Page 10 of Shadow (Marinah and the Apocalypse #1)

King

M arinah stormed out of the room, her frustration tangible. A disgruntled Boot trailed behind her like a shadow. Too bad for him. If Marinah had died in the hot room, he would have forfeited his life. Then, he had broken protocol by bringing his wife and son to this location against my explicit orders, a breach that could very well have warranted another death sentence if I had deemed it necessary. However, I understood the reality of his situation. His wife was a notorious handful, and with another baby on the way, I was inclined to show leniency. Killing Boot over this indiscretion would have served no real purpose.

Oddly enough, seeing him carry Marinah into the room hadn’t sparked the same irritation that flared up when other men interacted with her. Boot was non-threatening, which was precisely why I had assigned him to her detail in the first place. His beast hadn’t manifested until after his twenty-first birthday, far later than most, and even then, he wasn’t a typical Shadow Warrior. He was more than capable of killing, his beast ensured that, but he lacked the exhilaration most of us felt in the act. Death didn’t stir the same thrill in him, which made him a rarity among our kind.

Even my beast, usually bristling at any man’s proximity to Marinah, remained calm in Boot’s presence. Perhaps whatever issue Beast had before resolved itself. Marinah had been under my scrutiny all week. Despite her frustrations, she had been respectful to her guards. Her curiosity about her environment was evident, but it seemed driven by wonder, not espionage. When she was outside, there was genuine joy on her face, like a child discovering something new. She didn’t act like the spy we knew she was.

Still, I needed her out of my way for the next few hours. First, I had an unavoidable meeting to handle, one that would leave me itching to break something. After that, I’d inspect the fields and visit some of the outlying homes where mated Shadow Warriors resided. Mating was a volatile time for our species. The frenzy could last up to a year before a warrior tolerated another man near his mate. But during that year, they were at their peak as fighters. A mate gave them something worth returning home to.

∞∞∞

The round table was a heavy slab of scarred wood, its surface marred by years of use and countless arguments. It didn’t so much as tremble when I drove my knife an inch into its battered surface. Mine was the last blade to pierce the wood, signaling the start of the meeting. Around the table, the Warriors, my personal guard, met my gaze briefly, their trust in my ability to control Beast and not take off their heads, no matter how angry I got, was implicit.

Beck sat to my right, his blue eyes angry, his perpetual scowl firmly in place. Next to him was Labyrinth, a giant of a man with one blue eye and one green, a unique feature often overshadowed by his sheer size. Nokita, the youngest among us, sat beside him. His full blue eyes gleamed with youthful intensity, a stark contrast to his ever-running mouth. He was still growing into his beast and had yet to learn the discipline the rest of us had mastered, or pretended to.

Axel, the group’s oddity, rounded out the five of us. As a pacifist in a world of warriors, Axel’s calm demeanor and sharp intellect were an asset. He was our doctor, the one who patched us up when our battles went too far, and he did so with quiet competence that none of us questioned. I suspected Axel had greater control over his beast than the rest of us combined. His ability to keep it suppressed, no matter the circumstances, was astounding.

Our recent meetings had been about Knet, a perpetual thorn in my side. His insubordination and arrogance constantly pushed the limits of my patience. I had voted to kill him twice and was voted down. I could have overridden it, but his usefulness, barely, had kept him alive.

Today, however, Knet wasn’t the focus of our discussion. Marinah was.

“You shouldn’t have brought the female here,” Beck said, breaking the silence. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his gaze darting around the table with barely contained fury.

I glanced at Nokita, sitting beside him.

“If the woman can help pave the way for cooperation with humans, give her a chance,” Nokita said, throwing Beck a sidelong glance.

Beck’s response was a low, menacing growl, the sound reverberating around the room. No one acknowledged it. We had all grown accustomed to his dislike of just about everything and everyone.

My gaze settled on Labyrinth. His mismatched eyes revealed nothing, but his tone did. “Humans are the problem, and this woman is human,” he said. “We can negotiate with her all we want, but that doesn’t mean her government will honor any treaty she brokers.”

Axel spoke next, his tone light, as always. “We don’t kill women unless we have to, and we didn’t bring her here to slaughter her on arrival. Though after her stint in the green room, I have my doubts.” He gave Beck a hard stare, like it was his fault. “Her government may not abide by any agreement, but is that really her fault?” He shifted his gaze to Beck and Labyrinth. “You got exactly what you asked for, so why the grumbling now?” he said with calm accusation.

“Does everyone feel better?” I asked, my tone lined with sarcasm, though my patience was threadbare.

“Better?” Beck’s growl matched his posture as he leaned forward, his large biceps flexing, threatening the seams of his sleeves.

“Yes, better,” I replied, my voice rising to match his idiotic, never-ending anger. “The woman stays, no one touches her, and we see where it leads. Right now, we’re killing time as we gather more intel. And time is essential.”

Beck leaned further forward, his palms pressing flat against the table, his glare locking on mine. “If you don’t intend to listen to us, why are we here?” His grumble carried just enough heat, along with the sustained eye contact, to ignite Beast’s attention. I pushed against the K-5 surge, reining it in quickly.

