Page 19

Marinah

We were exhausted, and it didn’t matter. King insisted we take the motorbikes out at midnight to tour the island to double-check our defenses. He was doing it to calm my nerves because I had been climbing the walls. He stayed seemingly calm, while his expression resembled granite. I wanted to punch him in the face.

Civilians were hunkered down at the citadel or in the surrounding buildings, filling every imaginable space. It was crowded, but the evacuation itself had gone like clockwork, which meant all our drills and prep work had paid off. Seeing the faces of the women and children as I passed through the endless halls had been hard. It reminded me of the fear and uncertainty I’d lived with after my father died under the Federation’s rule. King had been right. I needed to settle my nerves with more than meditation.

We headed to the southern part of the island where the Federation’s underwater hellhounds made their creepy dance. We took the highway curves at breakneck speed, and exhilaration filled me. Piloting a motorcycle had been another learning curve. After my first crash, where I’d sailed over the handlebars and landed in a heap ten feet away, I’d stopped worrying about injury. Instead, I learned to shift my body with the bike like it was a part of me, and now, I loved every second.

We passed Shadow Warriors stationed in strategic locations along the road, armed with weapons and radios to alert the towers if we read the Federation’s signals wrong and they attacked from this direction. We were fairly certain their soldiers would come straight at the citadel, but we’d planned for every contingency we could think of.

When we reached the southernmost location, we turned the bikes around and headed back the way we came. We stopped where Cabel and his team were doing their gruesome job of beheading the underwater circus. For the strangest reason, it seemed wrong somehow. Maybe it was because they couldn’t fight back, and I wasn’t someone who could kill systematically. Or at least right now I couldn’t. I changed more each day. Who knew what I may or may not do a year from now.

Cabel’s unit had at least fifty watercraft, everything from smaller military boats to repurposed fishing vessels. We couldn’t see far into the distance, but King radioed ahead, and Cabel soon steered his boat to shore.

“Do you need more men?” I asked him.

“We’re good,” he assured me. “We’ll have this location cleared in an hour and move on,” he replied confidently. “We send divers down, attach hooks to their chains, and drag them up so we can behead them from above. The Federation’s been planting hellhounds for months, and we’re only scratching the surface. I promise we’ll make a dent in their plans.” Death gleamed in his eyes.

We left Cabel to his work and headed back toward the citadel. On the way, King veered off the road, and I followed him to one of our favorite spots. He took my hand and led me to the edge of the cliff that overlooked the ocean. The waves splashed against the shore below, and the sounds of the night filled the air, wrapping around me.

I knew this spark of peace was a lie, but I took just a moment to simply be. The Federation was coming. They wanted us dead. They wished to annihilate us for the simple crime of being different. They wanted the human men and women of this island under their control or dead too.

“Waiting is the hard part,” King murmured, breaking the quiet. He circled his arm around me, pulling me close. I leaned my head against his shoulder, inhaling his familiar scent. Ms. Beast rumbled softly in approval, and King’s Beast responded in kind. Sometimes, his Beast appeared like some type of aura, and our beast energy flowed seamlessly between us. It felt too steady, too calm, boring even. I felt most alive when King challenged me.

“What if only one of us survives?” I asked quietly, voicing the fear that gripped my heart. It was the one thing I didn’t want to face, but it had to be said.

King smoothed his hand across my back, his touch calming me even before he answered. “The survivor will continue the fight,” he said gruffly.

I looked up at him and held his gaze. “I can’t lose you.”

His mouth curved into a wicked smile, the scar across his cheek catching the moonlight and making him even more imperfectly wonderful. “You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”

“I won’t try, then.” Rising to the tips of my Doc Martens, I kissed him. His savage taste filled something raw and untamed inside me, coaxing out Ms. Beast’s wild side. She purred in response, her primal satisfaction sending electrical pulses through me. The shadowed presence of Nova lingered, waiting just beneath the surface.

