Chapter 23 - Prax
I’m almost there. As soon as the first housing units come into view, I stick close to the tree line to avoid being seen. Based on the intel I gathered before leaving, the administrative center is that massive complex about a hundred yards ahead. It’s even larger than the one in Cydonia.
I sneak around the back and focus on analyzing every scent. I can faintly pick up my mate’s soft fragrance, but there are other people too. There’s a definite trace of blood, but thank the stars, none of it is Neela’s.
I thoroughly inspect the rear facade of the building and find a bunch of footprints.
What grabs my attention are the tire marks—big ones, from a heavy-duty off-road vehicle that left fresh tracks in the muddy ground.
They must’ve loaded something—or someone—from the back and drove off toward the restricted zones.
Whatever their shady business is, I don’t care. My priority is to find Neela. I have to get inside that compound.
I stash my bag behind a rock and arm myself with both my pistoblasters. I resist the urge to switch them to kill mode and instead set them to wide-field stun.
I head back to the rear entrance and trigger the dematerialization system to slip into the decision-making lair of Arabia Terra.
I slide in quietly. First hurdle crossed. Now comes the hard part—finding Neela in this maze of identical rooms. This room smells like a whole pack of people, including my mate, some canines, and others I don’t know. Unfortunately, it’s empty.
The next one, though, isn’t. Two men are chatting casually inside. I creep in and take the first out with a precise strike to the neck, then stun the second before he can make a sound. A quick scan of the room tells me nothing useful. No clue where they took her.
Then I find myself in a dimly lit corridor. I move carefully, ears perked, nose twitching for any scent that could guide me. Where the hell did they stash their prisoners?
At each intersection, I peek around the corner and press on, dropping anyone I come across with clean stun shots. I can’t linger—once the stun wears off, the alarm will spread. Still, no trace of Neela.
Suddenly, I catch the iron tang of human blood wafting from the far end of the hallway.
I pick up speed and enter what looks like an incineration room.
A human is shoving a body into the furnace.
I stop him cold and grab him by the throat, squeezing just enough to cut off some of his airflow.
He claws at my hands, but he’s no match for me.
“Keep struggling and I’ll extend the claws,” I growl.
He freezes immediately, eyes wide with panic.
I scan the room quickly. Aside from the one he was about to roast, there’s another corpse laid out on a table. So that’s the blood I smelled. Unfortunately, the stench is too strong now for me to be certain Neela’s not among them. But both of these people were clearly murdered.
“How many have you tossed into that thing?” I ask, tightening my grip slightly.
The guy is petrified, barely coherent.
“You’d better answer properly before I lose my patience,” I snarl, letting one claw just barely pierce his skin.
He gasps and holds up four fingers.
“See? That wasn’t so hard,” I hiss. “Now, tell me—was one of them a woman?”
He shakes his head frantically and wheezes out a barely audible “No.” Relief floods me. At least Neela isn’t one of the poor souls he’s already disposed of.
I should move on—but first, I need to decide what to do with him. So far, I haven’t killed anyone. I’ve only incapacitated those I’ve run into—because for all I knew, they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. But this guy? No gray area. He’s the one making the bodies disappear.
I’m not bound by Neela’s precious Pact. I’m a proud Sadjim, and this human won’t be shown mercy. Like any good feline, I feel a flicker of temptation to toy with him first, but I don’t have time for games.
With my hand still clamped around his throat, I extend my claws fully, slicing straight into a major artery. His thick, crimson blood spurts violently, soaking my glove and chest plate. I let him drop and watch him bleed out without a flicker of emotion. It’s over in seconds.
I shove his corpse into the incinerator drawer he had prepared and head off to rinse the sticky gore from my hands. Oddly enough, his scent didn’t even stir my appetite—not even a twitch. Maybe I just prefer my prey… unspoiled.
I resume my search, frustrated beyond measure at not finding Neela. I check every room—interrupting everything from strategy meetings to awkward hookups.
By the time I circle back to my entry point, the truth sinks in: Neela isn’t here.
I return to the spot outside where I first picked up her faint trail, near the vehicle. Damn it. I wasted a whole hour searching this place when I could’ve been tracking that truck she was clearly loaded into.
Alright, no point beating myself up over what’s already done. I leave the building, grab my gear, and head out after that damn truck.
