Page 19

Nirrn

Nirrn moved silently across the damp stone as he led his team through the twisting alleyways of Jorvla’s government district.

The orange-gold scales along his broad shoulders gleamed in the dim predawn light as he pressed himself against a retaining wall, signaling the others to halt.

His golden eyes narrowed at the looming Jorvlen stronghold ahead.

“Three entry points,” he whispered to Kackjin, the scarred green-scaled Niri warrior beside him. “Sectors three, four, and six. Guards rotate every twenty minutes.”

“You’re sure about this intel?” The scarred human rogue, Tyrus, adjusted his weapon harness. “Because if you’re wrong—”

“I’m not.” Nirrn’s voice carried an edge that hadn’t existed before Islae’s capture. “I’ve memorized every detail of that map. Every guard post. Every security measure.”

A patrol of Jorvlen guards marched past their position.

Nirrn’s muscles coiled, ready to strike if needed, but they passed without incident.

The memory of Islae being dragged away by the Jorvlens burned in his mind, feeding the rage he’d kept carefully controlled since the brutal fight in the underground fighting ring.

“Remember,” he said to the group, “we move fast, and we move smart. The medical supplies are our primary target.” The lie tasted bitter but necessary. These rogues wouldn’t risk their lives for one human woman, no matter how precious she was to him.

“Since when does a healer lead raids?” one of the human rogues muttered.

Nirrn’s strong tail whipped around, pinning the man against the wall. “Since now.” His golden eyes blazed. “Question me again, and you can find your medical supplies elsewhere.”

Kackjin chuckled low. “He’s not the same healer that first entered the pit. There’s warrior blood in him now.”

“The guards are changing soon.” Nirrn released the human, focusing on the stronghold. “Sector three will be exposed in five minutes. We move then.” His hand brushed the concealed blade at his hip—a weapon he’d never needed before but now seemed as natural as any medical tool he’d ever used.

“And if we encounter resistance?” Tyrus asked.

Nirrn’s lips curved into a deadly smile. “Then they learn why Niri are feared across the galaxy.”

His allies shifted nervously behind him, but Nirrn barely noticed. His entire being focused on the stronghold, on the precious cargo it held. Islae was in there, waiting for him. He would tear down every wall and every Jorvlen that stood in his way trying to get to her.

Nirrn’s powerful tail soon propelled him through the shadows of sector three, his darkened orange scales blending with the rusty metal walls of the stronghold. Behind him, three human rogues and a fellow Niri moved in perfect sync, their footsteps barely whispering against the stone floor.

Through his earpiece, Kackjin’s voice crackled. “Sector four breach successful.”

“Six is clear,” Tyrus added from his position.

Nirrn’s eyes narrowed as he scanned the corridor ahead. The prison cells lay three levels below, where they kept Islae. His mate. The thought sent a surge of possessive rage through his blood. The healer in him had always sought to mend—but now his instincts screamed for vengeance.

“Movement ahead,” one of the humans whispered.

Nirrn held up his hand, halting his team. In the distance, boots thundered against metal flooring. His sensitive hearing picked up the sound of weapons being primed.

An explosion rocked the building from sector six. The shock wave rippled through the walls followed by screams and the distinct sound of combat. Alarms began wailing throughout the complex. Red emergency lights bathed the corridors in crimson, casting eerie shadows across Nirrn’s scaled shoulders.

“Tyrus’s group made contact,” another human muttered.

A second explosion erupted from sector four.

“They’re pushing back hard in four!” Kackjin’s voice strained through static. “These bastards were ready for—” His transmission cut off in a burst of weapons fire.

Nirrn’s tail coiled tighter, ready to strike at a moment’s notice. He could smell Jorvlen guards approaching from both directions. His team was about to be caught in a crossfire.

“Get ready,” he growled, unsheathing his blade. The weapon felt oddly right in his healer’s hands. “Remember, we hold this position as long as possible.”

Through the chaos of alarms and distant fighting, Nirrn’s enhanced hearing picked up a familiar voice echoing from below—Islae. His mate was alive, and she was moving.

His chest swelled with pride and worry. Of course she wouldn’t wait to be rescued. But now he needed to reach her before the Jorvlens did.

Another explosion rocked the building, closer this time. The acrid smell of smoke filled the air as his team pressed against the walls, waiting for the inevitable clash. Nirrn’s muscles tensed, his newfound warrior’s blood singing for battle.

He was no longer a weak and submissive healer. He was a Niri male fighting for his mate. And the Jorvlens were about to learn exactly what that meant.