When we finally came up for air, I asked, “Do you ever think about what will happen when there’s no one left to fight?”

He tilted his head down, his eyes locking onto mine. “I think there will always be war. It’s the blight of mankind.”

“Is that what you want?”

He reached out and tugged gently on one of my braids, his expression thoughtful. “You’re thinking about your grandmother’s journal. What’s this really about?”

His gaze held mine, and I wondered if he could ever truly understand how much I loved him. Probably not. “The white picket fence, a dog by the hearth, a baby crawling on the floor. Is that life even possible?”

His voice dropped an octave. “Is that what you want, Marinah?”

“I’m not sure,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

He kissed the tip of my nose. “I think you’d be bored within a week. Maybe we could compromise and find a big, furry devil dog to entertain your devil cat.” His thumb brushed across my cheek. “As for children, it’s expected of us. And when we have them, they’ll be alpha Warriors.”

I shifted slightly in his arms, loosening his hold without pulling away. “What if they want to be ordinary?”

He threw his head back and barked out a carefree laugh. “There will be nothing ordinary about our children,” he said when he could breathe again. “Our girls will be headstrong, beautiful bullies who tease their male counterparts and put frogs in their beds. The boys will be as handsome as their father and won’t know what hit them when the girls are around. Much like your men, they’ll constantly be searching for places to hide.”

“Our men,” I corrected, arching a brow. “And just how many children do you think we’re having?” I asked, trying to keep the laughter from my voice.

“A citadel full, at least,” he replied with a wicked grin.

I gave his stomach a firm jab. He let out a soft huff, though I knew it didn’t hurt him. “You forget,” I said, narrowing my eyes, “it’s my body that has to bear the citadel full of children.”

“I picture you plump and grumpy, waddling through the citadel looking for a wall to put your boot through,” King teased.

“What about our home? I thought we’d raise our family there,” I asked, half-serious.

“How? It won’t hold all our children, and I like the walls there without boot prints.”

I snuggled closer, letting his warmth calm the unease running through me. “I love you,” I said softly.

He tipped my chin up, his gaze locking with mine. “Nothing will happen to either of us. We’re a team. I love you, my queen. We have a war to fight. Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Our noses touched. “You’ve done an incredible job preparing the island,” he said. “We’ll defeat the Federation, and afterward, we’ll go after Barnes. His days are numbered.”

Mate, Ms. Beast whispered inside me.

We took the winding ocean highway back to the citadel, the wind rushing past us as we raced against the storm of battle. My gut churned with unease. No way would this go down without a hitch. I wanted our people safe, every last one of them. A loud rumble echoed inside me, and Ms. Beast whispered one word: kill . We were fully on the same page this time. I’d kill every Federation soldier I came across if it meant saving our people.

Once we arrived at the citadel, King and I split up. He had his tasks, and I had mine. My destination was the Armory to check on the dynamic duo. Rounding a corner too quickly, I almost knocked Cosway over. I grabbed her shoulders to steady her, and her wild eyes met mine, her cat perched awkwardly on her shoulder.

“Babies in danger, must help babies,” she whispered urgently.

Cosway believed anything young, human or animal, was a baby needing her care. The island’s unofficial nurturer, she’d hand out candy to the children and even patch up scraped knees. Once, I’d asked if she wanted to assist Axel in the infirmary, but enclosed spaces were unbearable for her. Instead, she roamed the island, offering help wherever she could, her cat always draped over her like a living scarf.

People returned her kindness with small gifts, tokens of their appreciation. She was integral to the island, accepted and cherished like family. Seeing her so distressed now put me on edge. Something was wrong.

“Cosway,” I said gently, drawing her attention. “Take five minutes and center yourself with me.”

She nodded and sank to the floor where she stood, pressing her back against the wall. I followed, sitting beside her. “Breathe,” she murmured softly, her lilting voice as soothing as ever. I mirrored her, drawing in a deep breath. “Bad out, good in,” she continued, guiding our slow inhales and exhales.

