Page 21 of Primal Vow

Was Rhys about to betray them?

Chapter nine

Taryn watched intently as Rhys approached the lone human, his muscles tensed and ready to spring into action at the first sign of betrayal. The very thought of Rhys deceiving him caused a strange tightness in Taryn's chest, a feeling he couldn't quite place.

Humans were treacherous beings, capable of great cruelty and deception. Taryn had seen it firsthand, had lost his beloved brother to their violence. Every lesson from his warrior training screamed at him to never trust a human, to assume the worst of their intentions.

And yet...

There was something about Rhys that gave Taryn pause. The human had shown no signs of dishonesty or ill intent since being brought into the Borraq camp. In fact, he had been remarkably cooperative, even offering up this daring plan to catch his own kind.

If this was all an elaborate ruse, if Rhys meant to betray them to aid his own kind...

The sting of that potential betrayal was sharper than Taryn expected. He found himself hoping against all logic and experience that Rhys was true to his word. To be deceived by a human, after Rhys had looked him in the eye and promised to help, after Taryn had begun to sense a strange appreciation of the alien...

It would cut like a blade.

Mal finally saw Rhys. The other human whipped around, shouting something. This far, Taryn couldn't hear the words, just the faint sound of their voices.

Rhys froze, acting surprised, and then looked overjoyed, shouting back. His body language was perfect: at first, his shoulders hunched, head down, the very picture of a tired, hungry, lost human desperate to rejoin his kind — and then bursting into relief.

Even from this distance, Taryn could see the way the other human's posture shifted, his interest piqued by Rhys's act. Mal shouted something back to Rhys, his voice still loud, but his posture was softer.

So far, so good. Rhys was playing his part flawlessly. But the true test was still to come.

If the other human took the bait and let Rhys approach, letting his guard down in the belief that he was collecting a lost compatriot, then the trap could be sprung. Rhys could get Mal's gun from him, and then the Borraq could close in.

But if Mal sensed the deception, if he stayed wary and kept his distance...

Taryn's heart thundered in his chest as the two humans spoke, their voices too low to make out now. He watched Rhys's every micro-expression, searching for any hint of falsehood, any sign that would give away to Mal that this was all a ploy.

There was none. Instead of mining, Rhys should have got into performing.

Or was this performance for Taryn?

Taryn squared his jaw. Mal was focused on Rhys. Signaling silently to the others, Taryn began to slink down the wooded face of the ridge, keeping the humans in sight as he slipped through the cover of the trees.

Finally, he closed in on the scene. Taryn watched, his muscles taut with tension, as Rhys approached the other human.

The man's weathered face was set in a scowl, his grip tight on the weapon he held. "Huh, can't believe it really is you. How'd you get away?"

"I'm quick on my feet." Rhys grinned with feigned exhaustion and relief. "Not as quick as you, though. Thank god, I've been trying to catch up with you guys for days."

Mal spat. "Pity."

For a moment, Taryn tried to work out what he'd just heard.

And then Mal leveled his gun at Rhys.

Taryn had to give it to Rhys — he really was quick. Rhys jerked to the side, throwing himself behind a tree. Rhys's eyes were wide, his expression one of genuine shock. "Mal? What are you doing?!"

His gun held in front of him, Mal began to step towards Rhys's hiding spot. "Shut your mouth," he snapped. "You were expendable from the start. I won't have you slowing us down right when we're nearly there. You've already probably left a trail a mile wide! Christ, those horned bastards will be on your heels."

Fury blazed hot in Taryn's chest. How dare this human treat one of his own with such callous disregard? Rhys had done nothing to deserve such cruelty, such utter disloyalty from his own kind.

Rhys was shaking his head, his eyes wide with a hurt that cut Taryn to his core. He tried to keep the tree between him and Mal, moving around it as Mal stalked closer. "Mal, please, you can't—"

"Shut up." Mal shifted his weight, ready to spring around the tree. If Taryn had had any lingering hopes that the runaway humans were just simple miners, they would have disappeared at the way that Mal held his gun: solid and military, a trained killer. "Better me than the bastards. Time to say goodbye."

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