I reach the cover of the trees and trot in the same direction the vehicle took. I can’t speed up much—every step is a brutal reminder of yesterday’s fall. Still, I allow myself a few shortcuts where the truck has to wind around rocks or patches of trees.
When I finally leave the outskirts of the settlement, I briefly hit the main road just to make sure I’m not chasing a ghost. But the scent trail from inside the truck is faint, nearly drowned out by the smells of lichens and shrubs all around.
I’ve got no choice but to keep going and pray I’m not heading away from my mate.
The farther I go, the more anxious I get. I push my pace past what’s reasonable—sunset isn’t far off, and I doubt they’d choose to spend the night outside. That truck has a destination, and it’ll want to reach it before dark.
Suddenly, a faint scent hits me: blood, up ahead.
I pick up speed. I’d know that sweet scent anywhere—Neela’s. My heart slams against my ribs. If she’s hurt, if they’ve done anything to her—
I burst into a clearing. Tracks everywhere.
And in the middle, a dark, rusty puddle where blood has soaked into the earth and moss, forming a coppery sludge.
Judging by the amount spilled, whoever it belonged to probably didn’t survive.
And given the strong trace of my companion’s scent here… it could be hers.
I snap.
Images flood my mind—Neela’s lifeless body tossed aside like nothing. If they’ve harmed her, I’ll hunt them all down and make them pay. Slowly. Painfully. I’ll make them wish they hadn’t crossed a Sadjim.
I inhale sharply. Exhale.
Again.
Control, Prax. Focus.
I shut my eyes, pushing aside emotion and tuning into sensation.
The clearing is silent, save for the rustle of small animals nearby—proof that no other predators linger.
I sniff again, carefully this time, filtering through layers of scent: humans, dogs, something unfamiliar… and Neela. Pallas, too.
I hone in on their trail—veering right, beyond the clearing. I open my eyes slowly and scan the edge of the brush. Broken branches. A few tufts of fur snagged on a twig. I pick one up and bring it to my nose: Pallas. My little manul went that way, and he wasn’t alone.
A deep sigh escapes me. They got away. That blood—it wasn’t hers. She escaped. Probably during a stop. Someone else died here.
I don’t care who.
I just need to find her.
I move cautiously through the underbrush—too cautiously for my liking. But Pallas, clearly shaken, has sprayed enough pheromones to light up the whole damn forest.
When I finally find them, the relief hits me like a tidal wave.
Neela is curled up beneath a tree, arms wrapped around herself for warmth, dozing lightly. Pallas, ever alert, rises when he hears me, puffing up his fur and letting out a deep growl to warn me off.
Good boy.
Even at his age, he’s already got guts. He’s protecting her.
I growl low in my throat—a Sadjim gesture of approval. That’s enough for him. He rushes me and showers me with licks and rumbling purrs. I’m happy to see him, but my eyes are on her.
“Neela?” I whisper, kneeling beside her. “Wake up, Purrsong. We need to find shelter before nightfall.”
She jolts, recoiling slightly as I lay my hands on her shoulders.
“Prax? But… I saw you die!” she gasps, her voice trembling.
“Clearly, I didn’t.” A laugh catches in my throat. “Tell me how you’re feeling. What did those bastards do to you?”
“You’re alive. You’re alive!” she keeps repeating, tears now streaming freely down her cheeks.
I gather her into my arms, rocking her gently, doing what I can to soothe her.
“I’m okay, love. Really. It takes more than a little fall to kill a proud Sadjim. Stop crying—save your fluids. We’ll need to find water later. And shelter.”
I’ve got my waterproof cocoon stashed away, but I’d prefer to hole up somewhere more secure. Somewhere private. I do plan to refresh my scent behind her ears before long.
While holding her close, I scan the surroundings. A small rocky outcrop catches my eye—maybe three hundred feet away, a modest elevation, but promising.
“I’m so relieved,” she murmurs, brushing herself off and rising. “When Anatoli threw you off the ledge… I thought you were gone. No human would’ve survived that.”
“Well, I’m not human. I’ve got a few scrapes that might leave scars in my magnificent fur, but hey—what matters is we’re together. Come on, let’s check that outcrop for shelter.”
“Oh gods… by Ares, I killed an innocent man!” she blurts, suddenly panicked.
