“What are you?” Balir asked.
“I’m a human,” Nina said.
The sound of claws and hooves over stone had her glancing behind to see Aduun and Vortok drawing nearer.
“What is a hoomin?” Vortok asked.
Aduun stared at Nina with hard eyes. “Some part of Kelsharn’s punishment for us.”
“No, I have nothing to do with Kelsharn,” Nina replied, frowning.
“How is it you speak our language?”
“From my father. He is—was—like you.”
Aduun narrowed his eyes and stepped closer to her. His size wasn’t intimidating — she was used to feeling tiny next to Orishok — but his bestial features and palpable intensity made her heart race.
Balir moved between them, blocking her view of Aduun, and pressed his palm to her chest. Her breath hitched at the sudden contact. He turned his face to the side, directing his eyes elsewhere, nostrils flaring with a deep inhalation.
“Her heart beats in time with my own,” he said after a few moments.
“What?” Confused, Nina dropped her gaze to the place on his chest where his heartstone had vanished.
Balir took her wrist with his free hand. As strange and as lethal as his fingers looked, his touch was gentle. He guided her palm to his chest and pressed it there. His scales were surprisingly smooth and warm. To her shock, the rapid thumping under her hand matched what she felt in her own body.
“That is unnatural,” Aduun growled, “like all of Kelsharn’s tricks.”
“We are unnatural,” Balir said softly. “But this is no trick, Aduun. She is mine. She blooded my heartstone. We are bonded.”
“No, that can’t… I didn’t…” But she knew even before she pulled her hand away, before she turned it to see the blood smeared on her palm. She knew because she felt it, felt a connection to each of them, unlike any mind-to-mind connection she’d made with her psychic abilities; this was deeper, more primal. No matter how hard she tried to shut the sensation out, they remained a steady presence within the recesses of her mind.
Vortok’s massive hand closed over Balir’s shoulder plate, and the big valo shoved the smaller one aside. Balir caught himself against the wall, swung his head around, and hissed, the red spots on his throat flaring brighter. Vortok grunted but otherwise ignored him.
He crouched slowly; even that change of stance had her looking up at him. His wide-featured face wasn’t an attractive one. It was framed by a thick, dark mane that fell over his head, shoulders, and chest, from which jutted large, pointed ears. Horns of varying sizes extended from the top of his head and the bottom of his chin, with another on each side just below and behind his cheekbones. He had the same bony nubs along his brows and below his eyes as Orishok. It was those eyes she stared into; they were as rich and dark a brown as freshly tilled soil. Gentle eyes, Kind eyes.
They almost made it easy to ignore the blood around his mouth and staining the tusks protruding from his full lower lip.
He raised an arm. He possessed only three fingers and a thumb, but each finger looked as thick as Nina’s wrist.
With surprising delicacy, he settled his palm on her chest and was silent for several seconds. “Her heart beats along with mine, as well.” Leaning closer, he drew in another deep breath and released a soft rumble.
Balir approached from the edge of Nina’s vision, falling into place just behind her and to the side.
“That makes no difference,” Aduun said.
“Of course it doesn’t,” Vortok snapped, twisting around to glare at Aduun, “not for one who has given up on his own—”
“I have not given up on our people!” Aduun’s shout was punctuated by the deep tones of a bestial roar. “I have not abandoned them or betrayed them. If there is the slightest chance they yet live, I will take it. But Kelsharn’s greatest lesson has ever been that hope is false. Hope is meaningless. I will not allow him to trick me into hoping.”
Balir combed his fingers through Nina’s hair, drawing her attention to him. The contentment pulsing from him seemed disproportionate to the simplicity of his action. She frowned; why wasn’t she afraid? Why wasn’t she pulling away from them? They were beasts, wild and untamed.
But that wasn’t true, was it? She shifted her gaze between the three of them. Their savagery bristled on the surface, but they were men beneath that, struggling for control.
Vortok grunted dismissively. “I will hold onto my hope. Do as you please, Aduun.” He turned back to Nina and sniffed at her again. “Mmm. I like her smell. She is mine.”
