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Unwilling to accept defeat, Xorran Entor poured energy into his psychic receptors and scanned the forest surrounding him. Each minute the kidnapped females were at the mercy of the elves increased the chances that they would be harmed or psychologically damaged by the ordeal. He could hear the warriors shifting restlessly, waiting for him to lock onto a signal, any signal. They were armed and ready to take back the females, but first Xorran had to find an entrance to the elves’ stronghold.
Xorran was a tracker, a psychic hunter who could identify, and usually follow, energy echoes left behind by emotionally charged events. So why couldn’t he follow elfin energy? Over and over, he’d locked onto a pattern only to have it stop abruptly for no apparent reason. Either the elves could teleport, or there was some element to this forest that Xorran didn’t understand.
“We’re wasting our time out here in the dark.” Torak finally said what the body language of his team had been shouting for the past hour. “Let’s get some sleep and start again at dawn.”
Clenching his fists so he could maintain a calm expression, Xorran turned and faced the other male. Not only did Torak Payne command the best ship in the Outcast fleet, he had earned the title warlord by defeating his predecessor, and every male foolish enough to challenge him.
Xorran nodded once, acknowledging the warlord’s decision. “I’m going to take one last try at it and then I’ll head back.”
“You stay, I stay,” Torak insisted. “The overlord doesn’t want anyone out here alone.”
“There’s a slim possibility that you and your team are distracting me.” It was more like their frustration and impatience were preventing him from meditating deeply enough to accurately assess the signals he was receiving, but he wasn’t going to explain all that to the frustrated warlord.
Torak dismissed his men with a curt telepathic command. The communication occurred via networked implants. Still, the signals were exchanged mind to mind, which qualified them as telepathy in Xorran’s book.
“You’re stuck with me,” Torak said once his men and dispersed. “There’s a very real possibility some of those pointy-eared bastards are still lurking in these trees.”
Xorran sighed, but didn’t argue. He no longer had the power of the Rodyte military to back him up, so he tended to avoid conflicts rather than race into them as he’d done for many years. “There’s more to tracking than sniffing the ground. Give me some space and try not to make a sound.”
“Understood,” Torak muttered and faded into the shadows.
He was still there. Xorran could sense him, but Torak stood quietly, attempting to give Xorran what he needed. Knowing the compromise was as close to solitude as he was going to get, Xorran closed his eyes and opened his mind to the rhythms of the forest. The agitated scurry of frightened creatures faded and random odors swelled to the forefront of his consciousness. Dank dirt and sweet flowers combined with pungent dung and...water.
His awareness suddenly shifted, locking onto the river. He felt the current, heard the soft burble of the liquid tumbling over rocks. Damp grass crushed beneath running feet, and then a shocking spike of fear stabbed into his brain. He gasped. The emotions he absorbed were never this intense. Someone was terrified.
“This way,” he urged in a harsh whisper.
He ran, agilely leaping over bushes and fallen trees in an effort to reach the river as fast as possible. Was he sensing one of the women? It had to be. Why would an elf be this afraid? He locked onto the signal, determined not to lose it as he’d lost so many in this strange forest.
Crashing through a tangled wall of underbrush, he emerged on a sloping riverbank as a small black animal dove into the water. An agitated human was right behind the animal and—much to Xorran’s shock—she ran right in after the animal. She gasped, then cried out as the cold water saturated her uniform from mid-thigh down. Her uniform was identical to the one Xorran wore. This was one of their females.
Still not understanding why she was chasing the animal, he slid down the grassy bank and ran beside the rushing water, keeping pace with the panicked woman and the struggling animal.
“Catch her! We cannot lose that cat.”
Cat? Was that thing a baby karron? Where had she gotten a cat? The creature was swimming for all it was worth, but the current was strong, sweeping it farther downstream with each passing second.
“Grab her!” the woman yelled. “Please!”
