Page 8 of Fog of War (Over the Moon)

Paladus

I was lucky that I hadn’t gotten the human’s name when she’d slapped her mark on my chest.

If I had, it would echo in me for the rest of my life.

The Murua Prima’s blessing rumbled beneath all of our plates, swelling our plates with heat, oversensitizing our nerves.

For me, that liquid tingle concentrated on my pectoral plate.

I felt the human slap me and gasp in a hypnotic rhythm that turned erotic.

Saw her mouth before she covered it with her palm.

Salivated over the bare column of her soft throat and the way her pulse teased at the skin…

Aescia and Tertana descended from our platform and I followed close behind, all three of us in sync on the plan we’d trained to execute for months.

But Aescia’s gaze lingered. My sister knew me well, and no matter how I tried, I could not look her in the eye.

I kept to the rear, dragging my feet more than ever, hoping to delay and fail.

Because if I failed, maybe I could–

The crowds in the towers ahead of us erupted into a frenzy.

I glanced at the holoscreens well overhead, but the privacy filter made it impossible for us to see them clearly from an angle on the ground.

It was a safety measure so we couldn’t cheat, but the ululation in the stands sounded indignant rather than excited. An unexpected injury, most likely.

Aescia bumped the head of her hatchet against my shoulder. “What do you think that is?”

I was grateful she didn’t ask me to spill my guts, even if I saw the concern in her unwavering stare.

“Not sure,” I told her, straining my tympana to hear, stilling my feet to feel the ground.

Ah…

“A convergence,” I said, feeling the telltale rumble radiating out from the base of one of the towers. “We should stay clear. Look there.”

I pointed with my own hatchet at Haniale Tetradi running in the opposite direction of the commotion, winding a rope around her forearm and the crux of her thumb. She glanced this way and that, rushing in the direction of the Ignarian quadrant.

Tertana’s mouthparts snapped, her shoulders rigid. I bumped her with my hatchet and nodded off into the distance.

“Go,” I commanded. She followed after Haniale at a sprint. Our cousin had never been the talkative type, and I wasn’t sure if her quarry was an Ignarian or Haniale herself. Either way, she’d get what she was after. She was as stubborn as a brick.

Aescia and I stuck to our original plan, loping across the battlefield towards the Satoris quadrant, more likely to cross paths with Augora that way. We took our time so we wouldn’t tire, seeing the Ignarian twins and leaving each other to our conquests with a nod of respect.

Then Aescia shouted in a bark of surprise. Her plates collided against another champion with a thunderous crack. I snapped my eyes towards Leonide Satoris, raising a hatchet as he fell back a shocked step from Aescia.

Their eyes locked, and his chest stuttered on a hrum. I waited for my sister’s choice. Would she let the challenge stand? The Satoris whelp wasn’t the only champion making a play for her, and she’d never been partial to him. In fact, he’d seemed to annoy her more often than not.

“Leonide,” she started, squeezing the hilts of her hatchets. “I’m not–”

An ululating shriek of rage rose up over the watchtowers. Leonide ripped his eyes away with a pained grimace. “Leopha–” he managed before holding his breath to stave off the impulse to hrum. He clutched his chest, talons digging into his own plates as he charged into the fog towards the excitement.

Towards an active convergence?

Aescia and I watched him go with confusion. No one would want to interfere with that. Convergence was infectious to anyone too close.

“What the hell?” Aescia scoffed.

Footsteps approached at a clip. Augora stared at the watchtowers with her steady, stoic expression, and nodded to me once.

I nodded back, a pit in my stomach. I felt nothing for her, and her chest was just as hollow as mine.

Neither of us had so much as purred at each other in the years we’d been acquainted.

Still, we were expected to try…

“Aescia,” I rasped, nodding into the distance. “Go on.”

She looked between us for a tense moment, then nodded, and disappeared into the fog. Leaving the two of us alone, facing each other with our hatchets held firmly in our fists.

“Leonide?” Augora asked, delaying the inevitable. But maybe it was better to just get it over with. I squared up and committed myself to doing what was expected of me.

“Ran off.” I chucked my chin at the commotion over my shoulder.

At that, Augora’s eyes widened. For the first time in my memory, she looked disturbed.

“Gavenidus was headed there. If he’s converging, Leonide wouldn’t dare get close. Something’s wrong.”

I eased my attention off Augora, looking back at the tower where the commotion had originated. The drones were circling the battlefield like carrions over a carcass. Not a single one was searching for other potential pairs to broadcast.

“He mentioned Leopha,” I mumbled, my heart picking up speed as the connection finally hit me.

“Gabbie Rubens,” Augora breathed, exploding into action.

I sprinted after her, the gravity of the situation dropping an anvil in my stomach.

Something had happened to the human woman.

And now I knew her name.

Ancestors, take pity on my wretched soul.