Page 17

King

It was late, more precisely, early morning, when we returned. Marinah was still asleep. We’d scoured the city for any sign of Smythe but came up empty. The storm raging inside me wasn’t doing me any favors. I wanted my hands around that man’s throat, and until it happened, there’d be no peace for me.

Sliding into bed beside my mate, I pulled her close. She instinctively rolled against me, her body fitting perfectly against mine out of habit. She mumbled something under her breath, too soft to make out, and fell silent again. I wasn’t even sure she’d woken at all.

My mind, however, was far too restless.

“They come at night.” The prisoner’s gruff voice cut through the quiet.

I turned my head to look at him. Before we went to search for Smythe, my attempt to pry useful information from his broken mind had been a complete waste of time. His answers were nonsensical, crazy blabbering that never led anywhere. I had no idea how he’d managed to survive this long. He was a danger to himself and to anyone unlucky enough to cross his path. Killing him would be a mercy. There was no way he could survive alone much longer and taking him back to the outposts wasn’t an option. He was too unstable.

“They come at night,” he said again, curling into a ball with his knees drawn tightly to his chest. He closed his eyes, shutting out the world.

His words stirred something in me, a grim reminder of how it had all started. In the beginning, the hellhounds had come at night, hiding during the day. But that didn’t last long. Soon enough, daylight couldn’t hold them back, and their terror descended without mercy.

The urge to leave right now overwhelmed me, but with Garret’s condition, that wasn’t happening anytime soon. Frustration gnawed at me, but I shifted closer to Marinah, burying my face in her hair and allowed her scent to fill my lungs.

I closed my eyes, trying to push it all aside.

I would reassess tomorrow.

∞∞∞

I woke before Marinah and grabbed our packs, pulling out the breakfast MREs. The prisoner was already sitting up, his attention fixed on my sleeping mate. Beast didn’t seem to care, so I let it slide for now.

Slowly, he tore his eyes away and looked at me. There was a flicker of clarity in his gaze that hadn’t been there before. “She’s one of you,” he said.

I didn’t answer. Marinah was in Warrior form, and his declaration was obvious.

“She’s special,” he added, his tone shifting to something close to worship.

Great. Now he was obsessing over my mate. And still, Beast didn’t react. Very strange.

“I have a name. I do,” he said, his voice childlike.

We’d tried getting this information from him before, but I went for it again. “What is it?”

“A name. Just a name,” he sang, his words spiraling into nonsense again.

Marinah stirred, sitting up and carefully rubbed her eyes with the backs of her hands. She glanced at me, her expression questioning. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to let go of my anger just yet.

She smiled, and Beast perked up immediately, the idiot. She scooted closer, leaning into my side. “I know it won’t help, but I’m sorry,” she said softly.

I heard the sincerity in her words, but that didn’t mean I believed her. If the situation played out all over again, she’d do the exact same thing and put herself in danger without question.

I’d led my men for years. I was decisive and exacting. None of them would call me thoughtful or generous, but they respected my leadership because I made the hard calls. A bad decision meant more people died, and there was no room for compromise. My orders were meant to be carried out as given.

Then there was my mate. Marinah threw all my rules out the window. She wouldn’t keep herself safe. She did whatever she wanted, and the consequences be damned.

“The butterfly is awake,” the prisoner muttered, breaking my train of thought.

Marinah turned her head toward him. “What’s your name?” she asked politely, her tone gentle.

It worked.

“Cosway. Cosway is my name,” he said, his head jerking as he looked around nervously.

Axel walked over, glancing at him with a practiced eye. “I need to check your arm,” he said.

“Arm good,” Cosway replied, lifting and lowering it at the shoulder while carefully avoiding any movement of the broken bone below his elbow.

“If the swelling’s down, I’ll tighten the bandage. It should feel more comfortable,” Axel told him.

The prisoner glanced around again, his jerky movements making him seem even more unstable. He didn’t respond. Axel wouldn’t like what I had planned for him, and neither would Marinah. If we left him behind, he’d be a danger to anyone Garret sent back for supplies. His fate was sealed, but I wasn’t ready to share that decision yet. I’d save that battle for when we were ready to leave.

“How is he?” I asked Axel, nodding toward Garret.

Axel glanced over at the man, then back at me and Marinah. “He’s critical,” he said.