She seemed almost panicked now, so Xorran shook away his confusion and rushed into the water, grabbing the soggy animal by the scruff of the neck. It yowled pathetically and latched onto his chest and shoulder with sharp little claws. He ignored the pain and turned just in time to see the female lose her footing and plunge chest-deep into the sweeping water. She cried out, arms flailing as she fought to get her feet beneath her again. Holding tightly to the cat with one hand, he quickly caught the woman’s upper arm and dragged her to her feet. She grabbed the back of his shirt, so he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, steadying her as they waded to the riverbank.
The cat pressed its face against his neck, its entire body trembling violently. Xorran covered its small body with both hands, trying to comfort the animal as well as minimize the pull of its claws. The woman stood beside him, hands braced on her knees as she struggled to catch her breath.
“Thank God,” she said in between pants. “I thought I’d lost her for sure.”
The cat let out another yowl and burrowed closer to his body, its face still pressed against his neck. “Are you all right?” he asked the female. The river had been surprisingly cold given the warm weather, and she was dripping wet from the shoulders down. He looked her over as well as the darkness allowed while also trying to calm the cat. Undoubtedly winded and upset, the woman didn’t seem to be in physical pain.
“I’m fine.” She tossed back her hair as she straightened, inadvertently drawing his attention to her clingy uniform. The moonlight shone from behind her, the resulting shadows blurring her features. The shape of her body, however, was outlined by the silvery light. She had high, full breasts and a trim waist, then her hips flared, creating a lovely hourglass shape.
Her aesthetics were pleasing, but they didn’t explain the hunger creeping through not just his body but his soul. He felt restless and needy, anxious in a way he’d never experienced before. She moved closer and awareness pulsed through him. He could almost feel the cool night air wafting across her skin and tightening her nipples as her breathing accelerated. Her gaze widened and her lips parted, but he couldn’t see her clearly enough to discern the emotions driving her reaction.
“She’s shivering,” the female said softy. “Could you please...” She made a vague gesture with her hand. “Is your shirt still dry?”
“It was until I picked up the cat.”
“I had her wrapped in a blanket, but it’s either lying on the other side of the river or it’s downstream somewhere. Does your shirt open down the front? Can you tuck her in next to your skin?”
His uniform top opened in front, but it was too fitted for what she had in mind. Instead, he passed her the cat and quickly took off his shirt. Then using it like a blanket, he bundled up the cat and took the swaddled animal back from the female.
“I didn’t expect you to go shirtless,” she protested, yet her gaze lingered on his bare torso, making his skin tingle with anticipation. “On second thought,” she whispered, “carry on.”
Needing a distraction from his rapidly hardening cock, he asked, “Why’d she take off on you?”
She shrugged, then wrapped her arms around herself. Was she starting to feel the cold, or did his new state of dress make her uncomfortable?
“She woke up a few minutes ago and just freaked out.” He found her reaction to him more interesting than the explanation. Was she feeling this electric attraction too? “She jumped out of my arms and was off like a shot before I could do anything about it.”
Torak tromped down the bank, disrupting the tension as he slid to a stop slightly back from Xorran. “What is that thing?”
“Good question.” Xorran looked at the female. Her features were still shadowed, but her squared shoulders and raised chin managed to convey defiance. “What sort of cat am I holding and where did—? Never mind. Other questions are more important. Are you one of the women kidnapped by the elves?”
“Yes.”
She said nothing more, so Xorran asked, “Where is the other female and how did you get away from the elves?”
“The elves still have Heather and the rest is a long story, one the overlord needs to hear. Can we please get to the Wheel so I can change into something dry?”
Her teeth chattered and Xorran realized the cat wasn’t the only one shivering. Would she accept it if he unwrapped the cat and gave his shirt to her?
As if hearing Xorran’s quandary, Torak whipped off his shirt and draped it around the female’s shoulders. Her eyes widened as she stared up at him. He appeared massive and likely threatening in the moonlight. “T-thank you.”
Xorran tensed. Aggressive impulses surged in response to Torak’s nearness to the female. How strange. Xorran didn’t consider himself jealous, so why did he want to tear the warlord apart?
“You said the elves still have Heather. Then you’re Sara?” There was a silky quality in Torak’s voice that Xorran had never heard before. The warlord pulled her long dark hair out from under his shirt, obviously in no hurry to move away.
