Page 18

King

We were back in our room. Marinah commanded the men like she was born to lead, and her handling of Che and Ruth was pure brilliance. The kids had finally met their match, and truth be told, so had the rest of us.

Her plan for the island wasn’t the one I would’ve chosen, but it was solid. She had a natural gift for strategizing when she didn’t overthink it. She didn’t root everything solely in military texts; she was intuitive, grounded, and unpredictable all at once. The Federation wouldn’t know whether they were coming or going.

I’d waited until now to explain my role in her plans, and predictably, she wasn’t thrilled. “I’m part of your guard for a reason,” I told her firmly. “Beck babysat me, and now I’ll be babysitting you through this fight.”

Her response was a very unladylike snort. I glared. “You’ll be where the action is, so don’t worry about me getting bored.”

She sighed and gave in, albeit ungracefully. “You enjoy this entirely too much,” she said.

I flicked one of her braids. “It’s called war, baby.”

Her grin stretched into something mischievous, her eyes gleaming with that telltale spark of challenge. “You only call me ‘baby’ when you’re trying to push my buttons.”

I placed a hand over my heart, feigning innocence. “Caught me. Now eat your dinner so we can get to work, and you can save the world.”

She stared at the plate in front of her, frowning. “I’m too nervous to eat.”

“Eat,” I ordered, my tone leaving no room for argument. Her Beast didn’t like it, and the flash of K-5 in her gaze proved it. Marinah grunted in irritation, but I stood my ground, crossing my arms and planting my feet.

“Fine, I’ll eat,” she whined, picking up her fork.

My Beast stirred with satisfaction at the small victory. Once she started, she didn’t slow down, even when there was a knock at the door.

I opened it to find Nokita. Marinah barely glanced up from her plate. “Report,” she said through a mouthful of food.

To my surprise, Nokita snapped to attention. Marinah gave me a quick side-eye, clearly caught off guard by the formality. Nokita had always been comfortable around her. This shift was unexpected. It was a display of respect, acknowledgment of the stakes we were facing.

“I can jam the frequency to stop the release of hellhounds in a small area only,” he began, “I can only reach a hundred yards in all directions. It’ll stop some hellhounds, but not nearly enough.”

“Can you make more than one jammer?” Marinah asked, shoveling another bite into her mouth.

“We don’t have the parts I need on the island,” Nokita replied, shaking his head. “I could probably scavenge on the mainland, but we don’t have time. Cabel also asked me to inform you that most of the underwater hellhounds start about ten miles out from the citadel and stretch almost to the shipyard’s doorstep. The key piece of info he wanted to emphasize is that there are no hellhounds near Warrior Bay.”

Warrior Bay, a mile from the citadel, was named after we took over the island. I felt a small flicker of relief at the news. At least the Federation wasn’t attacking the entire island. Still, there was no denying it now: Knet was working with them. He knew we’d use the tunnels at the first sign of trouble to bring the humans to the citadel. Destroying the citadel was their main goal.

Marinah leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling as she thought. “I want our human archers stationed at the shipyard first,” she finally said. “They’ll use the explosive rounds to fire at hounds leaving the water. I want them to pull back once the remaining hellhounds get too close to shore. Have transports ready to move them to strategic locations as needed. Once they’ve done as much damage as possible, we’ll bring them back to the citadel. If it comes to a final stand, they’ll post up in the upper windows or on the roof.”

Missy, Beck’s mate, had started the archery group when she arrived on the island. What began as a small team had grown into over two hundred men and women, all highly proficient with their weapons now. They’d learned to shoot the throats of the hounds with explosive rounds and remove their heads. Missy wasn’t the type of human to sit on the sidelines. If any mother deserved a daughter like Ruth, it was her.

Without a cure for hellhound bites or scratches, humans couldn’t risk close combat. The longbows gave them the advantage of distance. For months, Missy’s group had been making and stockpiling arrows, training relentlessly to improve their accuracy. Their precision had become so reliable that the Shadow Warriors could wade into a horde of hellhounds with confidence, knowing they’d have long-distance support taking down monsters too.

