Page 64 of Orange Tundra
Nif, the largest of the crew, stepped back and lowered his gaze. "Forgive me, my lady," he rumbled, swagger gone. "I didn't mean to stare."
My lady. Not Brynn. Their reverence stoked heat along my cheeks, a flush at odds with the morning chill and my own pregnant body's surging hormones. They looked at me as though I were a living miracle they'd only half believed possible.
"It's all right," I managed, voice unsteady. "I realize it's... significant."
Significant. What an understatement for the people of this world. The barest word for an impossible reality—a hybrid pregnancy after a thousand years of hopeless attempts. I felt like an impostor standing before them, living proof that could change their destiny. Yet I couldn't deny the proof growing inside me.
Snarz cleared his throat, shattering the awed silence. "The fathers... who...?"
I flinched. Having been raised to believe in monogamous bonds, the concept of multiple mates still made me uncomfortable. Good thing I wasn't on Earth anymore. Before I could speak, Nim stepped behind me and rested a possessive hand on my shoulder. Mine. Protected. His calm dominance warned them not to intrude where they didn't belong.
But these mercenaries weren't looking to claim me. They looked ready to drop to their knees. I sensed their awe warring with a thrilling buzz they didn't fully understand—my scent stirred instincts kept dormant for generations.
"There," Sinx said abruptly, pointing across the lagoon. "Movement."
I turned and saw Coone slip from the trees, his lithe Neko physique instantly recognizable. Matte-red skin, catlike ears, and a swaying short tail set him apart from the furred Manasties.Roqs followed, golden fur streaked with bruises and scratches. Relief sang through my veins even as my pulse thudded.
The mercenaries eased back, silent as Coone and Roqs approached. Heated glances lingered on my belly before they resumed their positions. That uneasy hush told me they smelled something powerful—hope and fear mingled together.
Nim and Sim flanked me as I stepped forward. My swollen abdomen tightened in protest, but I ignored the discomfort. "Coone, Roqs. You made it."
Coone's golden eyes darted from the lagoon to my midsection. "Brynn..." He stopped, letting the sight of my changed body speak for itself.
"Brynn," he whispered, my name a prayer on his lips. "You're so..."
Beautiful. Round. Perfect. Those better be the words he wanted to say, otherwise I would introduce my laser pointer to him.
"You've... changed a lot."
Worry registered on his face, and I understood why—my pregnancy didn't look anywhere near six days along. I was visibly rounded, every breath reminding me I was carrying precious cargo. "It's been rough," I admitted, wishing I could convey the relief we'd found in the White Tribe's healing crystals. "But I'm okay now—truly—and I'm more concerned about you. Both of you."
Roqs inhaled, tension running through his broad shoulders as though bracing for confession. "We're all right, but Zirc isn't. Kilo's men took him. We found a lead."
Coone folded his arms, tail flicking. "We have news on Zirc's location, but no guarantee it's not a trap. Trill—" his lip curled slightly "—Roqs's mate—contacted us."
The moment he spoke "mate," a dark flicker passed over Roqs's face. "We have details," he added. "They're forcing Zirc into a pit fight soon."
My stomach clenched. Zirc, the proud and loyal Silver Beast, reduced to a spectacle for gambling crowds. "How soon?"
"Trill warned it's happening at dawn," Roqs said quietly. "We can't wait, or we'll be too late." Guilt shadowed his gaze as he spared a glance at my belly. "I'm sorry. I should've warned you all about Trill sooner."
Before I could reply, the rising hum of machinery cut the air. A silver droid dipped from the canopy, wings glittering as it landed on a flat rock. The mercenaries tensed, including Xy and Clitasoxdfwe'h, who I was scandalized to find out was nicknamed 'Clit'! What was with the Purple Tribe people on this planet?
They all had their weapons half-drawn.
A thin, red filament encased a tiny capsule in the droid's core. The bitter-sweet stench of synthetic blood wafted from it. Roqs moved closer, ignoring Coone's hissed warning, and touched the filament. It dissolved with a hiss, spraying crimson droplets that vanished once exposed to air. Then the droid began to shake, metal plates sparking.
"Back!" Coone barked. His Neko reflexes kicked in. He hooked a hand around my elbow and jerked me aside while Nim yanked Sim clear. Roqs yanked the capsule loose just as the droid's central coil exploded in shards of melted alloys and circuitry. Pieces pinged off the rocks in a brief rain of twisted metal, leaving a scorched shell behind.
Coone spat. "This technology is no doubt from Kilo's gang. He rigs them this way to self-destruct once the message is delivered. No evidence left."
Roqs unrolled a note from the liberated capsule. His eyes skimmed the short lines:
Zirc deteriorates faster than expected. Pit fight at dawn.North tunnel compromised, main gate guarded. Emergency shaft opens at second bell.Your scent is the only thing stopping him from total feral state.Risk everything or lose him.—Trill
Roqs swallowed, shoulders taut. "Zirc's time is running out."
Coone's tail lashed. "And we're supposed to trust the one who helped take him?"
