Chapter Thirty-Two
Elaina
Four days prior, I would have loved an uninterrupted afternoon in the Archives, but after three in a row… I couldn’t read a damn word.
I tried to translate the line in front of me for what had to be the sixth time, determined to make the collection of Morraki symbols turn into something meaningful.
Rhae. All. That one was easy.
The next word contained a root I recognized as well, but every time I started working through the modifiers around it, something creaked in the distance and my attention snapped away.
Nothing.
Again.
I blew out a slow breath and forced my eyes back to the page.
This was ridiculous. I was sitting in a room filled with books written in an alien language I was actually learning to read. A few months ago, I would have committed crimes for an opportunity like this.
Now I was committing crimes against linguistics by reading the same sentence over and over while waiting for someone to try to kill me.
My gaze drifted toward the door I could see from my seat at the table.
Empty.
The rebels were apparently the most inconsiderate terrorists in the galaxy. We’d spent four days making it painfully obvious that I came here every afternoon, and that Drazien ran off to give his report to Rhydek during that time.
Four days of eating lunch in the Cavern Markets before walking through Korvashan together.
Four days of him leaving me behind, despite the pain it caused us both during that brief time when he made sure he was seen elsewhere before circling back.
Four days of me sitting in the same seat while the Archives remained suspiciously empty.
It was four days too many of absolutely nothing happening, and my patience was wearing thin.
I shifted in my chair and resisted the urge to look toward the back corner. Drazien was there, somewhere. I could sense it.
The feeling should have been reassuring, and it was.
Mostly.
I just hated that I couldn’t smell him.
Shyrek turned out to be every bit as difficult to find as Drazien had claimed. I still didn’t know where he’d gotten it, and I suspected I didn’t want to know. The thick oil had a faint mineral smell when he first applied it, but within minutes, even that disappeared.
Along with him.
The first time he’d used it I’d stood with my nose against his chest trying to find some trace of the scent I associated with him, upset in a way I couldn’t fully explain. He’d found it hilarious.
I had not.
The bond told me he was close, but it wasn’t a tracking device. I couldn’t close my eyes and point to exactly where Drazien was hiding, but I could feel the low thrum of his emotions beneath my own tugging me in one direction.
He was growing as impatient as I was, and it was a relief knowing I wasn’t the only one sick of waiting. He couldn’t hide his discomfort, or his irritation over the fact that our trap had yet to be sprung.
Had we made it too obvious?
That last thought made me grimace. The plan had sounded so much simpler when we made it, but we hadn’t accounted for the rebels missing the memo that they were supposed to attack me. We had expected them to take the opportunity to finish what they’d started at the first chance.
Or at least the second.
Definitely by the third…
I was in a secluded place, alone.
Except I wasn’t nearly as vulnerable as I appeared, and we were starting to think they knew what we’d planned. Drazien said he trusted the warriors of the unit he commanded, and besides Rhydek, no one else knew the entire plan.
Drazien remained hidden in the ventilation passage.
Warriors waited beyond both exits, far enough away that the rebels shouldn’t notice them, but they were growing bored.
Others watched the passages behind the Archives in case someone attempted to breach a wall, but if something didn’t happen soon, it would become too obvious that they were lingering.
Every possible escape route was covered. We’d planned for everything, except for no one to take the bait.
We had discussed changing the plan, finding a different location, but neither of us liked the idea. The Archives were the perfect place, where it was less likely that others would get involved. Everyone involved knew their role, which meant something would end up going wrong if we changed anything.
I frowned at the book. The thoughts circling my head were not helpful, but I couldn’t seem to banish them and focus.
Going back to the top of the page, I started again. I made it through two full paragraphs, then three.
My irritation faded as the patterns started fitting together.
The text was older than most of what Drazien had used to teach me, but it was a simple story frequently used to teach young Morraki to read.
It was a legend about a greedy serpent, and the more I read, the more it pulled me in until footsteps caught my attention.
The Archives were open for any to browse through, although the keepers who tended the scrolls and books were the only others I’d ever seen there. There were also other places along the tunnel that were frequented.
The Council Hall.