Marinah drummed her fingers on the table, deep in thought. “Is there any way we could make our own receivers to unlock the hellhounds?”

“We don’t need to,” Nokita replied. “I’ve been studying one of their devices. I can use one of ours, readjust the frequency, and, in theory, use a radio as a trigger to release the hounds. It’ll all come down to timing.”

Marinah nodded and leaned forward. “Have Cabel move as many of the Federation hellhounds as possible to the bay. The lack of hounds near the citadel tells us exactly where the Federation plans to strike. We’ll have an undead army of surprises waiting for them when they arrive.”

“You want the frequency interrupter set up at the docks?” Nokita asked.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “The docks aren’t as populated as the area closer to the citadel. Find a location somewhere in the middle, a place that will disrupt the signal for as many hellhounds as possible. They will use their controllers and depend on them to work. I doubt they will try again. The fewer hounds that come to shore in the outer areas, the fewer we will need to clean up after the battle.”

“I have the perfect spot,” Nokita assured her.

“Any progress with the larger sub?” Marinah asked.

Nokita tilted his head slightly, his gaze drifting past us. “There won’t be time. We’re stuck with the small one for now. That said, there are water mines in one of the military stockades. I won’t have the chance to set them up before the attack, but when this is over, I’ll make sure their sub never gets near the island again. I can also rig an underwater perimeter fence to alert us the next time they try something.” He brightened slightly. “The good news is the gatling gun is operational, thanks to one of the islanders.”

Marinah considered this for a moment before giving her orders. “The Federation doesn’t know we’re onto them, so we might not need it, but post two Shadow Warriors along the shore road near the shipyard with the gun. If we’re wrong about where the Federation attacks, the extra firepower will stop a good number of soldiers.”

She paused, and her gaze stayed on Nokita. “Also, give one of your men a crash course in operating the small sub in case it’s needed. Then speak with Cabel. He’s in charge of taking out hellhounds underwater. Make sure he works away from where you’re using the jammer and away from the docks so the archers can warm up.”

Nokita gave a sharp nod.

Each member of our guard commanded two hundred troops. Nokita’s Warriors were often mechanically inclined, fitting perfectly into his area of expertise. He also included humans in his unit. Cuba, frozen in the 1950s for generations, was full of men, and surprisingly a number of women, who knew how to keep old vehicles running. Their knowledge was invaluable in the new world. We’d take all the help we could get.

Nokita shifted into a relaxed parade rest, a slight quirk lifting the corner of his lips. “I’d also like to report the dissemination of weapons has gone smoothly.”

“Of course it has. I put Attila the Hun and her sidekick general in charge.”

“Yes, my Alpha,” Nokita replied with a slight bow of his head and a small grin before leaving the room.

I had watched the entire exchange, transfixed. This was Marinah in her element. “Why did you put the archers on the docks?” I asked after the door closed.

She smiled and shrugged. “The humans are like Ruth and Che. They don’t want to depend entirely on us for their safety. It’s why they started the archery group. They need to feel like they’re part of the fight. We need hellhounds eliminated, and they are more than capable.”

“Someone told you this?”

She rolled her eyes, clearly irritated. “The women had no problem telling me how they felt. And notice the past tense. They haven’t said a word to me since my Nova fit.”

“Nova fit?” I couldn’t help but smile.

“Nova tantrum?” she muttered under her breath.

“How about Nova Queen who saved their lives and those of our Warriors?” I said, hoping she understood.

“Tantrum and fit sound less threatening,” she grumbled, but I caught the faintest twitch of amusement on her lips.

Her expression had me moving before I even thought about it. I rose from the chair and stepped into her space. She placed her fork down beside her plate, turned slightly, and rested her head against my stomach. Her slow, steady inhale told me she was wrestling with the part of herself that doubted her ability to lead. I slid my fingers over her soft braids, my touch lingering as I noticed a small twig tangled in her hair. I wisely chose not to mention it.

“Your Nova is pure beauty,” I said. “She’s made for war, and you need to embrace her. She will save this island if it’s asked of her.”

