Chapter 15 #2
I stepped into the stealth suit, the fabric molding itself to my body like a second skin.
My fingers found the activation button at the neck, and I pressed it.
The armor plating engaged with a series of mechanical whispers—chest plate, shoulder guards, and forearm shields.
Each piece locked into place with a satisfying click.
Beside me, Rickon fastened his own armor, his movements economical and practiced. Cristox checked his weapons, sliding knives into sheaths positioned along his thighs and forearms.
I secured my own blades—one at each thigh, another at my lower back, a smaller one tucked into my boot—then reached for the energy weapon.
My thumb found the charge indicator, and I watched the display glow a steady, reassuring green.
Full charge. Good. I holstered it at my hip, then grabbed the scanner and clipped it to my belt.
"Ready?" Rickon asked, his voice steady and calm despite the tightness around his eyes.
I nodded, forcing myself to breathe, to center my thoughts.
I couldn't afford to let rage cloud my judgment, couldn't let the fury burning in my chest consume my mind.
Harper needed me sharp, clearheaded, not reckless.
The males who had taken her were skilled—I'd seen ample evidence of their capabilities at the beach house. But we were better.
I returned to my own shuttle, my boots ringing softly against the deck plating as I climbed into the pilot's seat.
I lifted off, bringing my vessel into formation beside Rickon and Cristox, the two crafts cutting through the darkening sky.
During the flight, I studied the aerial photographs until every detail burned into my memory—calculating approach trajectories and fallback positions.
My eyes kept returning to the other image on the screen.
That of Declan Hewes, to the way he watched my mate with such naked hunger.
The arrogance radiating from his gaze, the way he regarded her as though she were already his possession, made something feral rise within me.
A low growl rumbled up from deep in my chest before I could suppress it.
Declan Hewes would die for daring to touch what was mine. Of that, I was absolutely certain.
The shuttles were ten times faster than any Earth aircraft, and we reached the island within minutes.
I followed Rickon's lead as he descended, bringing my shuttle down onto the soft sand at the far end of the island.
We touched down behind a stand of massive boulders that would hide our vessels from sight, the cloaking features keeping us practically invisible.
The island stretched before us, roughly a mile and a half from end to end.
Dense tropical vegetation covered most of the landscape, with palms and thick undergrowth creating natural cover.
At the northern tip, lights blazed from an elaborate compound.
A sprawling white-stone-and-glass mansion dominated the landscape, surrounded by several smaller outbuildings.
High walls ringed the entire complex, topped with barbed wire and security equipment that glinted in the artificial lighting.
The southern end where we'd landed was wild and untouched, nothing but sand, rock formations, and the whisper of waves against the shore.
It didn't appear the hurricane had come near this place.
We exited the shuttles into complete darkness, the cloaking fields humming softly around us.
I moved in single file behind Rickon, my boots sinking into the sand with each step.
We followed the curve of the beach until a jagged break in the rocks revealed itself—a natural stairway of stone worn smooth by centuries of wind and water.
I climbed, my fingers finding purchase on the rough surface, hauling myself up until I crested the top of a hillside.
From this vantage point, the entire compound spread out before us.
Every building and wall was illuminated by harsh security lighting that carved sharp shadows across the grounds.
Cristox dropped to one knee beside me, pulling the scanner from his belt. The device cast a faint blue glow as he swept it methodically across the beach, the compound, and finally the dark water surrounding the island.
His expression darkened. "Multiple energy signatures—cloaked vessels, at least three of them, Trogvyk design."
The confirmation settled into my gut like a stone, though I felt no surprise. The Trogvyk had made a profitable business of human abduction; their involvement was almost inevitable.
"How many?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. The scanner Cristox held was sophisticated enough to differentiate between the energy signatures of different species, reading the subtle variations in their biological fields.
"About a dozen Trogvyk," he murmured, his eyes tracking the data streaming across his display. "Spread throughout the grounds. Another dozen human soldiers patrolling the perimeter and manning the guard posts."