“Yes, I’m Sara.” She nervously licked her lips as she took a step back.
Torak lowered his arms, but continued to study her.
“Let’s go,” Xorran advised, trying to ignore the irrational surges of jealousy pulsing through his system. Each of the captive females was genetically compatible with at least one of the Outcasts. Xorran had yet to learn who his match or matches were. Notifications went out on a regular basis, but he hadn’t had an extra minute to clear his backed-up com-queue. Did compatibility explain why he had a nearly overwhelming need to shove Torak away from her and beat him senseless? Was this female a potential mate?
As if sensing his sudden tension, the cat shifted, digging its claws deeper into his chest. He stroked its back and whispered, “You’re all right, little guy. You’re safe now.”
“Her name is Weniffa, but she seems to prefer Wenny,” Sara told him, her gaze closely following every move he made. “She likes you.”
He chuckled. “She likes me more than the river. That’s not saying much.”
The cat raised her head and shook off the water, big blue eyes gleaming in her dark, furry face. Her cry sounded less traumatized now, but her claws were still imbedded in his flesh.
“Have I lost my mind, or is that a tiny battle cat?” Torak asked, moving closer to Xorran.
The cat hissed, batted at him with extended claws, then pressed its face against Xorran’s neck. “She doesn’t like you, warlord.” Xorran fought back a smile, thrilled with the cat’s decision. Suddenly the claw marks were worth it.
Torak turned on Sara, all silkiness gone from his voice. “I don’t think your story can wait. We’re not taking a karron to the Wheel. Not even a tiny one.”
“We have no choice.” She planted her fists on her hips and stared up at him, apparently unafraid.
Xorran’s chest warmed and his pulse accelerated. He had yet to see her in detail, but it didn’t matter. He admired her spirit and courage. Many females would be clingy and tearful after being kidnapped. Instead, she stood toe to toe with the warlord, insisting he back down. One thing became crystal clear in that moment. Xorran wanted this female, wanted her badly.
“How did you escape the elves and why do you have the karron?” Torak persisted, his stern tone demanding answers.
Xorran would have tried a different approach, but Torak was right. They needed to understand what was happening before they took a battle cat anywhere near the settlement. The cub might be relatively harmless, but what happened if her mother took exception to being separated from her cub? They’d already lost two guards and suffered multiple injuries thanks to the battle cats.
The borrowed shirt started to slip, so she brought it back up to her shoulders and held the sides together in front. “Wenny is part of the deal. I have to keep her safe and taken care of or Isolaund will drag us both back to the Underground.”
“Isolaund is the female elf Arton has seen in his visions?” Torak obviously knew more about the elves than Xorran did. Not surprising. Torak was part of the High Command, the overlord’s advisory board.
“Yes.” Sara shivered, clutching the shirt with both hands. “Isolaund trains the battle cats. They’re like children to her.”
“If Isolaund was willing to release you, why did she keep Heather?” Sara’s teeth were chattering again, so Torak reluctantly started walking. “Explain,” he prompted when she didn’t answer his question.
“The boy you guys captured is the youngest son of an elf general. The general is furious and terrified for his son. Isolaund agreed to trade Heather for the boy.”
“First of all, the captured elf is no boy. He is a well-trained soldier. He might be young, but I assure you he’s deadly,” Torak argued. “As for a prisoner exchange, that’s up to the overlord.”
They reached the building site, which meant the Wheel was just around the river bend. Xorran sighed, knowing he’d soon be free of Wenny’s claws. But Torak stopped walking and pointed to the half-built barracks. “A row of rooms at the back are enclosed. We’ll leave the karron there.”
“Then I stay too,” Sara insisted. “I promised Isolaund that Wenny would not leave my sight. I mean to honor that promise, at least until she has settled in to her new situation.”
Torak crossed his arms over his chest. The warlord was not used to anyone arguing with him, much less a small human female. “You need to change out of those wet clothes, or you’re going to...”
As he spoke, she turned around and kicked off her shoes, then took off her soggy pants. Careful to keep his shirt covering her, she removed her uniform top and shoved her arms into the sleeves of Torak’s shirt. She fastened the front, then rolled up the sleeves as she turned back around. “I’m not leaving Wenny.” Just to make sure he understood her position, she kicked the wet clothes onto his boots.
