Page 73 of Akur

“Theydid this. Experimented on these creatures…” She moved to another pod, brushing away the frost to reveal yet another being that was not a Frenshuri. This one he didn’t even know, but it was in the same state. Still cut, still operated on, still dead in horror.

“The Tasqals take what they want from their victims, then store the remains. For study. For spare parts.” The words came out as a growl, memories of his own people’s suffering rising like bile in his throat. “All these females must have birthed Tasqal young.”

Being in this room brought it all back—the screams that echoed across worlds where he’d fought against the Tasqals. The sickening efficiency with which they’d collected their “specimens.” The way they’d sorted through the females, young ones and elders, like traders selecting produce.

And how he’d once been too young, too powerless to stop them.

Well, he wasn’t a youngling anymore.

When she shifted to another pod, wiping away the frost with such reverence, such respect for the poor being lying dead in that tomb, something ached in his chest.

Standing in this massive crypt, the clarity of what would happen to Kon-stahns if he let the Tasqals win was crushing. The thought made his blood boil, made the lingering heat in his system spike dangerously. He wouldn’t let them take her. He really would die first.

He watched her move from pod to pod, her small hand clearing away frost with the same gentleness he’d noticed before. But beneath that tenderness, he could see anger building in the rigid line of her spine, in the way her fingers curled into fists between each pod she examined.

“All these beings,” she said, and he stood straighter. In all their time together, he’d never heard her voice so low. So dangerous. “All these lives. Mothers, daughters, sisters…” She turned to him, and the fury in her eyes matched the inferno in his blood. “The Tasqals didn’t just kill them. They used them. Violated them.”

He watched her, cataloging everything. “Yes,” he said. “Many species have suffered from their menace. Many worlds have fallen. Many civilizations ruined. Even those that fought back and won.”

Kon-stahns turned. “Won? Some people won?”

Qrak, why was he about to tell her this? He didn’t talk about this. He had to pause. “When the Tasqals came to Tonvuhiri, they couldn’t take us down. So they tried to weaken us. Barred the trade routes. Left us to starve…and the fear spread like a disease.”

Constance stepped forward, her hand finding his arm. The touch anchored him, pulled him back from the edge of old nightmares. “But you survived,” she whispered. “You grew stronger. And now you’re fighting back.”

He looked down at her hand on his arm, so small against his scorching skin, yet containing more strength than she knew. “We all fight back,” he rumbled. “Or they will never stop.”

She pulled away, but not before giving his arm a squeeze that sent warmth through his chest. Moving to the center of the chamber, she surveyed the pods with new purpose. Her shoulders squared, chin lifting in that way he’d come to recognize—the calm before her storm.

A slow smile stretched his lips, even before she turned to face him.

“You know what?” Despite everything, despite the horror and death surrounding them, his lips curved into that smile too. “I think it’s time these bastards learned what happens when you piss off the wrong people.”

The look in her eyes, the steel in her voice—it stirred something in him. Not the heat-madness from before, but something deeper. Something that made him want to follow her into whatever hell she planned to raise.

“Come on, Mint Man,” she said, her smile growing wider. There was hope yet. There was always hope. “Let’s go cause some chaos.”

20

Akur

Akur watchedConstance move through the chamber. Could almost see the wheels turning in her head. It was entrancing. She was like a hunter now. Scheming. Planning.

Delicious.

It made him wonder what she might have been like on her planet, Er’th. Did humans adapt so easily on their own world? Did they fight wars or were they peaceful? He didn’t imagine her kind being nothing more than a herd species living in communal settings that fostered peace and tranquility. But seeing her now, he might have been wrong.

She tilted her head, looking around the dim cavernous room. “Think you can find the door? There must be a way out.”

True. But that was the least of his concern. He wasn’t worried about getting out. He’d break himself again by slamming through the wall just to set her free. Getting out wasn’t a problem. It’s what might get in. The Hedgeruds chasing them must know where they ended up.

Flexing the muscles in his back, he ignored the tenderness of his nefreas he rolled his neck. The pressure of his heat, though tempered, was like a constant annoying ache that made him plant his feet into the dusty floor beneath them.

“Only, we don’t even know where we are, do we?” Constance bit her lip and his cock throbbed in its pouch where he’d tucked it away—where he’d usedherhands to tuck it away. He shouldn’t have done that. The sensation of her soft flesh touching him there had been torture in itself.

“The map is dead and we could be walking straight into a nest of those assholes.” She paced, worrying her lip again as her brow furrowed. His tunic that she wore swayed as she walked. It swallowed her, and still it was as if he could see every line and curve of her body.

Qrak.

---