The vulnerability in his eyes hit hard. Axel’s life had never been easy. His sexual orientation wasn’t an issue for us, but he carried his own scars. He’d grown up in a small, conservative farming community where coming out to his parents went about as poorly as one could imagine. They’d sent him to gay conversion therapy, which only drove him to run away repeatedly. Each time they brought him back, he’d escape again.

Despite everything, Axel was brilliant and a straight-A student. Eventually, his parents agreed to pay for medical school, hoping that if he became a doctor, maybe their church would overlook what they saw as his “shortcoming.” His Shadow Warrior father barely spoke to him, and by the time my uncle found him, Axel was a broken man. Graystone brought him into our group, and despite his past, Axel somehow managed to keep up with his hospital internship while following my uncle’s rigid rules.

He had been a gift ever since, saving countless Warrior and human lives.

I looked at Garret again. If he didn’t make it, Axel might never get another chance at finding someone truly compatible. That thought twisted something deep inside me.

Marinah leaned closer, her warmth separating my anger for a moment. She was a whirlwind and drove me to the brink of insanity half the time. But I was happy, at least when she wasn’t throwing herself into danger.

“When will he be able to travel?” I asked Axel grimly.

He sighed. “A week, if he survives the next two days.”

“We leave in three days,” I said, leaving no room for argument.

Marinah whipped her head around, cutting Axel off before he had a chance to speak. “Leaving that soon will kill him,” she snapped.

I hardened my voice. “We’ll carry him if needed. We leave in three days.”

Her loud huff was full of displeasure, but I didn’t flinch. She set her MRE can down with a deliberate thud, picked up another, and marched over to the prisoner, completely ignoring me.

“Can you eat with your injured arm?” she asked, crouching beside him.

He cocked his head, studying her as though she was the most fascinating thing in the world. “Pretty butterfly,” he murmured.

“Thank you,” she said curtly. “You need to eat.” She handed him the opened can, and he placed it on the ground, hunching over it protectively as he began eating with the fingers of his uninjured hand.

“I’ll get you water,” she added, again ignoring me as she grabbed one of her canteens. She shook it, testing how much was inside, before walking back to Cosway.

What kind of name was Cosway ?

She glanced over her shoulder at me, her expression daring me to object. I stayed silent. Beast, who usually paid Axel little attention because of his preferences, was also ignoring this man. Strange. But Beast wasn’t ignoring Marinah’s displeasure. Her irritation stirred him, and he grumbled inside me.

“Thank you, butterfly,” Cosway said, handing the canteen back after taking a long drink.

Marinah smiled and walked toward me again. Her current displeasure showed in her steel gaze. I ignored it.

“What are we going to do with him?” she demanded.

I looked at the prisoner, then back at her, saying nothing, but something must have shown in my expression.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “That’s not happening.”

What is it about authority that Marinah does not understand? This decision was out of her hands, and I didn’t bother replying.

“King?” She leaned in closer, her anger burning like hot coals. “You are not killing him. He’s not all there mentally, and he’s not the enemy.”

“He’s dangerous,” I replied.

“No, he’s scared, and he didn’t shoot. He’s also the reason Garret has a chance and he hasn’t shown any violent behavior since he got here.”

“That was a few hours ago,” I countered. “Not nearly enough time to make that determination.”

One of her claws flicked out, pressing just enough to prick the skin of my arm. “It’s been twelve hours. I’m not going to stand by and let you kill him,” she said with authority she didn’t have.

Beast grumbled at her defiance, stirring uneasily inside me. “This is not a democracy,” I said flatly.

Her entire body went rigid, and her dark eyes seemed to deepen, growing darker still. “Mating is a democracy,” she snapped, “and if it isn’t, I’ll be rethinking things.”

She was actually sexy when she was irritated, but I wasn’t nearly dumb enough to point that out. “Look around you, Marinah. My men will follow my orders. You are one of my men, and the sooner you accept that, the better.”

Her claw slid away without breaking skin, which surprised me. She straightened, turning her back on me, and crossed the rooftop to Axel, who had returned to Garret’s side. I was sure he was doing his best to stay out of our argument.

Marinah and the doctor began talking quietly, their voices blending into the background noise as I tuned them out. My nerves were frayed, stretched thin by the constant tension. We were in danger, and my mate was upset.

Same day, different country.