The warlord stared back at her in stunned silence. Then his gaze narrowed and he took a step toward her.
Wenny came alive with sudden speed, retracting her claws and lightly dropping to the ground. Xorran frantically tried to catch her, but the karron was too fast. She positioned herself in front of Sara and growled. White teeth gleamed in the moonlight and tufts of fur stood up along her shoulders and neck.
Xorran chuckled, unable to resist the irony. The fiercest warrior in a group of ruthless mercenaries was being confronted by two unarmed females.
Torak squared his shoulders and pointed at the cat. “This is the reason that creature is not welcome in the Wheel. Karrons are vicious animals, even the tiny ones.”
“I’ll guard them,” Xorran volunteered.
“I still need to speak with the overlord,” Sara reminded.
“We can com him from here,” Xorran told her.
She shook her head, determination gleaming in her eyes. “This requires an old-fashion face to face. You won’t believe everything I learned while I was with the elves.”
“See if he’ll agree to come here,” Xorran suggested.
Torak acknowledged the idea with a terse nod and headed for the Wheel.
“We need dry clothes and clean blankets,” Sara yelled at Torak’s back. “Maybe something to eat!”
Torak didn’t reply, but a break in his angry strides indicated he’d heard the directives.
There were fewer trees now, and Xorran could finally see her face. She had big, dark eyes and delicate features. Her face was too sophisticated for pretty, and striking fit her better than beautiful. Torak’s shirt engulfed her body from neck to knees, but he could still remember her curvy shape outlined in the moonlight. He desperately wanted to see it again, without the distraction of her uniform this time.
“Are you always this feisty?” Xorran asked with a lazy smile.
“Just when people piss me off.” She tossed her head and bent down and scooped up Wenny. “Damn it, you’re still wet.”
Xorran handed her his shirt, which was also damp. She turned the damp side out, then wrapped it around the cat. “She’s likely warmer than you are,” he pointed out. “I understand why you did this, but you are in danger of catching cold out here.”
“So are you.” She motioned toward his pants with her chin, unable to use a more conventional gesture with her arms full of squirming karron. “You should take off your pants too. I assure you, I’ve seen a naked man before.”
Her casual suggestion took his semi-erect cock to full attention so fast he had to stifle a groan. Was she serious?
When he just stared at her in stunned silence, she laughed, the sound wonderfully light and musical. “I’m kidding. All you guys take yourselves way too seriously. You can even have your shirt back if you want it. If we get out of the wind, Wenny will be fine without it.”
“I’m used to the cold.” It wasn’t a lie. Rodyte soldiers were trained to endure all sorts of hardships. Inclement weather was an annoyance, nothing more.
“Is Rodymia colder than Earth?” She walked into the barracks, looking around curiously at the skeleton-like structure. The karron had calmed somewhat. It seemed less squirmy.
“Rodyte soldiers are desensitized. It prepares us for all sorts of extremes.”
She flashed a playful smile. “Then you are Rodyte. I can’t see you that well, so I wasn’t sure.”
He tensed. “I am half Rodyte, and half Bilarrian.”
“Ah,” she muttered. “Battle born?”
“Does it matter?” he snapped. “Would you feel more comfortable if my mother were from Mejikon rather than Bilarri?”
She seemed to shrink right before his eyes. Her shoulders sagged and she lowered her gaze. “I obviously struck a nerve. Forget I brought it up. Your past is none of my business.”
Xorran sighed. He was being a jerk and he wasn’t sure why. She’d been friendly, almost flirtatious and he bit her head off. He lightly touched her arm, drawing her to a stop. “I’m sorry. This night has been extremely frustrating. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
Her smile returned, though it wasn’t quite as enthusiastic. “You called him warlord, so I presume that was Torak Payne. But I don’t know your name.”
Thinking back, Xorran realized neither Torak nor he had introduced themselves, even after they asked her name. “Damn,” he muttered. “We were both being rude. I’m Xorran Entor. Please call me Xorran.”
