Chapter 12
The foothills stretched ahead of them, dense enough to hide their movements as they tracked Kraath and Raaze.
Zeke breathed deep, his lungs filling with air that tasted like freedom and Michelle and everything he’d never thought he could have.
Wet stone and crushed pine needles mixed with thawing earth, but underneath it all was her. .. floral and female and all his.
Water dripped from branches overhead, the steady patter mixing with their footsteps on soggy ground.
The storm had passed, leaving behind brilliant morning light that turned puddles into mirrors.
His boots squelched through slush while somewhere above them a bird called out, sharp and clear after days of silence.
It was warm enough now that Michelle wouldn’t freeze to death. He glanced back at her, watching how she picked her way through the wet terrain. So damn small compared to him, so breakable. The thought should have worried him, but instead, possessive heat coiled in his gut.
She needed him. Needed his strength to navigate this mess, his body to shield her from danger.
He liked having to pull back his power around her, keeping the violence leashed so his touch stayed gentle when he helped her over obstacles.
Every moment required control, and draanth if that didn’t make him want her more.
But she wasn’t afraid of him. The truth settled in his bones, a lightness that made the climb easier.
He’d shown her exactly what he was—torn through ferals with his bare hands and claws, let the blood rage take him until he was more weapon than male.
She’d seen it all and still let him touch her.
Still cried out his name when he made her come.
Heat raced through him at the memory, his cock hardening.
He could still taste her, feel how her thighs had trembled against his shoulders when he’d woken her with his mouth this morning.
Those little sounds she made when he pushed inside her…
like she couldn’t decide whether to beg him to stop or never stop.
Those sounds were burned into his brain now.
Mine. The word purred in his blood, his legion content in ways it had never been. It had never been this quiet, this satisfied. They had a mate to protect.
He wanted to get her back to the garrison, somewhere safe with walls and weapons.
Then he wanted to lock his quarters and spend days learning every inch of her body.
He’d move her things from her room… she wouldn’t need a separate space anymore.
His bed would be their bed. His space would be their space.
And the medical excuse would work perfectly.
She needed monitoring for her injuries, needed someone to watch her recovery, so no one would question why she stayed in his quarters for weeks.
Plenty of time to make her scream his name until her voice went hoarse.
Plenty of time to fill her with his seed until she smelled like him inside and out.
She climbed ahead of him, and his gaze dropped to the sway of her hips in those leather pants. The way the material stretched across her ass with each step made his mouth water. He wanted to grab her, bend her over the nearest boulder, and claim her right here in the open air.
The climb got steep, loose rock shifting underfoot and he was forced to concentrate.
She was a few steps ahead when her boot slipped on wet stone.
He heard the scrape, saw her start to fall backward.
His hands shot out and caught her, pulling her back against his chest before she could tumble down the slope.
“Careful,” he growled against her ear, but instead of steadying her and letting go, he turned her in his arms until she faced him, her legs wrapping around his waist.
The position put them mouth to mouth, her breath mixing with his.
He kissed her because he couldn’t help himself.
Hard and claiming, one hand fisted in her hair while the other gripped her thigh.
His cock pressed hard against her core through their clothes, and if the draanthing leather wasn’t in the way, he’d be inside her in a heartbeat.
She made a soft sound against his lips that made him throb.
When he pulled back, her pupils were blown wide. “We should—”
“Should what?” He nipped at her lower lip, savoring how she shivered in his arms.
She didn’t answer, just kissed him again, fierce and hungry. They needed to keep moving, needed to track whatever the draanth Kraath was following into these hills. But his body didn’t give a trall about duty or mystery. His body wanted her under him, around him, taking everything he had to offer.
Forcing himself to set her down, he stepped back even though every instinct screamed at him to keep her close. He held her as she found her footing, and he had to bite back a growl at the loss of contact.
The tracks appeared again where the trail curved upward, and he forced his mind back to the present.
Multiple ferals moving through the canyon, their prints clear in the mud.