“We’re here,” I bit out, temper straining against its leash, “because I’m tired of the whining about the woman. The decision to bring her here was unanimous. We have bigger problems, and I don’t want to hear another complaint, or I’ll start knocking your fucking heads together.” My gaze swept the room one final time. “Are we finished?”

Slowly, the council members pulled their knives from the table, each one rising in turn. I left my blade until last, sliding it back into its side holster with practiced ease.

“I’m going riding,” I said as I stood. “I want privacy.” Without waiting for a response, I turned on my heel and headed outside, letting the crisp air fill my lungs as I strode toward my bike.

Beck followed because he was a stubborn bastard who didn’t seem to care that I needed space. I revved the engine loudly as I took off, shifting gears hard and picking up speed. The roar of the engine drowned out the silence between us, and I was grateful. Beck didn’t say a word, which suited me just fine.

We rode along the coastline of Peninsula Varadero, the ocean breeze whipping past us, until we merged onto the main coastal road leading to Havana. The journey cleared my head, the steady hum of the bike releasing some of my tension. After about thirty minutes, we arrived at one of our agricultural zones. The sight of men and women working the fields while children gathered for lessons in the nearby open-air classroom reassured me. Here, everyone contributed. No exceptions. The climate allowed for year-round growing, and we were stockpiling food as fast as we could harvest it. Survival didn’t tolerate slackers.

We had established a tribunal system for the humans to handle conflicts, with three human representatives and three Warriors sitting on the panel. I cast the deciding vote in case of a tie. For Warriors, the rules were harsher. We held ourselves to a higher standard. Our beasts’ violent nature demanded vigilance. We had seen what happened when we let chaos reign, and I refused to let history repeat itself. This island was proof we could have the best of both worlds, and I intended to make it work.

I cut the engine and climbed off the bike, leaving Beck to idle behind me. He didn’t move, just watched with that perpetual scowl of his.

Cabel, one of my elite guards, strode toward me. Recently married, his demeanor was calm. For now.

“King,” he greeted, stopping a respectful distance away. His gaze remained lowered, his posture formal.

Behind him, his wife lingered about ten feet back, her hands clasped in front of her. She didn’t look up, keeping her place as expected due to Cabel’s volatile just-mated ability to go from zero to ten on a scale of fury in a split second. Cabel’s loyalty and discipline were the reasons he was among my trusted few. But just-mated meant he couldn’t be completely trusted right now.

“How’s married life, Cabel?” I asked, keeping my tone neutral. I didn’t look directly at his wife, just let her stay in my peripheral vision. The last thing I needed was for Cabel’s beast to misinterpret my attention as a threat. His mating instincts were still fresh, and while he was my size, I was confident of the outcome if it came to a fight. He wouldn’t walk away intact. His dirty blond hair and signature blue eyes, framed by a slightly rounder face than mine, made him less intimidating in appearance, but only to those who didn’t know what he was capable of. I had assigned him to oversee our food supply until his beast calmed down or war called us back to the front lines.

When our ancestors came to Earth over two hundred years ago, they had chosen farming as a way to assimilate peacefully into the human population. It had been a calculated decision. Our violent nature had caused us to destroy our own planet, and the survivors knew change was the only path to survival here. Farming, along with shifting to a diet of mostly fruits and vegetables, had helped tame our beasts. It worked for a time, but now, with our true natures resurfacing, many of the men saw farming as beneath them. I disagreed. We could be both farmers and warriors. While we could survive on animal protein alone, humans could not.

“Marriage is good for me,” Cabel said. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder at his wife, who stayed rooted in place behind him. Without missing a beat, he shifted the conversation to our crops. “This harvest should yield high. More than enough to fill the storage bunkers for another year.”

I looked over the fields, a vast expanse of green stretching as far as I could see. Rows upon rows of vegetables grew under the bright Cuban sun.

“We may be feeding more humans soon,” I told him.

Cabel’s gaze snapped back to me, his voice carrying the low rumble of restrained emotion. “You planning to help the Federation?”

The bitterness in his tone was unmistakable. It echoed how we all felt. After we had saved humanity from annihilation, their betrayal and the killing of Greystone had been the worst possible outcome. It was a wound that still festered.

“I haven’t made up my mind, even though I know it’s the best option for our survival. They sent Church’s daughter to bargain,” I said evenly, my gaze still scanning the fields.

Cabel let out a low whistle. “Didn’t even know he had a daughter.”

“She’s not exactly a child, and she was very much her father’s daughter, though she doesn’t know it yet,” I replied, my tone more thoughtful than anything else. “Boot is training her to fight. It buys me time so I can get the latest update from our source within the Federation.”

“If you decide not to help the humans, you should keep her here. We owe it to Church.”

I mulled over his suggestion, my jaw tightening as I considered the implications. Without our help, the Federation was as good as finished. Marinah, however, could survive longer if she stayed here. We knew the hellhounds wouldn’t stop with humans. We would be next on their hit list.