“You’re so sure,” she murmured against my skin, then tilted her head back to look up at me. “But what if she’s made for peace?”

The question caught me off guard, and I didn’t have an immediate answer. Our Beasts were created for war, and a Nova was the most fearsome of all. “Why do you ask?” I finally said, uncertain of her reasoning.

“It’s something I read in my grandmother’s journal,” she said quietly. “You need to hear it.”

I walked to her bedside, picked up the journal resting there, and carried it to the table. She flipped through its pages and began reading aloud.

War is the world of Shadow Warriors. For Shadow Women, this is unacceptable. We are mothers, nurturers, providers. That which is war will never touch our door again. I, as Nova Warrior, have suppressed that which weakened me. My Nova will stand guard as we walk a path of harmony. She is at peace with my decision.

“Who wrote it?” I asked as she gently closed the book and looked at me.

“My grandmother,” she replied. “Most of the words written are her writing what her grandmother told her, but this came directly from her.”

It made sense. Of course, the woman warriors had been Nova. Not all Novas stayed on the home planet as our histories claimed. The lack of records about female Novas now seemed deliberate, as if the women had kept their own secrets.

“My grandmother and her grandmother were Nova,” Marinah said, her gaze drifting thoughtfully around the room. “And they turned it into a gift of peace.” Her voice softened; the realization pressing down on her. “Endura told me my grandmother was revered by the women. Do you think Endura knew I was Nova?”

“I’m unsure,” I replied. “Have you read the entire journal?”

“No, only the first two sections,” Marinah said. “I’m translating as I go, and it’s slowing me down.”

She laughed at the look on my face. My uncle had made me study our texts until I thought my brain would explode, but thankfully, I never had to translate them.

“Have you learned anything else?” I asked.

A sad smile crossed her face as she shook her head. “I’m trying to understand why the women won’t fight with us.”

I doubted we’d ever understand. The idea of running or standing idly by during a fight wasn’t in our nature. Standing from my chair, I lifted her into my arms. “It’s their choice,” I said as I inhaled her scent.

“I was too terrified to live before my Warrior came out,” she said softly against me. “They’re willing to simply die. It angers me, but more than that, it saddens me. There must be a way to fix what happened so long ago. No one is alive from that time, and we must find a way to meet in the middle.”

I had my doubts. The women had another mindset, and they separated from us long ago. They were no longer part of the Shadow Warrior world. They would keep their peaceful ways in a non-peaceful world, dying with their moral integrity intact. The person Marinah had been before she changed still bothered her. She saw herself in these women. If she would have been raised among them, she would most likely be one of them in thought and action. That she had been weak and too terrified to live, haunted her. It would also drag her down if she didn’t shake off her old mantle and realize she was no longer that person. She wasn’t a Shadow Woman. She was Warrior.

“You forget, as human, you gave your life for Che’s. It was the ultimate test, and even as a human, you passed. Your father sheltered you, and as much as I admired the man, he did you an injustice.”

“My mother and father knew what I was,” she said, steel entering the words. “They tried to make sure I never shifted or understood. I can’t shake the past and I carry a lot of anger over what they did.”

I inhaled deeply, her scent calming my beast while I rocked her gently in my arms to comfort us both. “They could never have kept your Warrior hidden. Sooner or later, you would have ignited into the incredible person you are now.”

“The women, my closest ties to the past, will die if I cannot help them.” The sorrow in her voice nearly broke me.

It wasn’t in her nature to simply let them die. If anyone could save the world, it was my queen, but even so, I had to tell her the truth. “It’s their decision. We’re Shadow Warriors, but we still have choices.” I hesitated for a moment. “You know there must be a safe place in this fucked-up world. We could simply walk away and go search for it.”

She lifted her head, her eyes blazing with the spark I needed to see. This was the Queen she was meant to be. “We will never walk away from this fight,” she said, her voice carrying the weight of the entire world in each word. “We will keep the island safe. If my grandmother’s people choose death, so be it.”

I tipped her chin up and lowered my head. Our kiss was brief, just enough to remind me why I loved her so deeply. Right now, we had an island to protect, and Marinah carried the heaviest weight of all.