Unleashed

by Tiffany Roberts

  “There are trees as far as I can see, and open sky overhead,” Aduun said. “My eyes tell me that is true, but I feel…caged.” He tilted his head and rolled his shoulders, quills bristling.

  Vortok drew in a deep breath through his nose. The scents in the air were numerous, layered, and complex — each type of plant and tree had a distinct smell, all mixing with the odors of decaying leaves, damp earth, and numerous unseen animals. But there was another scent threaded through the rest, subtle but undeniable — the same scent produced by the rocks and moisture in the tunnel.

  Their proximity to the cave explained that pervasive smell until Vortok recalled that they’d been moving against the breeze on their way out. Even now, the air was blowing the direction of the cave’s mouth, which meant the scent should’ve been diminished even this close.

  He turned toward the tunnel, and everything inside him froze. “Aduun.”

  Seeing Vortok’s face, Nina turned as well and stumbled forward a couple steps. “What…”

  “What is the matter?” Balir asked.

  “The tunnel is gone,” Aduun replied.

  They were surrounded entirely by thick forest. There was no tunnel behind them, no rock face, not even a mound of dirt. Just trees and undergrowth, gnarled roots and dangling vines.

  Balir and Aduun moved to stand beside Vortok. The rock-scent lingered, and he could almost feel something there; how could it have disappeared?

  The glowing points on Balir’s neck pulsated with his clicks. “The tunnel is sealed, but there was no way out in that direction, anyway,” he said. “We must simply keep the cliffside at our back as a point of reference.”

  “There is no cliffside, Balir,” Vortok said.

  Balir frowned, tilting his head. “You have eyes, yet you cannot see?” He walked forward, passing Nina, and extended his hand. There was a soft slapping sound as his palm struck something unseen, and he halted. “This cliff.”

  “There is nothing there,” Vortok insisted.

  Nina moved beside Balir and tentatively reached out a hand. It pressed up flat against empty air. “It’s here.” She set her other hand next to the first and leaned forward, pushing. Her hands remained in place, but her feet slid backward over the ground, making small ruts in the leaves and dirt as though she were shoving against an immovable object. By the extreme angle of her body, she should have fallen.

  Aduun stalked to a place beside them and touched the invisible wall. “More of Kelsharn’s tricks. We are still underground.”

  “None of you can see the rock?” Balir asked.

  Nina backed away and turned her gaze toward the canopy. “No.”

  Vortok joined the other valos and reached forward. His hand was stopped abruptly by a hard, stony surface, but his eyes beheld only open air. Despite what he knew of Kelsharn’s magic, this was jarring; how could something so large and solid be made invisible?

  “It’s a reflection,” Nina said.

  The valos turned to look at her.

  “This is stone,” Vortok said, frowning. “It is not like the surface of a lake. It cannot hold a reflection.”

  “I know, but what I mean is that it’s like…a mirror image.” She moved to stand beside a boulder that was covered in large, purple leaves and fuzzy moss, with vibrant orange fungus growing down one side. “Do you see this? The same exact boulder is behind you.”

  Furrowing his brow, Vortok twisted to look over his shoulder. It only took a moment to pick out the orange fungus amidst the other colors. He swung his gaze between the two boulders several times, searching for a detail that would prove she was wrong. A detail that would prove the tunnel hadn’t closed behind them and vanished, that they’d just walked farther than they realized…

  But she was correct. Now that she’d pointed it out, he saw more mirroring around the boulder. Trees, undergrowth, roots; it was all the same, simply reversed. The only things that weren’t reflected were the valos and their hoomin.

  Vortok turned his attention to her, allowing himself to study her in the full light for the first time. Nina wasn’t built like one of his people. She was shorter, slighter, and softer, and lacked the bony protrusions on her face, elbows, and knuckles. Vortok’s people possessed no natural fur before Kelsharn changed them, but Nina had a mane of her own, long and shimmering despite its dishevelment, hanging halfway down her back. She was undoubtedly feminine. Something about her petite figure allured him, excited him, and triggered all his protective instincts.

