Page 35 of Fated to the Drakarn Commander (Drakarn Mates 4)

And now … it was me? Just like that?

I had to move. I dressed quickly, slamming my feet into my boots as if I had somewhere to go, as if I hadn't promised Khorlar—my mate!—that I would stay put.

Three steps, then a turn, sharp. Two steps, a halt before the sleeping platform where—no. I shouldn’t think about that. Five steps. Water basin. Cold water splashed, stinging my face and neck. It was useless. It couldn't touch the furnace roaring beneath my ribs.

I needed answers. Not from Khorlar. Every time I tried, his damn mouth ended up on mine, his heat overwhelming the questions, my body a traitor to caution. I needed clarity. Distance. Perspective.

Selene.

She was a soldier. A medic. Pragmatic. She'd understand this battlefield confusion. And bonded to Vyne … she'd navigated this impossible territory. Found her footing. Maybe she could show me the map.

With the decision made, a spark of purpose cut through the haze. I moved to the door and hesitated. Khorlar’s warning—his low growl about safety—hung thick in the air. But I wasn't prey to be caged, not even by him. Not even for my own good.

Besides, I wasn't going far.

The corridor pulsed with the low glow of heat crystals. Shadows stretched long and distorted. Guards. Drakarn warriors stood like stone sentinels at points where none had been before. This was Khorlar's doing. My jaw was tight as I pulled my hood lower, kept my head down. I wasn't sneaking, exactly. Just … avoiding notice. The faint bruising on my neck suddenly felt like a spotlight. No one tried to stop me.

I moved through the lower training quarters and past the medical caverns. The route snaked through quieter sections of Scalvaris, away from the main thoroughfares, away from the few other human faces who might see the flush I couldn’t scrub away, the slight tremor in my hands.

Selene's alcove in the medical caverns was small, carved raw from the rock. Shelves lined with bizarrely colored pastes and tightly wound bandages. It was clean. Efficient.

But it was empty.

Shit.

There was no Selene.

Vega, however, was only a bit farther down the corridor. The last person I needed to see right now.

She paced the small space like a caged sand-cat, sharp, contained energy vibrating off her. Her head snapped up, eyes narrowed as I entered.

"Hawk." Relief warred with immediate suspicion. "Where the hell have you been? I came to your quarters to talk to you, and the lizards wouldn't let me pass."

I froze, suddenly hyper-aware of how I must look—clothes rumpled despite my attempts to straighten them, hair probably a mess, the tension still thrumming through me like a plucked wire. "I'm here now," I managed. Vague. Useless. "Looking for Selene."

"She's with Vyne, as usual," Vega dismissed, waving a hand impatiently. "Council crap. Speaking of—" She closed the distance between us. Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial hiss despite the emptiness. "I've been thinking …"

My stomach plummeted at that look. It was fierce. Burning. The Vega-look that meant caution was already out the airlock. The same look I'd seen while she was scaling a cliff during training, sprained wrist be damned.

"Vega—"

"I overheard some of them talking," she barreled on, cutting me off, eyes glittering. "The Ignarath warriors, the ones with the delegation. They were talking about humans. Not us, Hawk. Others. Survivors."

The word hit like a physical blow. Survivors. The hope that fueled us. The reason we endured. But now … hearing it … a strange, hollow dread coiled in my gut. More humans. What would that mean for … this? For everything?

"I swear I heard one of them say Larissa," Vega pressed, leaning closer, her breath hot with urgency. "Specifically. That's Kira's sister, Hawk. We have to find out more."

"And they just said all of this conveniently by you?"

She rolled her eyes. "I was on training duty while some of their delegation was working out in the training yard. They stared at me, and I pretended not to understand them when they started spouting off some gross shit. They basically ignored me after that."

I swallowed, the metallic tang of adrenaline flooding my mouth. Forced focus. "And your plan is … what? A suicide stroll into Ignarath territory based on gossip?"

Her face hardened, jaw set. "I'm not asking permission."

"Clearly," I shot back, the word sharper than intended. Raw nerves frayed by sleeplessness and … everything else. "You never do."

She actually recoiled. Hurt flashed, quicksilver, then vanished behind anger. "What's that supposed to mean?"

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