Page 17 of Primal Call

Jasper swallowed hard, feeling a wave of chagrin wash over him. The evasion stung more than he'd anticipated. He wanted to press for more, but knew better than to push his luck.

"Right," Jasper muttered, casting his eyes downward to scan the ground more intently. The landscape seemed endless, each scrub bush potentially hiding deadly traps.

Jasper sighed inwardly and continued walking, keeping one eye on Kyral’s broad back and another on the treacherous ground beneath their feet. His questions about Kyral would have to wait — if they ever got answered at all.

Jasper grappled with the unexpected pull he felt toward Kyral the instant he saw him. It was ridiculous. Kyral was a hulking, horned alien, a Borraq, his species' sworn enemy. In the grand scheme of things, he was about as far from 'attractive' as a captor could be.

And yet...

Jasper bit his lower lip, the action hidden beneath the scarf he'd pulled up to protect his face from Vasz's chill. And yet… there was something about Kyral. Back in the chaos of the auction, Kyral had been something else. He'd been in command, standing with a confidence that was impossible to fake.

In the moment their eyes had met, despite the danger and the adrenaline pumping through Jasper's veins, he'd felt... something. Trust, maybe. Like for just a brief second, he and Kyral were on the same page.

Jasper scowled. He was just lying to himself, that was all. He was stressed out and scared, and his traitorous brain was looking for distractions.

That was the only explanation for the way he kept replaying the moment in the bar, the way he kept remembering the sight of Kyral's broad shoulders, the deep rumble of his voice, the way his unusual eyes had seemed to pin Jasper in place...

Jasper's boot slipped on a loose rock, sending him stumbling forward. His heart skipped a beat as he teetered on the edge of falling, but before he could hit the ground, a strong hand grabbed his arm, steadying him. Kyral's touch was firm but brief, his grip both reassuring and disconcerting.

"Keep your eyes on the path," Kyral grumbled, releasing Jasper almost as quickly as he'd caught him. The Borraq’s voice held an edge of irritation, but Jasper heard something else too — a hint of concern.

"Right," Jasper mumbled, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and embarrassment. He forced himself to focus on the uneven terrain ahead, but his mind kept drifting back to the fleeting contact. It lingered in his thoughts longer than it should have, warming him in a way that was wholly inappropriate given their situation.

He worried his lip in annoyance, trying to push the confusing feelings aside. What did any of it matter? He had more pressing concerns.

His thoughts turned to his squadmates, hoping against hope that they were okay. He pictured them back at camp, maybe rallying together to fend off the Borraq attack. But a sinking feeling told him that they might not have been so lucky.

And then there were his parents.

A lump formed in Jasper's throat as he thought about them receiving that dreaded notification — the one every military family feared.

It's better this way, he told himself, though it felt like a hollow comfort. If they thought he died a hero, then maybe they could find some solace in that.

It was a lie, but it was a beautiful one.

Kyral suddenly froze mid-step, his body tensing like a coiled spring. Jasper, a few paces behind, nearly bumped into him but managed to stop just in time. His heart thudded painfully in his chest as he noticed the change in Kyral's demeanor.

"What is it?" Jasper whispered, eyes darting around the unfamiliar terrain.

Kyral’s nostrils flared slightly, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the path ahead. He turned to Jasper, lowering his voice to a near growl. "Tracks. My old crew. They're up ahead."

Jasper’s blood ran cold. Kyral had filled him in on their history. He remembered those faces all too well from the bar — along with the malicious glint in their eyes as they'd watched him on the auction block. His stomach churned at the memory.

Kyral spoke quietly but urgently. "We need to go another way. If they've raced ahead of us, they're not waiting for a friendly reunion."

Jasper shivered involuntarily, clutching the too-large coat tighter around himself. "Lead the way."

Kyral nodded once and began to navigate through the underbrush with a practiced ease that Jasper envied. Every step felt precarious and fraught with danger, but he pushed on, trying to match Kyral's silent movements.

The terrain grew rougher as they veered off the main path, and Jasper struggled to keep up without making too much noise. Each rustle of leaves or snap of twigs felt amplified in the oppressive silence between them.

As they moved further away from the known route, Jasper's anxiety started to ebb slightly, replaced by a cautious optimism. Maybe they could avoid Kyral's former crew…

But he couldn't shake off the lingering fear completely — not while those dangerous Borraq were still out there, somewhere close by.

He kept his gaze firmly on Kyral's back and forced himself to keep moving forward.

For now, survival meant sticking with Kyral.

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