Nina stiffened, eyes wide.
Balir spoke before she could fully process Vortok’s words. “I laid claim upon her already. She shares my life beat.” He settled a hand on her waist and wrapped the end of his tail around her ankle, drawing her back toward him.
Vortok rose to his full height. “She shares mine, also!”
She rocked back, wincing at his sudden flare of anger. Vortok dropped his gaze to her. She sensed the man within seizing control, reining in his fury; his features softened.
“What foolish claims have the two of you made?” Aduun asked, moving closer. The bony protrusions on his face were sharper than those of his companions, and his features bore a decidedly more predatory cast. Long, wicked quills extended from his head and neck, and his body was covered in short brown fur that was run through with dark stripes along his arms and sides. His amber eyes gleamed with reflected light as they roved over her. “We do not know what she is.”
“She is a hoomin,” Vortok said.
“And what is that? A made-up word for a strange creature.”
“We came from the sky.” Nina snapped her mouth shut; she knew immediately it had been the wrong thing to say.
Aduun’s already suspicious expression darkened, and Vortok’s heavy brow dropped. Balir’s hold on her tightened slightly.
“Not like the Creators,” she hurried to amend. “My mother’s people crashed on Sonhadra against their will. They’re survivors, not…not conquerors. There are lots of humans here now. I…I think you’ve been down here for a long time and have missed much. I was born on Sonhadra.”
“You said your father’s people knew our language,” Balir said. “How did he come to learn it?”
“He is my father in all but blood. He was one of your kind and lived with his tribe before Kelsharn turned him into a…valo. He took me in when I was little and taught me everything I know.”
The valos exchanged glances. For the first time, their thoughts were too guarded for her to sense without effort.
“What is his name?” Aduun finally asked after a long, tense silence.
“Orishok.”
Aduun’s eyes widened, and his jaw went slack. “Orishok? Rekesh and Yandi’s son?”
Nina knew those names from stories Orishok had told her, knew their faces from the memories those stories had woken within him. She nodded.
“Yandi was sister to my mother. Orishok is barely grown enough to hold a spear,” Aduun said, eyes narrowing again.
Nina frowned at Aduun before glancing at Balir and Vortok. “Like I said… You’ve been down here for a long, long time.”
“How long?” Vortok asked.
“Orishok’s count isn’t certain, but…I think he was made into a valo over a thousand years ago, and he was fully grown when it happened,” Nina replied.
Vortok stared at her in silence, lips parted. Balir’s hand and tail fell away. Despite the power of their shock, it ran only on the surface. The kernel of fear in their hearts said they knew her words were true.
Aduun clenched his jaw, an intense light sparking in his eyes. Whatever emotions he’d been emitting ceased, as though he’d closed himself off to her — or shut out his feelings. “You know of Kelsharn. Where is he now?”
“No one knows. We believe all the remaining Creators left Sonhadra, but there’s no way to be sure of it. He’s been gone for hundreds of years.”
Aduun’s nostrils expande
d with a heavy exhalation as he turned his head, looking around the chamber. “We cannot trust Kelsharn or this place, but we have no other choice. We must move forward. If our people live, we will find them and take our freedom.”
—and whether they do or not, I will find Kelsharn, tear his heart from his chest, and devour it before his eyes—
The cold certainty of Aduun’s thought sent a shiver along Nina’s spine. She had no doubt that death was the only thing that would deter him from his goal. She nearly told him again that Kelsharn was gone, that he could ease his fury, that he could find a new purpose, but she knew he wouldn’t believe her.
“Into the unknown, then,” Vortok said without a hint of fear in his voice.
“It is as it’s always been,” said Balir. “Not even Sonhadra’s welcoming embrace is a certainty.”
“I want to help,” Nina said.
“Why, hoomin?” Aduun prowled closer, his slow, measured movements belying the immense strength of his body.
Nina curled her hands into fists and lifted her chin. She wouldn’t back down, wouldn’t break eye contact with him. “Because you are my tribe.”