  “It does us no good to linger here,” Aduun said. He turned and walked away from the invisible rock face, drawing Vortok’s gaze away from Nina. “We must attempt to provision ourselves and move on. It would not be like Kelsharn to afford us peace for long.”

  Vortok grunted his assent. “A fire and some roasted meat would go a long way in easing my beast.”

  “Satisfying this hunger would be welcome,” Balir said, turning his face toward Vortok. “It has been some time since most of us ate.”

  “I would have shared, were I able,” Vortok replied defensively. His gaze flicked to Nina. Her uncomfortable expression gave him pause, and only then did he think about how the scene must’ve appeared to her — a huge, furious rockfur tearing a shrieker to pieces and gorging itself on the bloody flesh. Had she not escaped the cell, it would have been her next.

  Her blood staining his tusks, drying in his fur.

  Their eyes met briefly before Nina looked away, her skin paler than a moment before. The change in her color made the cuts and smears of blood on her flesh stand out starkly.

  She swallowed, wet her lips with her tongue, and turned toward Aduun and Balir. “How did you survive so long down there with no food or water?”

  “We are valos,” Balir said. “We are flesh and blood, but our flesh and blood are…no longer of Sonhadra.”

  “Kelsharn’s making left us unable to die of starvation or thirst,” Aduun said, moving ahead of the others to scan their surroundings. “None of us know how, or why, only that it is. But it does not stop the cravings of our beasts. Our hunger only strengthens as time goes by, and madness grows with it.”

  Balir went to stand beside Aduun, head turned as though listening. “Animals would sometimes fall through the ceilings of our cages. Just enough food to keep us from losing our minds completely.”

  Vortok walked forward and stopped next to Nina. He glanced down at her. “Our beasts were in control, but he wanted us to remember.”

  “To suffer,” she said, frowning.

  All three valos nodded.

  “That’s why your heartstones were there, isn’t it?” she asked, glancing between them before her eyes returned to Vortok’s. “You could see them, you knew what they were, but they were out of reach. Taunting you.”

  “And despite our fury, we could not free ourselves,” Vortok said.

  “But he knew you would get out someday. When I knocked over that stand, it triggered something.”

  “Yes.” Aduun’s response drew Vortok and Nina’s attention at once. “We owe you our freedom from those cages, but none of us are free of this place. We must press onward.” He turned and walked deeper into the forest.

  Balir hesitated, keeping his face toward Nina, and sniffed the air. “Once we stop, you must wash off the blood, Nina. It is…tempting my hunger. And if I can smell it—” He lowered his head, eyes downcast, and his silence allowed the sounds of the forest creatures to return to focus. “—so can everything else.”

  Nina extended her arms and turned them, frowning at the many scrapes and scratches marring her skin. Similar marks covered her legs. The cut on her empty palm was more significant, as were the small puncture wounds on her shoulders.

  “You’re right,” she said, lowering her arms.

  “He is not going to eat you,” Vortok muttered, hoping Balir would sense his heavy stare even if he couldn’t see it.

  “Of course I’m not going to eat her,” Balir replied with a frown. “You’d best clean yourself, t
oo, Vortok. The stink of blood is even stronger on you.”

  Vortok wiped the back of his hand over his mouth. It came away with a smear of dark, moist blood. The savagery of his attack on the shrieker was fresh in his own mind; it wasn’t the first animal he’d killed and eaten as a beast, but knowing Nina had been horrified by what she’d seen made his stomach churn.

  That wasn’t who he was supposed to be. That wasn’t Vortok. And now it was Nina’s first memory of him. He’d never known greater remorse than he felt in that moment.

  The beast cared not at all about his shame.

  “I don’t think he’s going to slow down,” Nina said gently, averting her gaze from Balir and Vortok. “We should go.”

  She set off after Aduun. Balir lingered a moment longer before accompanying her. Vortok watched them move, his gaze once more trailing over her body, and shook himself free of his stupor. He glanced toward the invisible wall one last time before following his companions.

