by Alison Aimes
Now, she was worrying a lot.
Grif’s commanding gaze flickered from her to the sharp teeth at his throat and back again, the grip around his knife handle unwavering. “Step away.”
Her beast growled once more, responding to the aggression in the male’s voice, torn between obeying her and his own survival instincts.
“P-please. H-he listen to me. Won’t attack. L-let me call him off.”
Grif’s scowl deepened.
Her chest went tight. She knew what she was asking. It was one thing to curb his strength when he held all the control, but this was different. To give up his advantage would require true trust.
She should not even ask it of him. Not after her own hesitations. Not after all she had done since Sharluff knocked him down, letting pride, anger, and fear guide her actions rather than faith. He had every right to laugh in her face.
“Actions, Nayla.” His soft words jerked her from her thoughts, no trace of laughter in his gaze. “Sometimes they matter more the words.”
She didn’t understand until, gaze locked with hers, he retracted his hand, the sharp edge of his dagger lifting off Sharluff’s vulnerable throat.
Her heart slammed against her ribs. He was trusting her.
With renewed strength, she jerked on Sharluff’s feathered neck and wrenched him away. “Taneh doluf. Ahorte!” She didn’t hesitate, calling her beast to stand down with the firmest, most commanding tones she’d ever employed.
For a heartbeat, the stubborn, feathered beast remained still and her heart slammed inside her chest, her fear that she would not be able to prove worthy making her stomach contract.
Thankfully, the big brute gave a grunt and let her lead him away, his feathers ruffling with excitement as he bumped his side into her, his aggression forgotten as he accepted her command and settled back into his usual docile mode.
Grif rose slowly, his knife still high in his hand.
She guided her pet a safe distance away, lashing his lead to the rock so he could not break free.
She and Grif stared at each other.
“You stay hand and let Sharluff live.” She couldn’t get over it.
“He’s important to you.”
She blinked hard. Not a single soul had ever been concerned with what mattered to her.
He took a step closer. “I’m not perfect, Nayla. You know that better than anyone.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I won’t always be able to go against my nature and back down, but I’m also not a mindless destroyer. I can control myself. For you.”
Her breathing came faster.
“I want to be a good leader for my people. I’ve made no secret of that. But I’m learning from you, wild thing. I’m learning I won’t get there making demands or adhering to rigid lines. You push me—and that’s good.” He took another step in her direction. “Let’s work together as a team to get the females back and prevent a war.”
“Team.” She let the word twist around her tongue, the concept more exotic than the Other himself. She had never been made such an offer before. To be a part of something beyond herself. To be on the inside. She had wanted that for so long.
A safe place to land? Maybe she truly had found that, after all.
“I won’t lie to you, Nayla. Not ever.” He allowed her no quarter. “My people are nervous about your pack’s intentions. Your kind wants mine dead. We’ve got a ways to go until we can solve this situation without bloodshed. But look at us.” He lowered his voice. “We aren’t where we started out at all.”
“Th-that is truth.”
“I’ve always been a fighter and a protector. It’s who I am. It’s also what I think you need.” He stalked toward her, his glittering predatory eyes as intent as ever. “Give me a chance.”
It was a risk. She did not know how to be a part of a team. She did not even know how Others worked or if she could trust Grif to keep his word about the lack of bloodshed.
But there was also the chance that it was all possible.
Actions, not words. Grif was right. It was time to take a risk.
She was done being afraid to go for what she wanted, and what she craved was to be a part of something worthy and to have someone by her side who saw her as such.
Grif might not realize it yet, but she was a fighter and a protector, too. For the first time, she saw what she truly desired. Standing right in front of her.
If there was a chance she could gain acceptance and save her pack, she had to take the chance. If she could find the connection with Grif she’d always longed for, she had to try.
Hadn’t she told herself that from here on out she went for what she coveted?
Tipping up her chin, she cleared her throat and met his stare head-on. “I come with you. We work as team.”
His smile crinkled all the way to his eyes this time. It brought on that same strange fluttering in her chest.
“It’s going to be good. We’re going to fix this.” As usual, he spoke as if there was no other possibility. “I see only one potential problem.”
She stiffened. “What?”
His gaze shifted over her shoulder. “Him.”
Sharluff brayed in agreement.
31
“If no one’s going to eat them, can someone pass the leftovers?”
Grif chucked the last bars toward Zale, grateful to the guy for being such a damn pig, and for breaking the silence.
Hand snaking out at a near blur, his teammate caught the food so fast the tiny black braids at his forehead and beard barely moved.
“Thanks.” Zale shoved the bars into his mouth and then returned to staring at the flames.
Grif sighed.
Dinner around the fire was usually a lively affair. Not tonight. Tension left a sharp tang in the air, adding to the smoke and crackle of flames.
Bain was doing a lot of thoughtful contemplation of the dirt, his potion bottles clanking as he shifted on the rock he was using as a seat.
Jagger and Nash kept elbowing each other in the ribs, trying to get the other to talk first. Quil, comatose as usual, darted glances at the cluster of noncrew sitting on the other side of the fire.
