Page 8 of Primal Call

The thought made his stomach clench. A treatment existed, a gene therapy that could heal the damage, and stop the pain that haunted him.

The only problem was the cost. The procedure was exorbitantly expensive, far beyond what a lone Borraq like Kyral could ever hope to afford on his meager earnings as a hunter and tracker.

If he were still part of a clan, it might be different. A clan could pool their resources to support one of their own.

But Kyral didn't have a clan.

The memory still stung, even after all these years. He could picture it so clearly — the way his alpha had looked at him with disgust when he came back from the war, nostrils flaring as he saw the effect of the pain in Kyral's genes.

"You're tainted," his alpha had snarled, his deep voice rumbling with contempt. "Corrupted by humans. You're no longer one of us."

Kyral had looked around desperately, seeking support from the other clan members — his friends, his family…

But they'd all turned away, their eyes averted, their faces closed off.

In that moment, he'd realized the terrible truth: he was alone.

Kyral shook his head, banishing the bitter memories. He didn't need a clan, didn't need anyone's approval or support. The Taothium would be enough — enough to pay for the treatments, enough to buy himself a small plot of land where he and Zee could live out their days in peace.

It was all he wanted.

All he needed.

Kyral was alone now, and he would face this challenge alone, just like he always did.

With a grunt, he rolled up the map and tucked it back into his pocket. He had his prize in sight. All he had to do was find it.

He reached into the pouch at his hip, his fingers brushing against the handful of coins that clinked together inside. It wasn't much — a few months' worth of earnings from his hunts. But it would have to be enough to get him to the next leg of his journey.

Shouldering his pack, he cast a glance down at Zee, who was watching him with those big golden eyes. "Come on, girl," he said gruffly. "We've got a ways to go."

Zee chirped and fell into step beside him, her six legs carrying her easily over the rough terrain. Kyral envied her grace, the way she moved with such fluid confidence. His own steps felt heavy, weighed down by more than just his pack.

But he pushed on, his eyes fixed on the horizon, and its snow-capped peaks. If his calculations were correct, just beyond those peaks lay the frontier town of Zol's Reach.

Kyral's lip curled at the thought of the ramshackle settlement. Zol's Reach was little more than a glorified trading post, a dusty crossroads where the dregs of Borraq society gathered to drink and swap tales.

But it was also a hub to the frozen north, where Kyral's journey was headed. It was a prime place to resupply before he headed further north. He would have to keep his wits about him, but he was used to places like it.

Kyral's stride lengthened, fueled by a renewed sense of determination. He would find the Taothium, no matter what it took. And then, finally, he could have the life he deserved — a life of peace and solitude, far away from the sneers and judgment of his former clan.

A life where pain was just a distant memory.

Chapter four

The chill of the alpine air nipped at Kyral's exposed skin as he approached Zol's Reach. He tugged his cloak tighter, shielding himself from the biting wind.

How far north this damned map had led him — a world away from the sweltering jungles that blanketed most of Vasz.

He pushed through the swinging doors of the tavern. The cacophony of raucous laughter and clinking glasses assaulted his senses, the stench of spilled ale and unwashed bodies thick in the air. His gaze swept over the crowded taproom, brow furrowing.

For such a remote outpost, the place was positively bustling.

That was… unexpected.

Hardened mercenaries and grizzled hunters filled every table and barstool, their boisterous voices carrying over the crackle of the firepit. A few glanced up as Kyral entered, their eyes sharp — but a quick look at his narrowed eyes and the wicked blades at his hip had them turning away.

He wasn't easy prey.

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