“You’re the tracker,” she mused. “Is that why the night was frustrating, because you couldn’t locate the elves?” Not waiting for his answer, she started walking again.
Everyone seemed to know about his abilities now and it felt very strange. He’d spent half his life trying to hide the fact that he had access to his magic. “I’d latch onto a signal, and then it would just stop, ending for no apparent reason. How did you get to their stronghold? You said something about the Underground.”
“The entire stronghold is underground. According to Arrista, they can no longer tolerate the daylight. It’s literally toxic to them.”
He nodded. Ever since Arton introduced the idea of other inhabitants on the planet, everyone had been speculating on how they stayed hidden and why they would hide. Xorran had been a fan of the underground city concept. It simply made the most sense, as did an extreme intolerance to ultraviolet light. “Can they teleport? Is that how they took you underground?”
She shook her head. “We climbed down a ladder on the way in and the floor just angled up on the way out.”
Then why in all of hells’ torments couldn’t he find even one of their entrances? They must be using some sort of illusion or holographic camouflage, or if the legends about elves were based on fact, some sort of magic shield.
They reached the back of the barracks and Xorran opened the door to one of the enclosures. And that was all it was, four walls, a wooden floor and half-finished ceiling. As much as Wenny liked water, things could get interesting if it started to rain.
“Be it ever so humble,” Sara muttered under her breath. “I hope Torak took me seriously. Staying here will be pretty miserable without some basic supplies.”
“If he doesn’t return in a few minutes, I’ll wake one of my friends and have them bring supplies out to us.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Cradling the cat with one arm and keeping the oversized shirt under her with the other, she carefully sat down. Then she stretched her long legs out in front of her and rested back against the wall. “I guess if the overlord doesn’t drop by tonight, I can make an appointment with him tomorrow. But I really don’t want to leave Wenny alone.” She hesitated for a second before asking, “Will you stay with her?”
“Of course I will, but the overlord will probably come. You have firsthand information about our enemy.”
She acknowledged his statement with a nod, then asked, “Can you swing the door shut? I’d like to let her go.”
“Of course.”
He closed the door and tried not to stare at her, but he couldn’t drag his gaze away. She sat in a pool of moonlight streaming in through one of the open sections in the roof. Her long dark hair was tousled and fatigue shadowed her eyes, and still he found her beautiful. This had to be the pull. He’d heard about the urgent need that engaged whenever a Rodyte male encountered a compatible female. But he hadn’t understood how different it felt from ordinary lust. He didn’t just want to share pleasure with her—though that was definitely a big part of what he was feeling. He wanted to protect her and provide for her, ensure she lacked for nothing as long as she lived. He wanted to mate with her.
Sara carefully opened Xorran’s shirt and freed Wenny. The karron cub shook her entire body, fluffing out her dark fur. Even in the dim light her eyes appeared blue as she looked around the unfamiliar room. Then she crept around, sniffing everything, including Xorran. He reached down and scratched behind her ears and Wenny rubbed against his calves. The tracker had made a friend, and it fascinated Sara to see so large a male being so gentle.
“Do they grow armor, or is it implanted once they’re fully grown?” Xorran asked.
“I don’t know. They didn’t tell me much about karrons, not nearly as much as I’d like to know if I’m going to be her new caregiver.”
He looked at her, dark gaze gleaming in the moonlight. “If the cats are so important to Isolaund, why would she give one to the enemy?”
At first glance, she’d thought the warlord was better looking, but Torak’s personality soon changed her mind. The warlord was autocratic and inflexible, basically a militant jerk. Xorran, on the other hand, was watchful, still assertive, yet willing to compromise. And Wenny liked him. Often animals were better judges of character than people. Lord knows Sara had gotten it seriously wrong a couple of times.
“If a karron isn’t aggressive enough to be a battle cat, he or she becomes part of the labor pool,” she explained. “Arrista said they’re trained to be beasts of burden. Isolaund didn’t want that sort of life for one of her babies, so she offered my freedom in exchange for rescuing Wenny. I’m also supposed to convince the overlord to exchange the captured elf for Heather. That should be everyone’s top priority. I’m not sure Isolaund can keep her safe.”
