Page 23 of Primal Vow

A Borraq warrior did not leave the helpless to suffer, no matter their allegiances. Rhys may have been born human, but in this moment he was simply a lost soul in need of support.

Taryn held Rhys's gaze. "Now?" he said. "Now, you come with me. I will keep you safe until we can find a way to return you to your people."

Rhys turned that bleak, hopeless gaze up at Taryn. "But you hate me."

Taryn didn't answer that. He extended his hand, offering Rhys the same steadying grip he offered his own warriors in their moments of doubt or weariness. "You have my word."

For a long heartbeat, Rhys simply stared at Taryn's outstretched hand. Then, almost imperceptibly, some of the tension seemed to bleed from his body.

He reached out to grasp Taryn's hand, allowing the Borraq to pull him to his feet.

As Taryn watched the play of emotions chase themselves across Rhys's features, he felt an unexpected pang resonate deep within his chest. A protective instinct, familiar yet distinctly new, that urged him to shield this human from any further hurt or hardship.

It was the same driving force that had moved him to intervene when Mal's weapon was leveled at Rhys's heart. The same impulse that had his blade leaving his hand before conscious thought could even take shape. He had acted without hesitation, without regard for allegiance or custom, driven solely by the need to preserve Rhys's life.

His act had compromised his mission. It had saved Rhys's life.

Taryn wanted to dismiss that impulse as little more than muscle memory. A knee-jerk reaction born from decades of shielding his younger brother from the harsh realities they had faced together. Vasz was an unforgiving mother, and protecting those weaker or less experienced had become as natural to him as breathing.

Seeing Rhys in peril had simply... triggered that old instinct. A brief flash of misplaced protectiveness that would soon fade.

That was all.

And yet… Taryn could not bring himself to silence that tantalizing inner voice. Could not entirely shut himself off from the alien yet intriguing emotions that seemed to unfurl within him whenever Rhys's bright eyes met his own.

It went against every lesson, every ingrained truth that guided him as both warrior and Borraq.

But it felt right.

Chapter ten

The heart of the campfire sent up hot sparks, the flames roaring high into the dark Vasz night.

It was a beautiful night on a beautiful planet.

Rhys didn't care.

The rest of the Borraq were talking on the other side of the camp, leaving Rhys alone to stare into the fire. The heat warmed his hands, but it did nothing to warm the chill that had settled deep in his chest.

He was trapped here.

Vasz: a planet of danger, of beasts, of storms that could tear a man in half. A planet full of brutal aliens that wanted him dead.

A planet that was going to be his prison for the rest of his short, miserable life.

The sense of loss hit him like a physical blow, stealing his breath. He'd known that a run that paid as well as this one was bound to be risky.

But this… this was too much.

He was going to be alone forever.

However long 'forever' was.

Across the crackling fire, Taryn rose to his feet, his powerful frame casting long shadows. "Jorah, Krye, head out and gather water. Worrack, Soren, forage supplies. We might have a long hunt ahead of us."

The young warriors nodded, a chorus of, "Yes, Taryn," chiming through the camp as they gathered their equipment.

As the group headed off into the darkness, Rhys found himself alone with Taryn. A Borraq warrior. The very creature he'd been warned to fear his entire life.

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