He started to rise, his mind already drifting to Michelle’s warmth behind him.
He took half a step before some primal part of his brain locked his muscles.
Dropping back to a crouch, his gaze snapped to the tracks.
What the draanth?
His nostrils flared as he sorted through the information. Ferals had a particular smell—rage and wildness and that thread of legion that marked them as infected. These tracks carried that scent, but different. Thicker somehow, layered with something he couldn’t identify.
There were smaller prints mixed in with the larger ones.
Youngsters, based on stride and depth. His shoulders tensed.
Feral children were rare… most who went feral young didn’t survive.
But these tracks suggested at least two juveniles traveling with adults.
And they weren’t hunting. Hunting packs spread out, doubled back to check for prey.
These ferals were traveling together, adults protecting young, moving toward some destination.
More threats to Michelle. That should have pissed him off, but the possessive current in his blood only grew stronger. She needed his protection. She was his to guard, his to keep safe.
They climbed higher, following both the feral tracks and the path Kraath and Raaze had taken. Trees thinned as elevation increased, giving them glimpses of the valley below.
The forest sounds faded gradually. Birds stopped calling. Insects went quiet. Even the drip of melting snow seemed to pause, leaving only their breathing and the shift of leather as they moved.
Every instinct screamed danger. Between one heartbeat and the next, Kraath and Raaze vanished from sight ahead of them. Not hidden—gone, like they’d never existed.
His legion responded instantly, armor flowing down over his forearms. Thick, black armor plating covered him from fingertips to elbows, every edge sharp enough to part flesh from bone. He stepped in front of Michelle, making himself a wall between her and whatever watched from the trees.
“You might as well come out.” The words emerged as a snarl. The sound rolled through the forest like thunder, carrying promises of violence to anything that threatened what belonged to him. “I know you’re there.”
Michelle's pulse went crazy the second Kraath and Raaze appeared through the trees.
Not because they'd found them—though that was awkward as hell. But because Zeke went full predator mode right in front of her. Black armor spread down his arms like spilled ink, and his shoulders bunched tight enough to snap steel.
Holy shit. The growl rumbling from his chest made her bones vibrate.
"Well, well." Raaze's voice dripped amusement. "Look what we found."
She stepped sideways through the slush, keeping Zeke's bulk between her and the other two. Her boots squelched in the mud, probably loud enough to wake the dead. So much for stealth.
Kraath's gaze dropped to her leg. To the torn leather where Zeke had cut her pants away from the cast and his eyes narrowed, tracking over the black shell covering her calf.
"Interesting." The word carried weight. "Legion armor? His symbiont casts for you?"
Her muscles locked up.
Shit. She hadn't thought about what the cast might reveal. Now that he'd pointed it out, she felt its warmth against her skin… a phantom pressure that reminded her of Zeke's hands on her body. Heat crawled up her neck.
Great. Just what she needed. A blush.
"She's mine." Zeke's voice was pure possession, and her stomach did this weird flip thing that was half heat, half unease. "My responsibility."
"How sweet." Raaze's grin was all teeth. "Baby feral learned to share his toys after all."
"Watch it," Zeke snarled.
Kraath straightened, already moving past the tension like it bored him. "We should keep moving. The tracks are fresh, but this terrain won't hold them long."
They fell into formation… Kraath leading, Raaze behind him, and Zeke keeping her glued to his side like she might evaporate. The foothills rose around them, all wet stone and pine smell. Her leg throbbed with each step, the cast helping but not fixing the deep ache in her bones.
"We're tracking northeast." Zeke's tone carried an edge. "Garrison's southeast."
"The ferals are heading deeper into the mountains." Kraath didn't turn around. "We need to ensure they're not gathering in large numbers."
She caught the way Zeke's jaw tightened. He didn't buy it any more than she did. But calling Kraath out would mean admitting they'd been following him.
Yeah, that conversation would go well.
