Spinning away from the throne, Fa’suh’s gaze was wrathful as they settled on Rhyst. “Find these invaders on my mountain and deal with them!”
“It shall be done,” Rhyst rumbled. “I will choose two males to accompany me. Between us, we will be able to handle a small group without a problem.”
“Wait! I’ll go too,” Cha’lii interrupted.
Rhyst turned toward his mate, horror filling him. His mate near possible danger? He would not allow it!
“No!”
She scowled at him fiercely. “They are my people. You need me there in case there’s anything at all that can be done to communicate with them or defuse whatever is going on.”
“Agreed,” the king rumbled. “Rhyst, prepare for departure with your mate and report back as soon as possible. Upon your return, we will finalize plans for the colony.”
Rhyst leveled an unhappy look upon his mate. They would speak privately on this later. Returning his attention to the king, he bowed. “It shall be done.”
With that, he scooped his mate up and deposited her on his back. Dread coiled through him as they left the palace. Whatever the reason that humans were in the mountains, he did not trust any of them near his mate.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered at his back. “I have to help my people however I can—even when they’re doing something stupid as fuck.”
He grunted. He understood that desire. He hated it, but he understood. “I do not like this. Nor that the king has allowed it. Since he has, I cannot forbid it, but I would, Cha’lii, if I could. Make no mistake about that.”
“It’ll be fine,” she fought to reassure him. “I will follow your every direction.”
“You most definitely will,” he agreed around a hard growl as he searched out the males he had already selected to accompany them in this small task. When he returned, he would put together an a’sankhii team of the best to infiltrate the colony itself and wrest out its secrets.
Chapter 35
Charlie shifted uncomfortably in her EPS. After so many days wearing nothing but the soft kassans, her old clothing felt alien to her now. She tugged at the fabric gathered around her neck and grimaced, certain that it was trying to choke her. Motherfucker! She could feel Rhyst’s concerned gaze, so she turned an apologetic smile upon him.
“I’m no longer used to wearing this thing… Don’t mind me.”
His concern melted into a scowl. “If your armor is bothering you, maybe it would be best if you wait here.”
“Not a chance, lover,” she said as she began to creep forward toward the soft glow of the encampment nestled in a small area barely level enough for people to sleep without sliding down the side of the mountain.
In the distance, she was aware of the two other a’sankhii creeping around the outskirts of the camp. Every now and then she caught the glow of their eyes. Aysh was probably looking for a willing woman to steal… She would bet all that she owned.
Now if only she could just get close enough to see if it was someone familiar. Someone she would be able to get to talk without too much effort. She licked her lips nervously as she slipped forward through the shadows, searching.
She could hear Rhyst’s impatient growl as he followed close behind. He was not happy…in fact, he was downright pissy. He had tried to talk her into waiting on the shuttle the entire trip, much to the amusement of the males who accompanied them. He had even mumbled about tying her up and leaving her behind while he investigated, but the ship had been lacking in anything that even resembled rope. They had passed the last few hours sitting outside the encampment, in the dark, watching for any sign of life.
Finally, there was movement. A sentry maybe, coming from around the enormous tent. His large frame seemed to almost lumber. Crouching low, Rhyst moved forward, slinking like a shadow, undetected by the unsuspecting human. When he pounced, he struck with enough force to expel the air from the lungs, leaving the guard panting in wide-mouthed gasps.
Padding over, Charlie slipped her knife from its sheath seconds before she straddled his chest, angling her dagger down toward his neck. Rhyst growled in an irritable fashion but didn’t move from his place. The green glow of his eyes, both real and artificial, cut through the low light of the camp. The only other light was coming from the guard’s helmet. Squinting through its