Xorran nodded, his expression thoughtful as he walked around the enclosure. His arms swung loosely at his sides and moonlight played across the curves and ridges of his muscular physique. It wasn’t hard to imagine what it would feel like to run her hands over those same bumps and hallows, to press against him and arch up into him. God above, the man was a walking, talking fantasy.
He seemed even more restless in the confined space than Wenny. Like most Rodyte hybrids, his hair was dark. The sides and back were short, but there was just enough length on top to reveal its tendency to curl. His features were bold, overtly masculine, without being brutish. His eyes were dark, but the color of his phitons was lost in the shadows. Phitons were the strange luminescent rings that separated a Rodyte’s irises from their pupils. The irises were almost always dark, but the phitons came in all sorts of colors, red, blue, purple, green, even silver and gold.
Xorran stared past her for a moment, then announced, “The overlord is on his way, and he doesn’t sound pleased with this development.”
“He’s not pleased that I’m free and unharmed. Wow, that’s awesome.”
“Sara, for the most part, Kage Razel is reasonable and will listen to all the information before making a decision. But you need to dial back the defensiveness, or all you’re going to accomplish is making him angry.”
She sighed, knowing he was right. But pressure was closing in on her from every side. The overlord would doubtlessly want to know everything she’d learned about the Sarronti, while the Sarronti wanted her to campaign for the release of the general’s son. Isolaund expected her to care for Wenny, but the Outcasts didn’t want a karron anywhere near the settlement. And lastly, Heather stood on the sidelines, ringing her hands, terrified that the elf general would rape her. They all had legitimate needs, and they were all looking to Sara to fulfill them.
What else was new? Her parents ran a group home for abused and neglected children, and she was their eldest biological child. People had been looking to her for solutions her entire life.
The overlord arrived a short time later, carrying a compact solar lantern. With his strange, asymmetrical hairstyle and penetrating eyes, he looked even meaner than Torak. Sara scrambled to her feet, feeling vulnerable on the floor. Wenny scampered toward her and growled softly at the overlord. She wasn’t as insistent as she’d been with Torak, but the overlord’s dark gaze immediately shifted to the cat.
“So you’re what all this fuss is about?” He bent to one knee and held out his hand, palm down. Wenny cautiously sniffed his fingers, looked at him, then gave his knuckles a gentle lick. “That’s right, girl. I’m no threat to you.” He pushed back to his feet, towering over Sara.
She looked at Xorran, not even sure what she expected from him. His phitons were purple. The light from the overlord’s lantern finally revealed their color. He didn’t say anything, but he offered an encouraging smile.
The overlord glanced at Xorran, then chuckled as his gaze returned to her. “Do I need to take off my shirt in your presence? That seems to be the practice of my men.”
“I’ll make an exception for you.” She felt her cheeks heat and instinctively averted her gaze. Authority emanated off the overlord as if he’d been born to power. Maybe he had. No one seemed to know very much about him.
“Torak told me you weren’t harmed.” He waited until she looked at him to ask, “Is this true? Are you okay? Not all wounds are physical.”
Pleased that he cared enough to make his own determination, she nodded. “I’m fine, but Heather is still in mortal danger. We cannot leave her in the Underground.”
“Rather than me asking a million questions, why don’t you start at the beginning and tell me what happened tonight?” The overlord set the lantern on the floor, then surprised her again as he sat against the opposite wall and crossed his long legs at the ankle.
Had he realized she felt uncomfortable with him staring down at her? Kage Razel wasn’t at all what she’d expected. Trying to match his nonchalance, she resumed her earlier pose, carefully covering her thighs with the oversized top. Wenny crawled onto her lap, kneaded her thighs for a moment, then lay down. The karron’s claws barely penetrated the sturdy material covering Sara’s legs, but she was glad when Wenny stopped and curled back into a furry ball.
Taking his cue from the other two, Xorran sat as well. He chose the wall directly across from the door. Had he just chosen a position that allowed him to see her and the overlord, or was Xorran demonstrating his neutrality?