Her breath came harder as they climbed. Her muscles burned, and sweat beaded down her spine despite the cool air. Three days of trauma and running were catching up fast.
"We need to stop." Zeke's hand found her back. "My mate needs rest."
My mate. The words sent heat straight through her.
"I'm fine," she started.
His fingers pressed against her spine. Message received. She shut up quick.
Kraath turned to assess her with those dark eyes. Whatever he saw made him nod. "There's a defensible position not far from here. Natural rock formation."
They found the spot within a few minutes… a hollow carved into the hillside, protected on three sides by stone. Kraath immediately started unpacking gear. Motion sensors appeared first, small silver discs he positioned around their perimeter.
"You came prepared," Raaze said, dropping his pack.
"Experience." Kraath activated some kind of energy shield between two trees. The barrier shimmered to life. "These territories don't forgive mistakes. I'll set the outer perimeter."
The second his footsteps faded, Raaze moved.
He went straight for Kraath's pack, hands already working the clasps. "Finally. That draanthic keeps too many secrets."
"Should you be doing that?" She asked, though she made no move to stop him.
"Someone should." Raaze yanked items out. "He's been lying since the storm. Probably before and I want to know why."
Zeke positioned himself to watch both the forest and Raaze's search. "Find anything useful?"
"Depends." Raaze held up a medical kit that looked way too advanced for field work. "Why does a garrison commander need healer-grade tech?" He stopped, head tilting. "Well, well, well. What do we have here?"
A leather notebook appeared, worn smooth from handling, its pages filled with neat script.
"Fucking code," he muttered. "Why can't he write like a normal person?"
She leaned closer, catching sight of the writing. Her breath caught.
"That's not code. That's Late English."
Both alien men turned to stare at her, Zeke's eyes narrowing to yellow slits.
"You can read this?"
She nodded, reaching for the book. Technical terms jumped out at her, mixed with observations. "I had to learn it for a project once." She frowned, reading slowly at first, then faster as it came back. "These are research notes. Genetic markers and..." She looked up. "This can't be right."
"What?" Zeke's voice went deadly quiet.
"According to this, he thinks there are female Izaean."
Raaze snatched the notebook back, flipping pages even though he couldn't read them. "I knew it. The tracks we've been following… some are female. Stride length, weight distribution, it's all there."
“Are you sure?” Zeke asked, arms folded over his broad chest.
The other feral fixed Zeke with a look. "I could follow a team through a monsoon and tell you what they had for breakfast three days ago, even without carrying a s’krav. These prints don't lie."
“A what?” She looked between them.
“A s’krav. It’s a ball. Raaze played warball," Zeke explained. "Before his blood rage manifested."
"Warball?"
"Warfare disguised as sport," Zeke said, moving closer until his warmth seeped through her damp clothes. "Teams hunt each other through hostile terrain."
"Fighting for a weighted sphere," Raaze added with savage pride. "Forty kilos of dead weight."
"So... rugby with hunting?"
"And significantly more violence," Raaze's grin showed too many teeth. "The other team is trying to break every bone in your body while you carry it. Tracking was my specialty."
"Which is why you know those tracks include females," she said, understanding clicking into place.
"Exactly. The pelvis structure affects gait, changes the angle of foot placement. Females carry weight differently, have different momentum patterns." He tapped the notebook. "Kraath knows it too. Has to, if he's been documenting them."
Footsteps sounded nearby and Raaze shoved the notebook back into the pack, arranging everything exactly as it had been. By the time the garrison commander emerged from the trees, they'd spread out around the hollow, looking like they'd been resting the entire time.
Her mind raced as Kraath checked his equipment, acting like nothing had changed. Female ferals shouldn't exist. Everyone knew all Latharian women died in the plague.
Yet here was proof Kraath had been keeping detailed notes in a language that supposedly died with Earth's last technological dark age.
She caught Zeke's eye, saw her own questions reflected in that yellow gaze. Whatever Kraath was hiding, they had to find out, along with whatever else was in that notebook.