“We do owe him,” I admitted, my voice low, “but that debt may not be enough to save her.”

Cabel met my gaze briefly though not long enough for Beast to take offense, but long enough to press his point. “He died for us, and a debt is a debt,” he said stubbornly. That was the thing about Cabel. He would speak his mind, no matter the situation. But once the decision was made, he would stand by me, even if it went against what he believed. Before his mating, he had been number two. Now, Beck had stepped into that role while we waited for Cabel to regain his edge.

I rubbed two fingers across the scar on my cheek, a habit I didn’t bother to break. “She’ll be judged by her own actions. The blood running through her veins won’t save her if she betrays us.” My voice hardened, and I knew he understood my position, even if he didn’t agree.

“Are you training?” I asked, narrowing my eyes when I noticed his discomfort at the question. The faint red creeping up his neck was answer enough. “Do I need to remove you from this detail?” It was the last thing I wanted to do, but if he was losing his edge, he needed a wake-up call.

Cabel straightened, his expression conciliatory. “No, King. I’ll handle it.”

He would. Cabel never shirked his duties, but then again, he had never been mated before. I would keep a closer eye on him. We couldn’t afford any weakness, not now.

“I’ll train tonight,” Cabel said firmly.

“And tomorrow, and every day after that,” I replied, my tone leaving no room for argument. “You also need to increase your meat intake.” The words landed heavy between us. Farmers were essential, but our best warriors had to remain lethal. Our fathers, who had spent their lives as farmers, had been the first to die because they had forgotten what it meant to let their beasts rule and to kill without hesitation. We wouldn’t go back to that. The new world demanded fighting monsters, and we would keep the people loyal to us safe.

Mating complicated things. The island women often failed to understand our volatile nature during the extended process. If Cabel hadn’t been eating meat or training, it meant he was struggling to maintain control. That was dangerous, but I would address it if it worsened. For now, I pivoted to a safer topic. “How are the herds?”

“We’ve had three new calves as of this morning,” Cabel reported. “Expecting about twenty more soon. The chicks are laying better, and the pigs are getting fat and lazy. A litter of ten was born yesterday. They all survived.”

“I’ll inspect them next week.”

Cabel hesitated briefly, then muttered, “Maybe you should bring Church’s daughter.”

He said it low, but not low enough to escape Beast’s notice. My fist collided with his jaw with a satisfying crunch. His wife rushed forward, her face a storm of fury, but Cabel rolled to his knees, raising a hand to stop her. “Stay back,” he grumbled, spitting into the dirt as he steadied himself.

She halted, her fiery Cuban temperament blazing as her angry gaze shifted to me. She was fierce, but at the moment, not particularly wise.

“Lower your eyes, woman,” Cabel barked, his tone sharper than I had ever heard it.

She froze, her hands clenching into fists at her sides, but she obeyed. I, on the other hand, had no idea why I had lost control so suddenly.

“He has no right to strike you,” she said in stilted English, her fists clenching and unclenching.

“He had every right,” Cabel responded firmly. “Now, go back to the field and check on the children we left weeding the carrots.”

Her lips tightened, and she hurled her parting shot over her shoulder as she stormed off. “You will be eating those carrots and nothing else for a week.”

Cabel dusted himself off and rose to his full height. “I meant no disrespect,” he said sincerely. “I think we can coexist with humans. Showing them they’re capable of rebuilding their world might not be a bad thing, but I will always defer to your judgment.” He repeated himself. “I meant no disrespect.”

When I had struck him, Beast had whispered to finish the job. To kill him. That was Beast’s answer to everything. End it with murder. I shook my head, pulled him back with a few deep breaths, and let my control settle over us once more.

“I may need to kill her,” I said flatly. “It’ll be a sure thing if I give her a guided tour of our supplies and harvest.”

“Yes, sir,” he replied, with no understanding of why I had reacted the way I had.

Hell, even I wasn’t sure. I was doing everything I could not to kill her. Cabel’s suggestion, no matter how offhanded, would have taken the decision out of my hands. Marinah caused very mixed emotions inside me. This wasn’t good.

“Go make peace with your woman,” I added, my voice softening slightly. “The last thing we need is another Maylin, or you stuck living off carrots.”

He laughed, and the tension between us eased. Boot’s wife, Maylin, was infamous for being a handful.

I turned on my heel and headed back to my bike, where Beck waited, his frown as permanent as the scars on his face.

“Do you need me to kill Cabel?” Beck asked, his voice as flat and practical as ever.

That was the issue with Beck. He was too much like Beast. For both of them, the solution to every problem lay in bloodshed.

“No,” I said firmly. “And if you lay a hand on him without my consent, you’ll be joining the human as her second trainer.”

Beck grunted; a sound as noncommittal as it was begrudging.

As I climbed onto my bike, a fleeting thought crossed my mind, accompanied by a grimace. I couldn’t help but wonder how badly Boot’s first day as Marinah’s trainer was going.