It was hard to determine who he was staring at. Cam and Lana were both there, but so was Britta, a tall, strapping redhead with a soft demeanor who’d been a Resistance soldier before she was sent to Dragath25.
“When is Maddox returning?” Bain broke the silence.
“As soon as he’d relayed the latest news to the commander and gotten any additional orders.”
The silence stretched once more.
This had all seemed a lot easier when it had just been him, Nayla, and a sharp-beaked beast that wanted to eat him.
“Here.” Malin tossed Zale his bar as well. “You can have mine, too. I’m not hungry.” He leveled an accusatory glare Grif’s way.
The other male was still adjusting.
Grif and Nayla had slept for as short a time as possible while still allowing them to function. Then they started back the way they’d come. They’d met up with the hunting party not too far from where she’d made camp. There’d been shouts, some back slapping, Maddox had even given him a hug. All of which had left Nayla wide-eyed, skittish, and a heartbeat from making a break for it. He’d held fast to her hand the whole walk back to where the others had erected their tents, just in case.
He understood. Encountering so many Others would have been strange under any circumstances: new traditions, new behaviors, new faces, but it was made doubly challenging by the fact that his crew had been out looking for him, certain he was in trouble, maybe even dead.
Suspicion and resentment still simmered in the air.
Added to that, there was a giant beaked creature looming outside the circle, making strange yips and growls as it gnawed on fresh meat it was unwilling to share.
But the crew would learn to deal with Sharluff, just like they would the tiny pixie staring so intently at everything and everyone, he wasn’t sure she’d blinked once.
<
br /> “You okay, wild thing?” He’d leaned in close so he could keep their conversation as private as possible.
“Yes.” She shivered as his lips brushed her ear, but didn’t face him. He hid a chuckle. Talk about concentration.
“So, Nayla,” Bain brushed a crumb from his chin, his voice inquisitive as he tried to break the silence.
Grif was beyond grateful.
“I hear you can hold your breath longer than we can?”
Grif’s gratitude evaporated. Dumbass. She didn’t need to feel different right now. Sitting up straight, he opened his mouth to rip Bain a new one.
“Yes.” Nayla got there first. She sounded so proud, he snapped his mouth shut. “It very helpful in tunnels, but not necessary. Sharluff also very useful. I show you tomorrow.”
His irritation disappeared as fast as it had come. Pride rushed through him. Nayla was doing fine.
He needed to relax.
He let the conversation wash over him.
Bain’s question had opened the floodgates for more stupid, nosy questions, and the males on his team had a lot. About her skin, her size, her lung capacity. Still, Nayla didn’t seem to mind and Grif was pleased every time she spoke up, so he kept his mouth shut.
Of course, Malin wasn’t participating. He sat there sulking, his scowl deepening with every answer Nayla gave.
He wasn’t the only one.
Lana, too, hadn’t said a word. She sat on the opposite side of the fire, her face pale, her stare locked on the press of his thigh against Nayla’s smaller one and the way their fingers were intertwined and resting on his leg.
He resisted the urge to curse. He really hoped Lana wasn’t going to be a problem. She was friends with the other females. If she turned against Nayla, it would be harder for him to get the others to accept her. But he would. He didn’t care if he had to have a sit-down with each and every one of the females on this mission. They were going to befriend his female.
A small squeeze of his hand drew his attention. He smiled down at Nayla.
She didn’t smile back. “Your eyes angry again.”
Hells. He’d have to fix that. “I’m good.” He ran his thumb along hers.
“Enough!” Malin erupted. “This is ridiculous. This is not a damn cocktail party. We are under siege and she’s the reason.” He threw his hands in the air. “We need to be discussing plans, not getting all touchy-feely.”
“We will.” Grif mined for patience. “I’ve already briefed you on what Nayla told us about the terrain and defenses we can expect. At the suns’ rise, she’ll show us the underwater tunnels we can use to cut our travel time in half.”
“How do we know she’s not leading us into a trap?”
“That’s enough.” An outburst of violence was the last thing Grif wanted Nayla to see her first night at the camp, but the male’s tone was beginning to irk. “I told you before, she’s here to help us. I expect you to afford her respect. Nayla is a guest, not a prisoner.”
“Bullshit.”
Grif’s bid for control slipped a notch. “Not here, not now.”
“Why? You afraid for everyone to hear you’re thinking with your little head and not the big one?”
“Malin, you are out of line,” snapped Bain. “Grif is in charge of this mission.”
“Should he be, or has he lost all objectivity? You see her. She’s fucking hot as hells, all big tits, wide-eyed innocence, and golden shimmering skin. Catnip to a guy like Mr. Perfect over there with a hard-on to rescue every female he can.”
Grif was up and out of his seat—only Nayla’s tight grip prevented him from launching himself across the fire.
“It okay.” She tried to soothe.
But it wasn’t. Not by a long shot.
Except he was in charge now and he needed to keep his cool. Especially since he was out to prove to Nayla that Others were not violent savages.
