Page 14 of Shielded Heart

“Right. We’ll be on our way in five.”

Arc cut off the call. As he grasped the controls, he paused; part of him wanted to stay and watch out for trouble until the two cren arrived, just to be sure.

Part of him wanted to go into that building, walk up to Samantha’s door, kick it down, and sweep her into his arms. That would be the quickest way to have her, after all. The most direct route to getting what he wanted. He’d sacrificed so much over the years just to survive; wasn’t he entitled to taking the easy way every now and again? With so much having been taken from him, wasn’t it all right to take a little for himself?

“Stupid,” he muttered. He piloted the hovercar up and began his journey home.

He’d always enjoyed the game, had always enjoyed maneuvering boldly and brashly, throwing his opponents off guard with his audacity. He was a champion, not a conqueror; he would win his mate, not steal her. She’d already shown some interest in him. Even though she’d openly fought that interest, it was a start. It was enough for him to work with.

Drakkal was waiting, his large arms crossed over his chest and his taupe-and-copper fur bristling, when Arcanthus drove the hovercar into the garage. Despite the heavy tinting of the hovercar’s windows and windshield, the azhera seemed to meet Arcanthus’s gaze instantly with a heavy, angry glare.

“So it begins,” Arcanthus said. He opened the door and exited the vehicle.

He approached Drakkal at a leisurely pace, tilting one corner of his mouth up in a smirk. “It looks like something has your fur rumpled. Did Razi annihilate you in Conquerors again?”

“Six hours and twenty-two minutes,” the azhera growled.

Arcanthus stopped in front of Drakkal. “Well, you kept at the game for a long time. I admire your persistence, but sometimes you just have to know when to surrender.”

“This isn’t a game, Arcanthus. How am I supposed to keep you safe when you disappear for six and a half hours without a word? When you turn off all communication? Are you—”

“Stupid? Yes, I suppose I’mquitestupid sometimes.” Arc waved a hand and walked past the azhera into the hallway. “I’m fine, Drakkal. It’s been ten years, and as far as they’re concerned, I’m dead. My real name isn’t out there anywhere. There’s nothing wrong with me going out for some air every now and then.”

Drakkal’s footsteps sounded behind Arc as the azhera followed him down the hallway. “If you believed that, you wouldn’t live inside a small fortress and constantly cycle through twenty different aliases.”

Frowning, Arcanthus stopped and turned to face Drakkal. “That’s just…habitby now. They aren’t looking for me because I no longer exist. Simple.”

Drakkal sighed—though it came out as something closer to a snort. “All for a terran?”

Arc narrowed his center eye. “The terran has nothing to do with this. I was feeling trapped. Does it truly come as a surprise that sometimes I just need to get outside these walls?”

“I know you sent Kiloq and Koroq to watch out for her.”

Arcanthus’s brows fell. “Then I suppose I will have to have a conversation with them regarding discretion, won’t I?”

“You wanted me to head up your security. That’s what I’m doing. If you want me to be effective, you keep me in the know.”

“I can take care of myself.”

Drakkal’s expression spoke clearly—really?

“SometimesI can take care of myself, then. Does that make you happy? Does it satisfy your craving to be needed?”

“I don’t want to walk into a scene like I did back on Caldorius, Arc.”

A pang struck Arcanthus’s chest; he wasn’t sure if it was guilt, sorrow, pain, or something else. “Well, the good news is that there’s not too much left to be chopped off, if you think about it.”

Shaking his head, Drakkal dropped his arms to his sides. “Just be careful. You’re too soft for this city.”

“Surely you jest. I’ve often some trouble telling, as you seem unable to modulate the volume and tone of your voice.”

“You’re offended. Just proves my point.”

Arcanthus lifted both his arms, curled one hand into a fist, and knocked on his opposite forearm, producing a dull, metallic clang. “If you’d like to discusssoft, we can compare. Your fur is looking particularly fluffy today, so I’d advise you avoid this conversation if you don’t want to be embarrassed.”

“Come here,” Drakkal said, spreading his arms wide. “I’ll hug your pain and bitterness away.”

“You arenotmy mother, azhera.”

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