A small room where warriors injured during training were sent for treatment.
But still…
The footsteps grew louder and I lowered my eyes.
Read.
That was what I was supposed to do. I was supposed to be so lost in translating the text that I didn’t notice anything else. Someone who didn't know she was bait wouldn't stare at every person who entered the room.
I found my place again.
Rhae...
Damn it.
The footsteps slowed, then entered the room. I could feel my heartbeat in my throat, and the lump there made it hard to swallow.
A shadow moved across the opposite side of the table.
I had learned that Morraki did not greet strangers in public the way Humans considered polite.
At most the alphas nodded to one another when passing, but betas tended to keep their heads down so that they went unnoticed, so I wasn’t surprised the person didn’t say anything.
I peeked up from the corner of my eye. A Morraki alpha stood on the other side of the table, his eyes on my neck.
The marks Drazien had left were impossible to miss, especially since we'd deliberately chosen my clothing to leave them exposed. Staring at the marks didn’t make the male a rebel, but he stared a bit too long, his brows creasing the longer he stood there.
Then his gaze moved down to the scroll in front of me, his frown growing obvious.
“Karzhak veshakar dravakh’hesh.”
I blinked, lifting my head to meet his green eyes. I didn’t fully understand what he’d said, but dravakh meant trouble or danger.
“Dravakh?”
I couldn’t tell if he was asking me if I was having trouble, or if he was saying that reading was dangerous?
Or that me reading was dangerous.
His eyes narrowed, his expression distinctly unwelcoming, but I tried to remind myself that didn’t mean he wanted to hurt me.
It was hard to convince my heart of that. His arrival here, now, was too suspicious.
I tried switching to Common since I’d been assured most Morraki spoke it.
“I'm trying to learn.”
His expression didn't change but his kethra flashed, a brief flare of orange. My pulse hammered and it was hard to hear anything over the pounding in my ears, and it didn’t help that when I tried to reach for Drazien in the bond, what I felt was cold and hard.
Was this one of them?
I couldn't give any indication that the encounter bothered me, so I lowered my head once more and pretended to keep reading. The male remained standing across from me, making me more certain by the moment that this was it.
Finally.
It was strange to feel relief when there was a good chance I was in danger, but at least the waiting would be over if I was right.
A sense of pressure came through the bond. It wasn’t quite reassurance, but my chest loosened with the knowledge that Drazien was aware of what was going on.
That I wasn’t alone.
I moved the narrow strip of fabric I'd been using to mark my place from the right side of the book to the left and reached below the table as if I had an itch on my leg. The movement allowed me to loosen the blade strapped to my thigh, so I’d be able to grab it if needed.
I hated waiting without knowing what to do. If another Human man had lingered that long, staring, I’d have confronted him, but that would be the wrong move with a Morraki alpha. Especially since omegas were supposed to be a mostly submissive dynamic.
The alpha finally shifted away, but he was still within lunging distance, so I knew I wasn’t out of danger. I forced myself to turn another page even as I heard footsteps again.
I couldn’t help glancing up as another male entered, gaze finding me as if he’d known I would be there.
My stomach tightened.
He turned his head and walked toward one of the shelves along the far wall, examining the scrolls as if he needed a specific one.
I stared down at my book again, struggling to keep my kethra under control.
Just when I’d gotten used to the silver crescents I’d woken with on the ship after my injection, they’d changed to match Drazien’s violet lightning branches, and it was more noticeable when they shifted towards blue with my emotions.
There was no one else in the Archives with us. That was part of the plan, but it still made my fingers tighten around the edge of the hide.
Breathe.
Observe.
Don't decide what something means before you have enough information.
It was something that had been drilled into me during training, but it was harder when I knew these alphas had already tried to kill me once.
I slowly released the scroll before I tore it. The new Morraki moved as if searching the shelves, but he never took anything from them. He was pretending just as much as I was.
I fingered the strip of fabric on the table, trying to stay calm. Something pulsed through the bond, reminding me I wasn’t alone, but would Drazien be fast enough to save me if these two decided to attack? He was there, and we had prepared as much as we could, but too much was up to chance.