“Malin, this is not the place for this discussion. You have something to say to me, let’s take this to your tent.” His gaze strayed pointedly toward the noncrew females and Nayla. He preferred to pound the snotnose male into the ground away from prying eyes.
“No.” Lana shot up, her fists clenched. “We do not want to be left out of any more discussions. We are a part of this community. It’s time we get this all out in the open so we can put it to rest.”
Ah, hells. This was going to be ugly. He understood Lana had been through a lot, but he wasn’t going to tolerate Nayla being hurt. “Lana, I won’t have you—”
“Malin” she spoke over him, “stop being an asshole.”
For the second time, Grif’s mouth snapped shut.
The other male’s eyes went wide. Lana was usually soft-spoken so Grif suspected Malin had never heard that tone from her before.
“You have no right to bully this poor girl.” She sucked down a breath. “She’d been through enough.”
Relief swept through Grif. “Thank you, Lana—”
“And you,” she pointed a trembling finger at him, “I know what you did and I…” she looked at the other women, “we won’t stand for it. Not again. You may be in charge of this mission, but it doesn’t mean we’ll let you walk all over her.”
Gesturing to the other two females, she marched around the fire, wedging herself between him and his charge, giving him no choice but to let go of Nayla’s hand or body check Lana back across the fire.
He chose the nonviolent route since the angry female was clearly on team Nayla.
From the dazed, slightly pleased look on his female’s face, he suspected he made the right choice.
“Nayla is under our protection now,” declared Lana.
“She can stay with us in our tent,” declared Britta, looking at him as if he was the enemy. Cam nodded in agreement.
The fuck? He was already shaking his head when Malin outyelled him.
“No damn way, Lana.” The male was beside himself. “A hostile next to you while you sleep? Are you crazy?”
“You’re the hostile,” snapped Lana, making Grif like her even more, despite the objectionable tent-sharing plan, “and you need to stop thinking you’re the boss just because I let you kiss me. It was one time, and it was a mistake.”
The crew got busy studying their boots.
“Lana…” Malin didn’t sound so tough now.
“No. It’s not happening again. Accept it.”
Grif would have wished himself anywhere else. He almost felt sorry for the scowling male, but he knew this was useful for Nayla to witness.
Especially since Malin plopped his bitter ass back down and started mumbling to himself.
Even from over the crowd, Grif read the surprise in Nayla’s gaze.
“We’re taking her to our tent where she’ll feel safe to talk.” Lana leveled a warning glare in his direction before wrapping her arm around Nayla’s tiny shoulder. The female wasn’t too tall herself, but she looked like a giant next to his pixie. “She’s one of us now.”
He’d never forget the expression on Nayla’s face. The surprise and pleasure, the hungry need and flaring hope, the flash of joy—all of it would be branded in his mind forever.
He wanted her wearing that look for all time. He didn’t care what he had to do to make it happen.
“Don’t try and follow us.” Sweeping Nayla forward, Lana and the other females surged away.
“Hold up.”
Everyone froze. His tone brooked no other response.
He had no problem with folks speaking their mind, but, in the end, he made the final call. That reality wasn’t up for discussion.
Civilians, though, sometimes didn’t quite get the pecking order until they were reminded.
Lana swung back around, fear and fire in her gaze. He liked her a hundred times better for it. His girl needed all the protectors she could get, even those who were frightened themselves.
He held up his hands in a gesture of peace. “You’ll get no objection from me…as long as Nayla is okay with the plan
.”
He didn’t want his wild thing pushed into anything, and he wasn’t unaware of the nerves beneath her astonishment. She was as scared as she was excited by the other female’s support.
“You always have the right to say what you want,” he told her. “To me, to them, and especially to Malin.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw Lana and Cam startle, as if neither had expected him to give Nayla a choice, but he was too focused on the shy smile blooming right in front of him to care much about anything else.
“Yes.” His wild thing blew out a slow breath and nodded. “I okay with this.”
It all had to be so strange, but she was as brave as ever. Grif would have cheered, but his throat was too tight.
She chewed on her lip. “You watch Sharluff?”
He hid a groan. “Of course.” Good thing the creature’s leash was tied fast to a sturdy rock, anchored by knots Grif had triple-checked could not come undone. “Have fun.”
A few clicks and hand gestures in Sharluff’s direction, another small smile for him, and Nayla was on her way, her smaller form soon swallowed up by the others as they clustered around her and led her toward the females’ tent.
His chest went tight.
Every nerve inside him shrieked in protest. Help me. He hadn’t been vigilant enough when he was young and look where that had gotten him. But he wanted Nayla to have what she wanted, too.
Behind him, he heard Sharluff’s pitiful growls and some chuffing that sounded a lot like get back here and pet me. He knew the feeling. Who would have known he and the feathery beast would have something in common?
He’d envisioned that protecting Nayla would mean having her by his side twenty-four seven, at least at the start. Now, he was beginning to see it meant letting her go way sooner than expected.
It was harder than he thought it would be.
32
“Are you thirsty?”
Nayla shook her head.