrupt halt.

The nauseating stench of the injured grizzly hit me like a physical blow, so concentrated and overwhelming it nearly made me gag.

Too close. Far too close.

Panic clawed at my chest as I broke into a sprint, my ears picking up the sound of Hannah’s truck engine cutting off and her sweet voice calling my name. Despite my worry, her voice still coaxed a smile from my lips.

Then she screamed.

I tore through the forest like a creature possessed, my powerful legs devouring the distance as branches whipped against my face and thorns raked furrows through my fur.

The stench of decay grew thicker with each thundering heartbeat, coating my throat like poison.

Terror clawed at my chest with razor-sharp talons—the bone-deep fear of losing the one being who had become my entire universe.

I burst onto the narrow dirt road, immediately taken with the stillness that seemed to settle over the landscape.

The truck sat in silence, its weathered blue paint gleaming dully in the filtered sunlight.

At first glance, it appeared untouched—until I rounded to the driver’s side and my blood turned to ice in my veins.

Deep, savage gouges had rent the metal like paper with such brutal force that twisted shards of steel curled outward like metallic petals.

“Hannah!” My voice erupted from my throat in a raw, desperate bellow that sent birds exploding from the treetops in a panicked flutter of wings. The forest swallowed my cry, offering nothing but the mocking whisper of wind in return.

Her rifle lay abandoned on the faded cloth seat, its barrel pointing at an unnatural angle as though she’d been struggling to bring it to bear when something had seized her.

The sight of it—her last desperate attempt at defense—sent waves of nausea crashing through my gut, followed immediately by a rage so pure it threatened to consume my sanity.

A few feet from the truck, a clump of matted fur caught my eye.

I approached it, fingers trembling slightly as I pulled it from the dirt.

Dried blood and chunks of putrefying flesh caked the fur, the stench so overwhelming that bile rose in my throat.

Still, I forced myself to lift the revolting mass to my nose, my nostrils flaring as I drew in a deep, analyzing breath.

The reek of decay crashed over me, but underneath that putrid mask—just the faintest whisper of another scent—one that froze my very soul with terror.

Yaard.

The realization hit me like a physical blow. Fuck! How could I have been so catastrophically stupid?

The festering trail I’d been following through the forest had never belonged to an injured grizzly.

It was Yaard using the rotting carcass of some poor beast to mask his own distinctive scent.

He’d been stalking us like prey, while I’d stumbled through the wilderness like a fool, completely oblivious to the trap closing around us.

No wonder the grizzly that had killed Rodney had seemed wrong to me. It hadn’t been a bear at all.

Yaard was alive, and he’d been hunting us all along. Hunting Hannah.

I hurled the wad of rotting fur to the ground with a snarl of pure fury, throwing back my head and drawing in a great, desperate lungful of air.

I was no longer hunting Yaard—that mission had become secondary to something infinitely more precious.

The scent I sought now was sweeter than honey, more vital to me than oxygen itself.

Hannah.

My mate. My heart.

Her scent called to me through the chaos of fear and rage like a beacon, and I followed it with the single-minded determination of a male who would tear apart the very fabric of reality to reclaim what was his.