Page 39 of Double Cut

“No, but she still thinks like a human for all the physical transformation of her body.” Horas dumped the diced vegetables into a pan and they began to sizzle in the heated oil. He pulled out some raw meat and began to cut it into thin strips. “Fill that pot with water and hand it to me, will you?”

Sarus did as the other male asked. Horas set the pot on the cooktop. A quiet chime caught their attention.

“I’ll take over,” Sarus offered. “You answer the summons.”

Horas shrugged and walked to the apartment door. He opened it to see a royal courier standing at attention. The courier’s long, lean build contrasted sharply against the powerful, heavy musculature of the palace guard. In response to his proximity to a dangerously unpredictable warrior, the crown agent’s scent turned acrid with sudden fear.

“Colonel Horas mek Ul’Sinha?

Horas nodded. “Be at ease, agent.”

The courier took a breath and looked ready to bolt. He held out the scroll in his hand. “I have a missive from the palace for you.”

Horas nodded again and accepted the packet, having expected it and knowing its contents. “Thank you, agent.”

The courier pressed his palms together in a gesture of respect and deference, then bolted. Horas closed the door and turned around, the scroll in his hand.

“The termination of your commission?” Sarus asked.

Horus opened the scroll and spread it apart. Ink on the heavy vellum praised his centuries of dedicated service to the empire and graciously released him from active duty. His crest rose as he read further.

“What is it?” Sarus added as he poured a white grain the Earthlings called rice into the pot of water. He set the lid on the pot.

“The emperor’s communiqué mentions you, too.”

“Oh?”

“We have both been reassigned.”

“Dirtside,” Sarus grunted.

“Yes, dirtside. The emperor orders us to train new warriors.”

Sarus tilted his head. “Basic training?”

“Yes.”

“I dislike training raw recruits. They offer no challenge, have no finesse.”

“It will be our responsibility to turn them into effective warriors.”

Sarus snorted in displeasure. He’d rather spar with the ferocious, highly trained warriors at his old outpost. Those savages who weren’t above dirty fighting kept his skills sharp. Then he sighed. He was mated and the battleground was now forbidden to him. The empire would not waste fertile mated males as cannon fodder. Ahn’hudi culture deemed little more tragic than a female widowed and her offspring orphaned.

“When do we depart?” he asked.

Horas replied, “Tomorrow.”

“Should we inform our little flame now?”

“Inform me of what?” Evangeline interjected, her expression suspicious. Both males looked at her in surprise. She shrugged and said, “I put everything away. What’s going on?”

“Sarus and I have been reassigned,” Horas said.

Evangeline winced. “Shit, you lost your commission, too? Because of me?” At their lack of confirmation, she exhaled, feeling a surge of guilt. “Oh, guys, I’m so sorry.”

Sarus gaped at her expression of sympathy. He’d not expected his fiery mate to commiserate with their loss on top of hers.

She took a deep breath, licked her lips, and asked, “When do we move?”

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