Aduun’s quills slapped down. He stared down at her, threatening to crush her beneath the weight of his gaze. “We are not the same.”
Her bravado cracked but did not crumble. “I don’t understand.”
“You are not one of our people. You are not our tribe.”
The rejection stung; she refused to accept it. “Orishok is my father, and he has made me part of his tribe. Was his mother not sister to yours? He is your tribe, and I am his.”
“And were that not enough,” Balir said, “she has been claimed by two of your tribesmen.”
“One,” Vortok grunted. “My claim is the true one.”
Nina’s cheeks burned. This was new to her. She’d never sought attention, had spent most of her life avoiding it. Wasn’t this what she’d been looking for? Wasn’t this what she’d meant to find in Utopia? A mate?
They’re beasts. Inhuman.
But so is Orishok.
“It is my right to accept or refuse your claims,” she said. “That…that has always been the way.”
Aduun made a dismissive sound deep in his throat, but it was contradicted by something new in his eyes — a hint of respect, of acknowledgment, amidst the scrutiny? Perhaps it was a bit much to hope for, but there’d been some subtle shift in him.
“Very well, hoomin. Tell us your name, that we may commend you to Sonhadra when Kelsharn’s traps kill you.”
Balir and Vortok stepped forward together, the former hissing and the latter producing a low growl.
Nina’s eyes widened at the sudden leap in aggression.
“She is of our tribe, Aduun, and it dishonors us all for you to threaten her,” Vortok said.
“I make no threats.” There was no smugness on Aduun’s face, no wickedness in his gaze as he stared at Nina; instead, she detected a touch of sorrow from him. “Whatever awaits us, its intent will be to lay us low. To destroy us a little at a time. This female is small and soft. Unless she is far tougher than she appears, she will only become another of our tribe I lead to ruin.” He stalked past Vortok, Balir, and Nina.
She reached out and grasped his wrist. His muscles tensed beneath her hold, his quills rose, and his jaw ticked, but he halted.
“My name is Nina, and I swear I will do all I can to help free you and your people. Our people.”
If not for these valos, she’d do it for her father. For so long, he’d thought he was the last, but now…now there was a possibility, however small, to bring his tribe home.
Aduun bowed his head slightly. For a moment, the turmoil within him screamed inside Nina’s mind, a torrent of faces, voices, wails, and screams. Years lost in a crimson haze, years of hunger and anger, hatred growing beneath it like a cancer. Another flash of red mingled with his emotions, but this was different from the rest, this was softer. Not a craving for meat, blood, or vengeance. It was something just as primal, just as powerful…
Lust.
It was lust…for Nina.
Breath quickening, she withdrew her hand abruptly and thrust her mental shields into place. He lifted his eyes, catching her gaze and holding it.
“I am Aduun, once the son of the chieftain of our clan.” He nodded toward the others. “They are Vortok and Balir, the two I trust most in all this world.”
She dipped her head in acknowledgment. “I am honored to know you as my tribesmen.”
Aduun’s eyes lingered upon her for a little longer before he looked to the tunnel. Nina followed his gaze with her own; the illumination cast by the stones extended only ten or fifteen feet beyond the opening, leaving unbroken darkness beyond. If there was light at the other end, it awaited around an unseen corner or was too far away to be visible.
“There is wind,” Aduun said, “though it is weak. And a faint scent… Balir, guide us.”
Nina hurried to Vortok’s cell, snatching up her bag by the strap and kicking aside bones to retrieve her fallen dagger. When she turned around, she stopped short, nearly hitting a wall of muscle. She tipped her head back to look up at Vortok.
“You must stay close, Nina,” he rumbled, placing a hand behind her back and gently steering her ahead of him to Balir and Aduun, who waited at the entrance the tunnel. “I will not allow Sonhadra to claim you, no matter what waits ahead.”