“You and your cabin mates gathered by the river to catch up after Lily’s absence,” the overlord prompted. His tone was light, conversational, but his gaze remained sharp and assessing.
She quickly organized her thoughts, deciding which details to explain and which didn’t really matter. “The attack came out of nowhere. I was being dragged through the forest before I even had time to scream.” The overlord silently waited for more information, so she continued, “They took us down a ladder and into their underground fortress. I saw miles of passageways and many large rooms. The place is massive.”
“How many elves did you see?”
“Twenty or thirty, but I have no doubt there are many more.”
He nodded. Tension lifted his shoulders and thinned his lips. “I know you made a deal with Isolaund. How did that come about?”
A firm knock on the door postponed Sara’s response. Wenny raised her head and looked around. Xorran rose and opened the door, admitting two Outcasts, each laden with supplies. The karron cub didn’t seem to feel threatened by the intruders. She watched them silently from the security of Sara’s lap, then closed her eyes and tucked her head under her paws.
“Did they get everything, her royal highness demanded?” the overlord asked with a lazy half-smile.
Sara felt a tiny pang of guilt about her attitude, but Torak had been a total jerk at the time.
Xorran sorted through the supplies, then nodded. “Our demanding princess will be pleased.”
The overlord nodded to the newcomers. “Thank you, gentlemen.”
They returned his nod, then gazed at Sara as they ambled toward the door.
Xorran watched the others, and his gaze narrowed, gleaming dangerously. If Sara didn’t know better, she’d worry that he was going to fly across the room and pummel the other two. But why would he react that way? Xorran barely knew her.
“Back to your story,” Kage prompted.
Shaking away the distracting interruption, she told him everything that had happened. She kept the information concise and factual. Both males listened intently and only interrupted when something she said didn’t make sense to them. “So Arrista turned me loose and your men brought me here,” Sara concluded.
“Damn. You’re one hell of a spy, even if you weren’t trying to be.” The overlord stood and rolled his shoulders. “This is more intel on the elves than we’ve managed to collect since we’ve been here.”
She smiled, embarrassed by the praise. “They’re very different than I expected. From what little I’d heard, I pictured Legolas running through the forest with his bow and arrow. The physical similarities are striking, but these are sophisticated beings with technology equal to, maybe even superior to, yours.”
The overlord nodded thoughtfully, then asked, “Would you be willing to give us a sample of your blood?”
She tensed, unnerved by the odd request. “Depends why you want it.”
“It’s a shot in the dark, but it would be extremely beneficial if we could study one of the nanites you ingested.”
Her eyes widened as trepidation renewed her chills. “Do you think they’re harmful?”
“I don’t think Arrista would have given you something harmful. The Sarronti have interacted with humans before, so she would know if their tech was incompatible with your physiology. Much can be learned by studying a culture’s technology.”
That all made sense, so Sara nodded. “You can have the sample.”
“Good. Now I’m not opposed to trading Alonov’s son for Heather, but there are a couple of complications.”
“Other than Alonov having the hots for Heather?” Her voice thinned, revealing her agitation. Nothing was more important than Heather’s safety. Complications be damned.
He glanced at Xorran, likely asking him something via the internal comlink all the Outcasts shared. The overlord didn’t react outwardly to whatever they said and his intense gaze soon returned to Sara. “If we agree to the exchange, do you still have to foster the karron?”
Sara stroked the sleeping cub’s back, feeling insanely protective. It was no longer an obligation. She wanted to take care of Wenny. “She isn’t safe in the Underground. If Arrista hadn’t been warned what the council was planning, Wenny would be dead already.”
“Who suggested the barter, Arrista or Isolaund?” the overlord wanted to know.
“Arrista made the suggestion, but Isolaund immediately agreed. They both care deeply for the cats.”
The overlord stroked his stubbly chin, expression thoughtful. “Arrista enabled you to understand their language and suggested a way for you to be freed?” He shifted his gaze back to Xorran. “Sounds like a potential ally to me.” When Xorran only nodded, the overlord asked Sara, “Do you have a way to contact Arrista?”
She shook her head, belatedly realizing how helpful that would have been. “Arton is supposed to tell Isolaund what you decide, and the sooner the better.”