He shifted the scanner's focus to one of the outbuildings, a squat structure near the eastern wall of the mansion. The device emitted a soft chirp as it locked onto something. "There." He lifted one thick finger, pointing toward the building. "I'm reading about a dozen humans. Captives, maybe?"
My chest constricted, ribs tightening around my lungs. “Harper?”
“I’m not reading her tracker there,” Cristox mumbled, frowning at the device.
I was not surprised. From the way Declan coveted Harper in that photo, he thought her special and would treat her as such. "And the house?"
Cristox adjusted the scanner's parameters, narrowing its focus on the mansion itself.
The device swept across the sprawling structure, floor by floor.
"Six humans inside. Most concentrated on the ground floor.
But there's one..." He paused, his fingers dancing across the controls as he zoomed in on the screen.
"Second floor, west wing. Isolated from the others, and the tracker you placed is nearby. "
I didn't need him to say more. Every instinct in my body screamed that it was Harper, a certainty that went beyond logic or reason.
I felt her presence like a physical pull in my chest, an invisible thread connecting us across the distance.
The wind shifted then, carrying with it the salt spray of the ocean and something else—the faintest trace of her scent.
Floral and sweet and something uniquely and unmistakably her.
"That's Harper," I said, my voice rough with certainty.
I reached for my cuddwisg device, my fingers finding the controls by touch alone.
The familiar tingle of the technology washed over my skin like a wave of static electricity as my appearance reformed.
Where moments before I'd appeared human, I now took on the features of a Trogvyk—a species my captain's mate had once said resembled something she called a hairless cat.
Beside me, Rickon and Cristox activated their own devices, forms rippling and changing until we were indistinguishable from the enemy.
"Remember," Rickon said quietly, "we move fast and silent. No bodies left where they can be found."
We descended from the hillside, our movements fluid and practiced as we slipped through the perimeter defenses.
The first Trogvyk never saw us coming. He stood near a cluster of palm trees, gaze fixed on the water.
Cristox moved like liquid shadow, closing the distance in three silent strides.
His blade found the guard's throat before the creature could draw breath to scream.
We dragged the body into the thick undergrowth, arranging heavy fronds over it until nothing remained visible.
Two human guards patrolling the eastern wall went down next—Rickon's work, quick and brutally efficient. I helped him drag their bodies behind a maintenance shed, arranging equipment and supply crates to hide them from view.
Another Trogvyk near an outbuilding, his back turned as he examined something on a datapad. A human soldier by the generator building, his rifle slung carelessly over his shoulder. One by one, we eliminated the outer defenses, working our way toward the mansion in a tightening spiral.
Finally, we reached the shadow of the mansion itself, pressing our backs against the cool white stone. My heart hammered against my ribs, adrenaline singing through my veins.
"I'll stand guard," Rickon said, positioning himself at the corner where he could watch both approaches—the path from the beach and the route leading to the front entrance.
"I'm going to check on those captives," Cristox said, nodding toward the outbuilding where the scanner had detected the cluster of humans. "See what we're dealing with. If they're prisoners, we'll need to factor them into the extraction."
I glanced up at the east wing, at the darkened window where I knew Harper waited, perhaps sleeping, perhaps afraid. The pull in my chest intensified, becoming almost painful in its urgency. "I'm going to get my mate."
I slipped through a side entrance, easing the door open just wide enough to slide through before closing it silently behind me.
My footsteps made no sound on the polished marble floors, the stealth suit's design absorbing even the whisper of movement.
The house was obscenely opulent, excessive in every detail.
It was the kind of wealth humans displayed to prove their dominance over others and establish a place in the hierarchy of their species.
But my eyes swept over the luxury without truly seeing it.
Every sense focused on Harper, attuned to her presence.
I could feel her now, the pull growing stronger with each step I took.
The bond between us drew me toward her like a compass finding true north, an inexorable force that nothing and no one could stop.