Chapter Four
The tunnel proceeded through total darkness for quite some time, leaving Vortok, Aduun, and Nina deprived of their sight. They were surrounded by the sounds of their feet shuffling over the stone floor, their ragged breaths, and Balir’s throat clicking, all of which were amplified as they echoed off the rock walls.
Vortok kept his arms extended as he walked, feeling for the walls and scenting the air with every few steps. The others moved in front of him, reduced to sounds and smells by the dark — except for Nina. He sensed more of her. Her presence pulsed in his awareness even though he couldn’t see her. It was the thumping of a second heart he felt but could not hear, a tingling sensation on his skin that made his fur stand on end, a soothing heat coursing through his veins.
He could only explain it through his heartstone.
His beast stirred; thoughts of Nina reminded him of Balir’s claim, and the beast was of no mind to share. It wanted nothing more than to tear Balir apart and consummate its claim on the female. To mark her as its possession.
It is my right to accept or refuse your claims. That…that has always been the way.
Nina’s words were true. Such had always been the way, and he could not let the beast he’d become take control and disregard the most sacred traditions of his people.
He clenched his fists. If things were different, if he’d never been changed, he could show her why he was a good choice. He could make things for her, provide for her, and prove himself to be an ideal mate.
The beast wasn’t interested in proving anything but its dominance by destroying any rivals, whether real or perceived.
A wave of calm washed over him, soothing his beast.
Vortok lifted his gaze. Though he couldn’t see her, he knew Nina walked just ahead of him. The sense of calmness was at once foreign and familiar and was somehow accompanied by her scent — no, not her scent, but the memory of it.
The smell of growing things, of plants, trees, and earth, increased steadily as they advanced, and the gentle flow of air strengthened and warmed. There was an opening somewhere ahead.
What would it lead to?
He could not guess how far they’d walked. After so long in a cage, it was refreshing to have new ground to cover, even if he couldn’t see it, but his unease grew as time passed. Vortok would not let go of the hope that their people were alive somewhere, but he could not deny Aduun’s wisdom; Kelsharn would make them suffer before this was all over, and agony was not likely to be the only price they’d pay.
And now Nina was thrown into the middle of it, too.
“The exit is near,” Balir whispered.
Instinctively, Vortok moved ahead of his companions, gently guiding them to stand aside as he passed. Though all their people had been immensely toughened by Kelsharn’s changes, Vortok’s body was designed to shrug off punishment.
He walked forward, his hooved feet falling heavily despite his best efforts. His hackles rose in anticipation; any moment, a trap would be sprung, something would happen, and there’d be pain and blood. The light intensified as he neared the opening, and he lifted a hand to shield against it.
He emerged from the tunnel, blinking rapidly until his eyes adjusted to the blinding light and his new surroundings came into focus.
Vortok stood in a forest. Sunlight filtered through green and purple leaves overhead, which sighed in the soft breeze, and bits of undergrowth brushed at his calves. The air was pleasantly warm. Animals made distant calls; not the roars of quillbeasts or rockfurs, not the piercing wails of shriekers, but the sounds of smaller, gentler beasts accompanied by the high-pitched songs of winged creatures perched in high branches.
He staggered forward, numb, hooves sinking into the layer of dead leaves and the soft, moist soil beneath. Keeping an arm extended, he turned his palm over to stare with wonder at the play of light and shadow upon his palm.
Had Nina spoken the truth? Had he been a thousand years without the sun? It felt…different than he remembered.
The rustling of vegetation behind him marked the approach of his companions.
Aduun walked around Vortok on the right, head tilted back to look up at the trees, tail flicking restlessly. Balir moved forward on Vortok’s left, crouching to run his fingers through the leafy stems of a plant growing at the base of a tree.
But Vortok’s hackles didn’t lower, and Aduun’s quills didn’t settle. Something was off, something was wrong, but Vortok couldn’t place it.
“This…this can’t be right,” Nina said from behind them. “It was the middle of the night when I fell down that hole, but now, it’s nearly midday.” Leaves crunched softly under her boots as she walked up behind Vortok. “I don’t know these woods. They are not the same.”
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