“What? What are you talking about?”
“Anatoli! I killed him! And then I just ran off with Pallas without even trying to help him!”
So that’s whose blood that was.
Damn, that’s my girl. She overcame her fears and fought her way out. I couldn’t be prouder.
“Let me be clear—Anatoli was anything but innocent. I went to the admin center first, and I’m sorry to report their incinerator room’s mainly used to cover up murders. There were bodies stacked by the door. Anatoli tried to kill me—and Hans. He got exactly what he deserved.”
“Hans? Is he okay?” she asks as we reach the base of the rocky outcrop, maybe thirty feet tall at most.
“Lucky I found him before nightfall. Constantin knocked him out and left him lying in the dirt. But don’t worry—he bounced back after some rest. Look—see that cave up there?” I point to a dark hollow about ten feet off the ground.
She stops and lifts her eyes toward the opening.
“Don’t move. I’ll go check it out. Make sure we’re not invading someone’s den.”
“If you ask me, I doubt a bear made it up there. I’m more worried about us making it up,” she says with a pout.
“Oh, ye of little faith,” I grin, and leap.
Thirty seconds later, I’m inside. The cave is small, entrance a little low, but roomy enough inside to sit up. Perfect for the night. We’ll be sheltered from predators—both four-legged and two.
I jump down, scoop up Pallas and plop him into Neela’s arms, then wrap my own around her waist and launch upward.
She lets out a tiny yelp of surprise, but we’re in.
Good thing, too—my ribs are not happy about it.
I grit my teeth, wait for the pain to subside, while Neela takes stock of our shelter.
She finishes her inspection quickly and turns to me.
“And now?” she asks, lifting those gorgeous eyes to mine.
“And now?” I echo, stepping closer. “I’m going to do what I’ve been burning to do since the moment I found you.”
“What’s that?” she asks innocently.
I cradle her face in both hands and press my lips to hers.
It’s only been two days, but it feels like I’ve been starved for her kiss forever.
I drink her in like nothing else matters.
She kisses me back, urgently, her hands roaming over my arms and chest. Our breaths mingle, fuse.
My mind blanks. All I want is to make her mine again.
I grab the zipper of her suit and pull it down clumsily. I start baring her shoulders, but stop cold when I realize she’s shivering from cold, not desire.
“Idiot,” I mutter. “Sun’s down, and the chill’s setting in. Hang on. Let me get the cocoon set up.”
Two minutes later, we’re curled up inside. Pallas is curled just outside the entrance, guarding us.
Once we’re lying down, I pick up exactly where I left off. I finish undressing her, gently, checking along the way that she’s not hiding any injuries. My hands and eyes confirm what I hoped: she’s fine. That’s all I need to know for now.
Her fingers trace my abs, then sweep up to my shoulders. I trail kisses down her skin, soft and hairless, each flick of my tongue sending shivers through her—not from the cold this time.
“You’re purring,” she whispers, stifling a laugh.
“It’s a physiological reflex for Sadjims. The vibrations we make with our larynx trigger endorphin release.”
“I don’t mind,” she murmurs. “Actually… I think it might be working on me too.”
“Oh really? Let’s test that theory,” I purr, and dive back in.
Bit by bit, I erase the world around us. I kiss her skin, suck gently, stroke every inch of her with mouth and hands and murmured promises. My tongue demands responses—and gets them.
“Prax…” she gasps, arching toward me, desperate.
I roll us over, spread her legs with my knee, pin her hands above her head. Then I press down, pinning her under me completely. The moment is universal—on any world, in any species—her hips begin a slow, inviting roll. She's ready.
With a low growl, I finally surrender to the pull I’ve been resisting. I take her with slow, deep strokes, savoring every moment of our reunion. Our bodies move in perfect sync—until she demands more. And I give it.
I let go of all restraint and drown in her. She's glorious in the throes of passion, consumed by the fire we've reignited. I interlace my fingers with hers and guide her to the edge—and far beyond.
Her cheeks are flushed, lips swollen, eyes gleaming even in the low light of our cocoon. And all I can think is: she bears my mark. That thought alone sends a wave of satisfaction through me.
We’re together. We’re safe. For now.
Sleep takes us both swiftly.
Tomorrow… is another day.