  Chapter Five

  No one spoke as they trudged onward. Aduun remained ahead of the others, setting a grueling pace. Nina guessed it was merely due to his eagerness to find his people; he didn’t trust her, and he wanted to keep some space between them. She didn’t need to delve into his mind to know it. His distrust surrounded him in a cloud, reminding her of the thick mists that clung to Bahmet from dusk to dawn.

  Nina’s weariness weighed on her a little more with every step; what sleep she’d managed before the shriekers woke her hadn’t been enough. Maintaining the mental barriers between herself and the valos grew more difficult the longer they walked.

  Vortok and Balir remained close, the former’s steps loud and heavy while the latter’s were silent. If not for his soft clicking and the occasional glimpse of him from the corner of her eye, she might’ve forgotten Balir was there.

  She couldn’t quite wrap her mind around what had happened, around what she had found. Orishok had never mentioned these valos, and she’d never seen so much as a glimpse of them in the memories he’d shared. Knowing that Kelsharn, despite his centuries-long absence, had devised ways to continue tormenting these valos was disturbing. She’d known he’d been a cruel master, but she’d never stopped to consider the depths to which his cruelty might’ve delved.

  Nina wiped the sweat from her forehead and hissed as it stung the abraded skin on the back of her hand. She glanced down at the scrapes and crinkled her nose. She was lucky to have made it out of the cave with only cuts and bruises; it could’ve been far worse.

  She might not have made it out at all.

  I might never have made it out of my camp to begin with…

  She’d been stupid to think she could’ve made it to Utopia on her own. One night by herself, and what had happened? Her father would be so disappointed in her. Quinn would be furious, and Nina knew when she returned home — if she returned home — her parents would forbid her from ever leaving Bahmet again. Nina smirked.

  Not that being cooped up in Bahmet is a bad thing. I like being there.

  Nina glanced at the valos around her. If any good came of her foolishness, it’d be them. If they were able to find their people, win their freedom, and return with her to Bahmet, the danger would have been worth it.

  She was reminded of her weariness when they reached a steep hillside. It was only ten or fifteen feet high, and the thick, tangled roots jutting from the dirt offered adequate holds, but the climb proved far more work than it should’ve been. Vortok and Balir lingered behind her; she felt their concern in her mind and their eyes on her skin and knew they were waiting to catch her if she fell.

  When she finally made it to the crest, she dusted her hands off and nearly leapt back down to the bottom when she looked up to find Aduun less than a foot away, staring down at her. Her heart leapt into her throat, and hot, tingling fear pulsed across her skin for a moment. She understood Balir’s quiet movements — unless they were actively hunting, shriekers were nearly silent — but Aduun was powerfully built, with broad, heavily muscled shoulders and thick arms. His talent for stealth was unnerving.

  “There is a stream ahead,” he said, expression unreadable. Nina could only detect mild confusion and a hint of that mistrust projecting from his mind. He stared at her for another moment before turning and stalking off.

  Balir pulled himself up smoothly beside her. Cracking branches, shifting dirt, and a soft grunt marked Vortok’s destructive ascent, and his hulking form filled her periphal vision a few seconds later.

  “Are you well, Nina?” Balir asked.

  “I’m fine,” she said, looking at him. “Aduun said there is a stream ahead.”

  His slight smile told her that he’d already heard.

  “Hope it is deep,” Vortok grumbled.

  The three of them continued walking side-by-side; after about fifteen yards, the sound of running water grew clear to Nina. The ground gradually descended to an area ahead where the vegetation thickened. Aduun’s upper half was visible amidst the long grass.

  “We made it!” She grinned. The sound of rushing water instilled her with new energy, and she quickened her steps, brushing aside the tall grass until she reached the stream. The clear, shallow water along the bank displayed a plethora of rocks and pebbles on the streambed, darkening slightly as it deepened near the stream’s center.

  Vortok knelt at the water’s edge, dunked a hand in, and scooped out a palmful. He held it to his nose and sniffed before taking a sip. “It is clean.”

