CHAPTER 3
K aelyn crept over the rock, her hands gripping the rough edge. Eyes narrowing, she surveyed her surroundings. Trees blended into the dark forest. A light mist traveled between the old growth sentinels turning them into macabre creatures with long pointy nails, not unlike her new partners, the Gossum.
She clenched her jaw and took a deep breath. Salty and cool, the cleansing air was a welcome relief, and she closed her eyes to enjoy the momentary reprieve.
The familiar, clipped tone of Theron’s whistle pierced the air. She tensed.
They weren’t alone.
She gripped the whistle dangling from the chain around her throat, her fingers trailing over the hand-carved bear’s head and brought it to her lips. With practiced skill, she placed her fingers over the holes in the bear’s ears and blew. The shrill tone of her reply echoed into the night.
She slid down the rock’s slick surface and landed on a pile of ferns. The fronds bent under her weight. Silent and quick, she padded between the trees, her fingers loose around the handle of her mace.
Through patches of fog, moonlight sliced between the trees, providing enough of a glow to catch shadows moving in the distance. A Gossum. Once human, the creature’s bald head, now devoid of hair, shined in the moon’s rays. With pointed claws and a long barbed tongue, the ugly creature slinked further into the forest. She curled her lip.
There were five members in tonight’s unit, two Gossum and three Ursus, including her uncle Theron and herself. Their assignment—search for Alora’s troops along the coast.
Damp. Dreary. Dismal.
What a wet mess. Thanks, Mauree.
That was how the bitch doled out punishment. Kaelyn clenched her jaw. So be it.
A twig snapped.
Screeee…
The eerie cry sent a shiver over Kaelyn’s shoulders.
From behind a tree, a large male raced toward one of the Gossum, his sword raised above his shoulder. Because of the dark clothes he wore, she tracked him by the moonlight glinting off the blade. He moved with a swift, silent grace. A tendril of respect for her enemy churned in her gut.
No matter. She had a job to do.
On quiet feet, she pursued the male, her unrelenting need to battle for her god, Zedron, urging her forward.
The Gossum hissed, the sound snaking between the trees like the mist. He extended his claws and launched himself at the intruder.
Kaelyn drew closer. She yanked her mace from her belt.
Nearer now, the male’s form became clear. Tall and broad, he wore dark pants, boots, and a dark shirt, golden armbands gracing his forearms. Beneath his shirt, his muscles flexed as he moved. With the ease of a trained warrior, he sliced his sword across the Gossum’s arm.
The creature howled in pain. Blood spurted from the amputated end.
The Gossum snapped its long tongue at the male’s face, but he jerked in time to avoid the barbed tip, angling toward her.
She got a good look at him. Brown hair, cut short around the ears, accentuated his strong jaw and chiseled face, but couldn’t hide his most striking feature, the scar that ran from his cheek, over his lips, and down his chin.
It’s him. The male who touched me.
Kaelyn stopped in her tracks. The mace grew heavy in her hand.
As if her fingers had a mind of their own, they traced a path down her cheek, just like he’d done during their last battle.
Her pulse quickened. Heat raced up her neck.
Rage… Desire…
The conflicting emotions spurred her forward. She twirled her mace.
With one quick thrust, the male scored the tip of his blade deep into the Gossum’s chest. The creature stilled then slid to the forest floor in a pile of black sludge.
She attacked, the whoosh of the mace her only warning.
He blocked her blow with his sword. His gaze narrowed then widened.
For the briefest moment, Kaelyn thought she saw a spark of something in his eyes. Relief? Happiness?
No. How could that be? He was the enemy…wasn’t he?
She glanced at his fingers curled around the hilt of his sword. Rough, strong, steady.
Her chest tightened. Deep inside, she longed to feel his touch once again. How long had it been since she’d allowed a male to touch her that way? Decades.
Surging anger sent a rush of hot adrenaline to her muscles. Using the energy, she cried out and swung her mace at his head.
He blocked her blows, again and again, but never attacked her, only defended himself.
“Fight, damn you!” She hurled the words at him.
“Tell me your name.”
She swung at him again and missed. Not possible. She was an excellent warrior, one of the best in her Tribe.
Maybe he was just that good. I hope so.
Her breath caught in her throat at her errant thought. He was the enemy. He needed to die.
She whipped her mace over her head. He held her fixated, his blue eyes swirling with bits of amber. So beautiful…
He thrust his sword, catching the chain in her mace.
Her weapon flew from her grasp.
Faster than she would’ve thought possible, he yanked her arm behind her and pinned her to him back to front. The tip of his blade lay against her throat, his arm resting between her breasts.
“Tell me your name.” His breath cascaded over her throat, warm and demanding.
She squirmed in his embrace, but all she did was rub against the hard planes of his chest and abdomen. The bare skin on her arms prickled from the friction.
He tugged her closer against him. His scent of pepper and lime infiltrated her senses, sending a heady rush of desire through her. She quivered in his arms.
“I’m not going to harm you.” His voice was low, controlled.
That he thought she shivered from fear sent a new round of anger into her bloodstream. She renewed her efforts to free herself. Elongating her claws, she tried to scratch him, but he had her pinned, and her claws scraped the thin air between them. Any closer and she’d snag his balls.
Her mind wandered to places it shouldn’t go, like what it would feel like to cup him in her palms.
She cried out in frustration.
“This is the third and last time I’m going to ask you this. Don’t make me ask again. What is your name?” Despite his threat, his tight grip was warm and comforting. He could kill her in a heartbeat, yet, he hadn’t.