The overlord nodded, seeming to mull over everything he’d learned. He took a couple of steps toward the door, then turned around and came back to where he’d started. “If Arrista is involved in the prisoner swap, it might be our only opportunity to recruit her.”
Again he was focusing on all the wrong things. Rescuing Heather should be their only priority. “I think that’s going to require a longer conversation than we’d be allowed at a ‘prisoner swap’.”
Her pessimism had no effect on the overlord. “I was thinking more along the lines of passing her a note that said, meet me tomorrow at midnight.”
Sara just nodded. Having a contact in the enemy camp would be smart and strategic. She just wasn’t sure Arrista would become that contact. Despite her willingness to help Sara, Arrista seemed loyal to Isolaund. Rather than prolong the debate, she kept her opinions to herself.
“My primary hesitation is the general’s son. We’re not having much luck interrogating him.” A hint of humor eased the tension from around his mouth. “It’s hard to question someone when you don’t understand a word he says. Would you be willing to work with one of our interrogators?”
“How long will that take? I can’t stress it enough, Heather is in real danger.” Whatever information they could glean from Alonov’s son wasn’t worth what Heather would suffer if the general got his hands on her.
“Four hours,” the overlord proposed. “If we haven’t gotten anything out of him in four hours, Arton will contact Isolaund.”
“Two,” Sara countered stubbornly. If she didn’t champion Heather, it was obvious no one else would.
The overlord looked at Xorran and shook his head. “You’re going to have your hands full with this one, tracker. The sooner you claim her, the better.”
Sara gasped and snapped her gaze around to Xorran. “You’re on my list of matches?” There were seventy-two names on her list and most of them had meant nothing to her. She tried to avoid interaction with the males. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“This is the first I’ve heard about it,” Xorran objected.
Then why didn’t he seem surprised?
“He’s right,” the overlord told her. “Torak said you were ‘irrationally stubborn’. So I pulled you up in the matching database, thought one of your potential mates might help me negotiate. Come to find out, you’ve been with one all along.”
“That’s not too surprising,” she muttered. “I’ve got seventy-two matches. But I was told all the males were notified.”
Xorran didn’t seem pleased by this fact. He stared at her silently, emotion gleaming in his purple-ringed eyes.
“Notifications were sent,” the overlord told her. “That doesn’t ensure that they’re opened.”
The last thing she needed was an aggressive male trying to seduce her and her own hormones sabotaging her at every turn. “This is all beside the point,” Sara insisted. She carefully lifted the cub off her lap and placed her on Xorran’s uniform top. The cat stirred for a moment, then went back to sleep with a groan. Fighting to keep her lower body covered, she maneuvered her legs under her then stood. “We have to rescue Heather. I’ll help the interrogator for two hours, no longer.”
Much to her surprise, the overlord agreed. “That should be enough time to know whether or not we’re going to get anything out of him. Especially if your mate scans the elf while he’s questioned.”
Xorran stood as well, his features tense with displeasure. “I’m not technically empathic. My abilities—”
“Are close enough.” Kage asserted. “If Arton digs around inside a mind, it always results in damage. Give us your best shot. That’s all I ever ask.”
Xorran’s expression remained tight, but he didn’t object. “She needs to change clothes and relax for a while before she’s put in any more danger.”
“I’m fine.” Sara touched his arm and looked up into his purple-ringed gaze. “Yes, I need a new uniform, but I won’t be able to relax until I know Heather is safe.”
After a tense pause, the overlord nodded. “Put yourself back together and I’ll meet you and Xorran on the detention level of the Viper.”
“What about Wenny?” Sara lifted her chin, warning him that she wouldn’t allow the cub to be neglected.
He chuckled and shook his head. “And I thought Thea was the troublemaker in your cabin.” He stretched out his back and acquiesced with a chuckle. “I’m ready for a break. Xorran can escort you to the Viper and back. I’ll hang out with Wenny.” One of his dark brows arched in challenge as he added. “Will that suffice, your royal highness?”
With an unapologetic smile, she dipped into a curtsy. “Thank you, kind sir.”