The first Jorvlen guard didn’t even see Nirrn coming. His mighty tail whipped around the corner, crushing the guard’s windpipe before he could cry out. Nirrn’s golden eyes narrowed as he scanned the corridor, his scaled shoulders tensing at the sound of approaching footsteps.

“Two more coming from the east,” one of the human rogues whispered.

Nirrn’s hand tightened on his blade. “Take the right. I’ll handle the left.”

The guards rounded the corner, their weapons raised. Nirrn’s tail propelled him forward with lightning speed, his blade finding the weak spot in the first guard’s armor. The human rogue dispatched the second with equal efficiency.

“Clear the path ahead,” Nirrn ordered, his deep voice carrying an edge of steel. “I’m going for the prison cells.”

“You’re supposed to lead us to the medical supplies,” another rogue protested.

Nirrn’s long tail coiled around the man’s throat, not squeezing but threatening. “The supplies are yours. But my mate comes first for me.”

“Your mate?” The rogue’s eyes widened. “The human healer with a bounty?”

“Any objections?” Nirrn’s scales bristled, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

The rogue swallowed hard. “No, sir.”

Nirrn released him, already moving toward the stairwell. His heightened senses picked up Islae’s scent, growing stronger as he descended. The healer in him recognized the metallic tang of blood in the air, and his warrior’s blood roared at the thought of her hurt.

Two more guards appeared at the bottom of the stairs. Nirrn didn’t hesitate. His tail swept their legs out from under them while his blade found its mark. Their bodies hadn’t even hit the floor before he was moving again.

“Nirrn!” Kackjin’s voice crackled through his earpiece. “We’ve got heavy resistance in sector four. They’re pushing us back!”

“Hold them as long as you can.” Nirrn’s blade sliced through another guard’s armor. “I’m almost there.” The lie didn’t even faze him. He had one sole objective—get to Islae.

The prison level stretched before him, lined with dozens of cells.

Islae’s scent was fresh. She had been here recently.

He noticed a young Jorvlen guard lying unconscious in a holding cell with the door open a few feet away.

That must’ve been Islae’s handiwork. Pride flooded his chest but was quickly replaced by concern.

A grunt of pain echoed from around the corner.

Nirrn’s tail propelled him forward, his warrior’s instincts singing with the need to fiercely protect what was his. His mate was close. And nothing would stand between them ever again.

Nirrn’s nostrils flared at the acrid stench of fear emanating from the six Jorvlen guards suddenly rushing toward him. His massive tail coiled tightly, the orange scales rippling with deadly intent. These weren’t the tentative movements of a healer anymore. This was pure predator.

“Take him down!” The lead guard raised his weapon.

Nirrn’s lips pulled back in a savage grin, exposing his sharp teeth. “You should have brought more men with you.”

His tail whipped forward with devastating force, catching the first two guards across their chests. Bones cracked as they slammed into the stone wall. The sound ignited something deeply primal in him—the thrill of the hunt, of protecting what was his.

A blade sliced toward his abdomen. Nirrn grabbed the guard’s wrist, crushing it in his grip. The guard screamed as Nirrn yanked him close, his eyes blazing. “Where is she?”

“Go to hell, snake!”

Nirrn’s tail constricted around the guard’s throat. “Wrong answer.” With a brutal twist, he threw the guard into his companions.

Two more rushed him from opposite sides. Nirrn’s upper body twisted with serpentine grace, his scaled shoulders gleaming in the red emergency lights as he caught both attacks. His healer’s knowledge coupled with his warrior’s instincts proved lethal.

Blood sprayed across his orange scales as his blade found the weak point in one guard’s armor. The metallic scent filled his nose, feeding the savage need coursing through his veins. This wasn’t about healing or helping anymore. This was about claiming what belonged to him.

The last guard backed away, terror evident in his eyes. “You’re supposed to be just a healer!”

“I am whatever my mate needs me to be.” Nirrn’s tail lashed out, wrapping around the guard’s legs and yanking him off his feet. He loomed over his prey, his muscles rippling beneath his scaled chest. “And right now, she needs a warrior.”

The guard reached for a fallen weapon. Nirrn’s tail crushed his arm, drawing a scream that echoed through the prison corridor. He leaned down, his voice lowering to a deadly whisper. “Tell your commander when you wake up—anyone who dares touch my mate dies screaming.”

With clinical precision, Nirrn struck a pressure point, rendering the guard unconscious. He surveyed the carnage around him, his chest heaving. Blood dripped from his blade onto the stone floor. The healer in him should have felt horror at such violence.

Instead, he felt only primal satisfaction.