As her voice softened into a comforting hum, I drifted to my sanctuary. In my mind, I disassembled my rifle, reassembled it, and lined up the sight. Through the scope, I stared into the cold, dead eyes of an imaginary Federation soldier. My hands were steady, my aim precise. I pulled the trigger and watched his head explode. In my imagination, he wore President Barnes’ face. I lined up another shot, ready for the next target, the tension in my shoulders easing slightly with each imagined kill.

Cosway’s voice gently broke through my focus. “I will keep the babies safe,” she whispered, stroking the fur of her cat nestled in her lap.

“Thank you, Cosway,” I said earnestly. “The babies need you.”

She reached over, squeezed my hand, then sprang to her feet and dashed down the hall in the opposite direction, her cat clinging to her as if accustomed to this routine.

I felt more grounded after those brief moments of shared calm. Centered and focused, I was ready to face what came next.

That thought accompanied me as I entered the armory. Ruth and Che sat on the floor amidst a sea of weapons, scattered sheets of paper between them. Both were scribbling furiously, heads bent in concentration. At the sound of my boots, their heads popped up, their faces alight with a mix of surprise and determination.

I walked closer and peered over Ruth’s shoulder.

“We didn’t know the names of most of the artillery,” she explained, “so we’re drawing scaled images to eliminate any confusion. Once we’re done, we’ll finish the inventory and have it to you in a few hours.”

I blinked, my jaw struggling to remain in place. Ruth had even adopted military jargon. Who had molded this child? These two had worked tirelessly since I’d given them the task. I tried to keep my tone gentle.

“Do your moms know you’re here?” I asked, trying not to smile too broadly.

Ruth shrugged, her thin shoulders belying her intense fortitude. “We couldn’t sleep, so we snuck out. This needs to be done before the fighting begins. We found a few guns that might be faulty and set them aside. If someone can show me how to fix them, I’ll take care of it.”

“Me too,” Che chimed in, looking up from his detailed drawing of a horseman’s pick; a medieval warhammer that, somehow, had ended up in our stockpile.

I rested a hand on my side where my sixteenth-century German Mortuary Sword hung in its scabbard. A gift from King, it was special, able to cleave a hellhound’s head clean off with little effort. “At least tell me you ate all your dinner,” I said. I knew that arguing about their lack of sleep would be futile. These battles had to be chosen wisely.

“Every bite,” Che replied with a grin.

Ruth’s expression soured. “My mom made meatloaf. I ate it, but it wasn’t very good.”

Hmm. My stomach growled at the thought. I hadn’t had meatloaf in years. “I’ll have two cots brought in here. If you get tired, rest. I’ll need you both alert when the Federation attacks.”

They nodded. I left the armory and headed to my room. When I got there, I found King lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling in the same way I had earlier.

I walked to the end of the bed, turned, and let myself fall backward. I landed with a soft thud and bounced a few times.

“Quite the entrance,” King said, still gazing upward.

“I’m exhausted,” I sighed.

“Lie here for two minutes, and you’ll be wide awake, I promise.”

“That’s the plan,” I replied, rolling to my side so I could face him. “Is it always like this before a battle?”

“Always,” he said simply.

“I think it’s easier to march for days, find what you’re hunting, and kill it.” I rubbed my temples. It definitely would’ve been easier on my overworked brain.

He was still looking at the ceiling, but I could hear the grin in his voice. “Much simpler.”

I nestled into his chest, letting his warmth soothe me as I closed my eyes. His arm tightened around me, anchoring me in place. I took a deep breath, trying to push the tension from my mind. “I’m going to meditate for a while,” I murmured. “Don’t start the war without me.”

“I promise,” he whispered into my hair.

I let my mind empty, focusing on the rhythm of my breathing. But instead of peace, my thoughts drifted to killing. Ms. Beast stirred within me, a steady and needed presence. Meditation, it seemed, was something she enjoyed too.