The question burned in her mind. “My name is Kaelyn. Why haven’t you killed me?”
“Kaelyn, Kaelyn.” Her name rolled off his tongue, deep and sensual.
She wanted to hear him say it again. Irritation beat in her chest, fluttering like a trapped bird. “Let me go.”
He removed the tip of the blade from her throat and spun her to face him. “Craya. What do you—”
She slapped her open palm against his cheek. The sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed in the space between them.
He narrowed his gaze. His cheek reddened, and her attention drew to his scar. “Take a good long look.” The set of his jaw was dark, predatory.
She refused to look away. Instead, she raised her chin. “I’m not afraid of you.”
Amber flecks swirled in his eyes intermixing with the blue. “You should be.”
She wasn’t. He’d been too gentle. His words didn’t match his actions.
Theron’s frantic whistle pierced the air. The message was clear—run.
She didn’t hesitate. With a quickness born of her species, she morphed into her bear, clothes disappearing beneath her fur. She bolted through the trees, eager to put distance between herself and this male that had unbalanced her with his touch, his voice, and his deep blue eyes.
Against her better judgment telling her not to glance behind her, she couldn’t stop herself.
He was in hot pursuit, her mace clasped in his grip.
Damn.
Her only hope—outrun him.
Saar’s pulse pounded. He pursued Kaelyn through the forest. The memory of her at the battle at Roan’s Rock haunted him night and day. While trapping her in his embrace, his fingers had caressed her soft skin and they twitched with his need to touch her again.
He jumped over a fallen log, and his boots squished into the moist earth. The earlier mist cleared, revealing bright moonlight. Soft and enticing, the moon’s rays penetrated between the trees, lighting up the path. The route she took headed toward the ocean. He needed to catch her before she arrived and escaped him.
What he’d do if he caught her again, he wasn’t sure. She was the enemy. By all rights, he should’ve killed her when he’d had the chance.
He clenched his jaw.
Another mistake? Just what he didn’t need. He was racking those up like they were pieces of excrement stuck to his boots. Doubling his effort, he plunged through a patch of thick blackberries, the dead vines catching on his pants, his shirt, his bare skin. He didn’t care.
Another blemish wouldn’t change anything. His scar said it all. As much as others heralded him for his tenacity, skill, and leadership on the battlefield, he wasn’t perfect and that stuck in his craw.
When she’d glanced at his scar, he’d goaded her, trying to fill her with unease at the grotesque blemish. Kaelyn hadn’t looked away. A tightness wrapped around his chest, squeezing the air from his lungs.
His concentration drew to his target. Her dark fur blended in with her surroundings, but with his night vision, he spotted her movements with ease. She slowed and raised her head. Her snout quivered as if she scented the air. Soft grunts burst from her, and she increased her pace.
Encumbered in his human form, he didn’t give up. There was no way he’d shift into his beast. He refused to take that risk.
Moonlight shone through the trees. Only a few yards in front of him, Kaelyn was almost to the cliffside.
She skidded to a stop and swiveled to face him. A few small stones slid over the edge and pinged against the rocks. Waves crashed below.
Saar stepped from the trees. His boots crunched against the tiny pebbles that littered the moist dirt.
Still in bear form with dark fur and long claws, her breath eased from her mouth in puffs of steam. She lumbered to and fro, assessing him.
“Kaelyn…” What could he say to her? They were enemies. He swallowed the bile that rose in his throat.
She stood on her hind legs, jagged claws extending from her front paws. A low chuff eased from her lips. A warning.
Before he could think better of his decision, he tossed her mace on the ground at her feet. “Your weapon. Now, we’re even.”
Morphing into her human form, her clothes reformed onto her body. Dressed in a tight-fitting dark shirt and black pants, she was tall, built strong and tough. Luscious, with curves a male could get used to touching, she bent down to pick up her mace. Her focus never leaving his, her brow furrowed. “Why would you return a weapon to your enemy? I’d never make that blunder.”
A mistake… Her words hit home harder than he cared to admit. Not wanting her to know how much she’d affected him, he smiled. “I rather like your spunk. You’re fun to play with.”
“Yeah, right.” She twirled her mace above her head, the spiked ball whooshing through the air, faster and faster.
Raising his sword, he prepared to defend himself. His heart beat with anticipation. He looked forward to stripping her of her weapon once again.
Kaelyn scrunched her brows. Perfect and full, her lips pouted as she focused on him. The sudden urge to wrap her in his arms and kiss her overwhelmed him.
He lowered his sword.
She blinked and lost control over her mace. It twirled in a strange arc, as if it had a life of its own. Unable to maintain her balance, she took a step back. The weapon tore from her fingers, soaring over the abyss behind her.
“Wait! Stop!” He shouted.
Her foot slipped. She fell. A scream ripped from her throat.
Saar launched himself at her, arms outstretched.
Her fingers clawed at the small tufts of grass lining the edge of the cliff then she disappeared over the side.
His stomach heaved into his chest. He was too late.
She was gone.
He rushed to the edge and looked over the rim.
She lay against the boulders at the bottom of the cliff, arms and legs sprawled over the rocks at odd angles.
She’s alive. Relief flitted over his nerves.
If she’d died, she would’ve turned to sand. In the battle at Roan’s Rock he’d killed an Ursus, and the bear had turned to sand like a Stiyaha not sludge like the Gossum.
She’s not the enemy. She can’t be. He wouldn’t believe otherwise.
A new resolve built in his chest. “Hold on, Kaelyn. I’m coming.”