  Nina didn’t waste another second. She lifted her bag off her shoulder, pausing to remove her soap from within, and set it down on the dry ground nearby. Removing her belt and sheathed dagger, she placed them atop her bag and kicked off her boots beside it. The feel of the cool, damp ground under her feet made her sigh in relief. Reaching back, she unlaced her skirt and shoved it down before pulling her top off over her head. She tossed both garments near her other belongings.

  Without a backward glance, she waded into the stream.

  When the refreshingly cool water reached her hips, she stopped and cupped handfuls of it to wet her arms, shoulders, and face before scrubbing them with the soap. It stung her wounds on first contact but soon felt blissful against her heated skin, soothing her minor aches. Angling her head down, she studied a set of puncture wounds left by Aduun’s claws. She pressed a finger to one of the holes and winced at the pain even her gentle touch produced. She’d have to tend to them soon.

  Her wince became a cringe as she recalled the state of the floors in the valos’ cells; she’d really have to see to these wounds soon.

  Nina took a few more moments to enjoy the water, moving slightly upstream from the soap to drink her fill. Once she felt clean of blood and dirt, she turned back to the bank and froze.

  All three valos stared at her intently, their eyes alight. Aduun stood with his body in profile, but his face was turned toward her. Vortok and Balir were crouched beside the water. Without anything to distract her, their hunger swept over Nina. But this wasn’t hunger in their guts. This was blood-heating, heart-pounding lust, the same lust she’d felt a hint of earlier.

  And it was coming from all of them.

  Her core tightened, and a spark ignited low in her belly. Their arousal became her own; it warmed her skin, sent anticipatory tingles throughout her body, and filled her with want. Her breath became shallow. Suddenly, she was aware not only of her own nakedness, but theirs.

  Nina’s gaze traveled over their forms slowly, taking in the breadth of their shoulders, the defined muscles of their chests and abdomens, and their strong, sculpted limbs. Their differences — fur, claws, quills, hooves, and tails — didn’t register with her. They were wholly male; solid, powerfully built, and dangerously sensual despite — or perhaps because of — their savageness.

  Her eyes dropped to Aduun’s pelvis. His cock was erect, thick, and swollen, standing out starkly against the dark fur around his groin. Nina’s lips parted as her breath escaped her.

  She’d seen
male parts when she was younger, but none had looked like this.

  Mouth suddenly dry, Nina ran her tongue over her lips and lifted her gaze to meet Aduun’s. His eyes flickered with arousal, lust, need, as though his desire were flames burning within them. For a few seconds, she was certain he’d walk up to her and take her right there; his strained muscles, drawn expression, and clenched fists belonged to a man about to lose control.

  Shockingly, part of her wanted him to.

  His eyes widened, and his quills rose. He shook himself, snarled, and broke eye contact with her, storming off into the tall grass.

  It was enough to shake Nina from her haze. She blinked, shifting her attention to Balir and Vortok. Their desire was as clear as Aduun’s had been, demonstrated both through their projected thoughts and the hardened cocks she glimpsed between their thighs.

  Crossing her arms over her chest, Nina walked toward her belongings on the bank.

  She’d never been ashamed of her body or nudity, and the shame she felt now was unrelated to either; it was brought on instead by her own thoughtlessness. Orishok’s people didn’t view nakedness as a taboo, but these valos were males — males who’d gone over a thousand years without sex, who harbored primal beasts within them, two of whom had already attempted to lay claim upon her. She couldn’t expect Aduun, Vortok, and Balir to control their beasts all the time. She’d felt the power of their instinctual drives and knew their struggles weren’t easy despite the increased control afforded by their heartstones.

  Why give them one more reason to battle their natures?

  She felt their heavy gazes on her as she tossed her soap into her bag, gathered her clothing, and hurriedly dressed, the moisture on her skin making it a struggle to pull the fabric into place. She didn’t look their way even as she sat down to tug on her boots.

  Once she was done, she lifted her bag into her lap and opened it. “Are you hungry?” She shook her head. “Dumb question. Of course you are.”