Page 36 of Akur

She wasn’t sure that would happen. The tunnel was getting even narrower; the walls pressing in on both sides. Her chest felt tight—whether from exertion or claustrophobia, she couldn’t tell.

“We need to turn back,” Akur said suddenly. “This path is a dead end.”

“How can you tell?”

“The air. It is stagnant ahead.”

He stopped moving, but hope made her squeeze past him in the tight space. Even when she took a few steps forward, one hand outstretched to guide her, he didn’t let go of the other. For about twelve feet, she paced before her outstretched hand met solid stone. He was right—the tunnel ended in a blank wall.

“No,” she whispered. Her hand traveled over the rock face, searching for an opening that wasn’t there. “No. There must be something.”

Behind them, the mechanical sounds grew louder. Light flickered at the edge of her vision—they were close enough now that she could see the shadows of their pursuers stretching along the tunnel walls.

“Stay behind me.”

Her gaze flicked to the alien, and her breath caught. With the gator-guards’ light, the darkness was not as absolute as before. She could see her companion now. See the blood. The gashes in his flesh. See the way he was standing tall despite all that. Guarding her. Something deep inside her constricted at the sight.

“No. In this narrow space? We’d be target practice.” She spun around, staring at the dark wall before them as if hope would open a door. “This is my fault. I chose this tunnel.”

“Yes.” He released her now, the heat of his grasp disappearing as he grabbed both his swords. Turning from her, he faced the tunnel, almost completely blocking her from view. “You did.”

“Thanks for the comfort.”

“I don’t offer comfort. I offer truth.” He shifted slightly, a stance that told her he was ready for business. “But I followed you, anyway.”

The simple statement hit her hard. He was right. He’d followed her. Trusted her. And she’d led them into a trap.

This was the end.

When the wall behind her shifted, she didn’t first notice. But then, when it happened again, it was distinct enough for her to feel. A definite movement in the stone she was pressing against. Before she could process what was happening, the wall moved, and something grabbed her arm—a hand that felt wrong. Rough. Bumpy. Moist. She glimpsed white fabric, a flutter of robes, and then she was being pulled backward through an opening that hadn’t been there seconds before.

“Akur!” Eyes wide, his name left her lips on instinct as she stretched for him. And he was there. He moved quicker than he should be able to, grabbing her outstretched arm as she was yanked through the hole, taking him with her. The force of it sent them both tumbling, their bodies twisting in the darkness as they fell. Her stomach lurched at the sensation of emptiness beneath them, the ground disappearing as they plummeted. They hit hard—first her, then him on top of her with a grunt that knocked the air from both their lungs.

10

Constance

She expectedit to hurt more, but the pain didn’t come. Because somehow, this big lump of an alien had wrapped his arms around her, protecting her spine and head.

Why the hell did this keep happening? Where were they now? Before she could process what had happened, there was a grinding sound of stone on stone above them and then silence. The alien molerats’ screeches became muffled, distant. The sound of the machines, too.

The transition was jarring—one moment, they were in a dead-end tunnel with guards bearing down on them, the next, they were…somewhere else. Somewhere darker, if that was possible. The air was different here, too—cooler, damper, with an organic smell she couldn’t quite place.

Constance groaned. “What just happened?” She was still pressed against Akur’s chest, hardly able to see a thing.

“We were rescued.” His voice didn’t hide his suspicion. “Or captured. Again.”

“By whom? I felt…thought I saw…” She trailed off, unsure of what she’d seen or felt.

“Keep moving,” a voice whispered from the darkness ahead—rough, sexless, impossible to place. “Quickly now.”

Akur stood, taking her with him with an ease that shouldn’t be possible. The moment they were upright, his entire body went rigid. The growl that tore from his throat was unlike anything she’d heard from him before—deep, animalistic, filled with such pure hatred, it made shivers go down her spine.

His hand found her waist, pushing her firmly behind him even as his other arm raised what had to be his sword. The tension in his muscles spoke of barely restrained violence—as if it was taking every bit of energy within him not to tear whatever was before them apart.

“You.” His single utterance sounded corrosive. Enough to make her suddenly grateful for the barrier his body provided between her and whatever could make him sound like that. His hand on her waist tightened to an almost painful degree, as if he feared someone might try to tear her away.

“There is no time for old grievances,” the voice said from the shadows. “We cannot tarry here. The guards will find this chamber soon.”

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