Page 42 of Primal Vow

He didn't fear his own people. What they would take from him if they knew, though…

The transition from the rugged, untamed wilds of Vasz to the technological hub was jarring, the towering structures and humming machinery a stark contrast to the isolated territories he patrolled with his warriors.

He cast a fleeting glance back towards the dense jungle, his thoughts drifting to Rhys, left alone in the cave. A protective instinct stirred within him, a lingering ache.

Rhys would be fine. He was tucked away in a cave that no-one would stumble across easily.

There was no other option. If Rhys had been a Borraq, Taryn could have walked into the city with him without a care in the world.

But Rhys wasn't a Borraq. Rhys was the enemy of his kind.

But he was also Taryn's mate. By the gods, what road was ahead of them…?

But the memory of Rhys's lips against his own lingered, buoying his spirits. Whatever that road may be, Taryn would face it bravely.

Taryn pushed the thought aside, his focus narrowing on the task at hand.

He had to find the head of the city's security, and get them to be on alert. They were the only Borraq he could trust with this — if anyone else heard that there were humans around, they'd been out in droves, trying to hunt up a quick bounty.

And with Rhys out there, Taryn would not risk that. Could not risk it.

But first… How much did the city's security already know?

Weaving through the crowded streets, he approached a lively stall adorned with vibrant banners, its proprietor haggling animatedly with customers. Taryn waited for a lull, then leaned in, his voice low and casual. "I seek information on any unusual sightings or rumors you may have heard."

The shopkeeper eyed him, grinning at the chance to make some money. "Unusual how? What's on your mind, warrior?"

Taryn paused, choosing his words carefully. "Anything out of the ordinary. Strangers, unfamiliar activity in the jungles nearby, that sort of thing."

The shopkeeper stroked his chin, considering. "Hmm. I'd love to sell a few words for a few coins, but… There's been nothing, really. It's been peaceful this season. A few brawls by returning soldiers, but we've seen worse."

Taryn kept his expression neutral, but disappointment gnawed at him. He'd hoped that the shopkeeper might have some rumor of the humans, something to let him know that the city was already on the case.

Before he could leave, though, the shopkeep cut him off. "There's one person here you should talk to, though. He knows more than I…"

A few minutes later, Taryn stepped into a bar, the sounds of rowdy laughter and clashing mugs spilling out around him. The thick, heady scent of spilled alcohol accompanied him, cutting through the sharp, metallic tang of the city's air.

He paused for a moment, his focus in too many places at once. The combination of the drink's scent and the many overlapping conversations made for a dizzying assault on his senses, a momentary disorientation.

"Taryn? Is that you, pup?"

Taryn's heart skipped a beat. Slowly, he turned to face the figure leaning against the bar's ramshackle exterior.

"Zarrack!" Taryn exclaimed, his eyes widening in recognition. The scarred warrior's face split into a broad grin, his fur rippling as he pushed off from the wall to greet his former comrade.

Zarrack was a friend of Rael's father — the previous head of Taryn's clan. He was only a little older than Taryn, still in fine fighting shape. But like every other growing lad in the clan at that time, Taryn had grown up slightly starry-eyed about the older warrior.

The scarred warrior. It was impossible to miss the scars that crossed Zarrack's broad chest, or the way that one horn was cruelly broken.

Zarrack had proved his mettle twice over. Once by going to war against the humans… And another time over by escaping their cells as a prisoner of war.

He'd regained his freedom, but he'd never be free of the marks the humans had left on him.

But that wasn't the only mark he was wearing. Taryn honed in on the shine of the rectangular metal badge on Zarrack's shoulder. "You're the head of security here?"

"That I am! A man needs a duty to serve." The older warrior seemed in good spirits. He looked Taryn up and down appraisingly. "By the gods, it's been a while!" Zarrack's gravelly voice boomed out, drawing the attention of the nearby patrons. He clapped Taryn firmly on the shoulder, his calloused palm radiating warmth. "You've grown like a vine since I saw you last."

"When you saw me last, I was a brainless little pup." Taryn returned the smile, any lingering apprehension melting away at the familiar presence. "I didn't expect to find you here."

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