Prideful Savage (A Warrior's Redemption #1) - Miranda Bridges Page 0,5
“Don’t bother trying to intervene; the next bullet shot from either of us will be lodged directly between your eyes.”
I stand my ground as they barge past, deliberately nudging my shoulder as they do. I don’t retaliate in fear of distressing the villagers more. Across the other side of the fire, his face shrouded in fragmented shadows, stands Xalen. With a shake of his head, he follows the twins. Their mutiny is hardly a surprise to me; my team is, after all, composed of convicts, which includes myself.
“Now what?” Varyx’s quiet yet stern voice drags my focus off the natives covering the shaman’s body in bright flowers.
“I don’t know about you, brother, but I need a fucking drink.”
He claps my shoulder. “That, my friend, is music to my ears.”
“There was a cantina not too far from where we docked,” Ezarith says, nodding eastward. “I think I even saw some females.”
It’s in response to this that Kalach finally speaks up. “Of course you did. You’ll fuck anything with a pulse, and I bet you can sniff them a mile out.”
“Cunts have a delicious scent.” Ezarith shrugs with a nonchalant smile.
Well, he has a point.
Before we set off for the inn, we leave what credits we can afford for the shaman’s burial—if they conduct them here. But even then, I am fully aware that no monetary offering will bring back their dead. A flicker of remorse grips me at the sight of the shaman’s body. As exasperating as the male had been, he did not deserve this.
Varyx exchanges quiet words with one of the female natives and then he looks at me. “They’re asking what they should do with Tyrez.”
“Toss him in a ditch and let him rot,” I say, disappearing into the shadows.
Seated at one of the small benches at the corner of the tavern, we all stare pensively into our pints of ale. The strange, unfamiliar taste, and even consistency, is nothing like Incarus alcohol. This one is sweet as opposed to bitter, and the foam fizzes as it trickles down my throat. I’m transported back to the lake for a moment as I swallow the liquid, recalling how I struggled to keep the water down too. The stifling heat on this planet, the ale, the lakes…I’m sick of them. And I’m sick of my mark burning ever since I entered this building.
I take another drink and stretch out my legs underneath the table. For a long while, none of us speak. I savor the silence and use it to reflect on the events of today. We were tasked with finding a cure for our species, and instead we’ve doomed ourselves. And lost a brother after he butchered an innocent civilian. Embittered again about our predicament, I exhale and slowly rotate my neck, my gaze drawing over the heads of the patrons. They’re a strange assortment of males, mostly, but I recognize a few of their species from the AoS.
Ezarith, with his back to the wall, turns to Varyx. “You’re awfully quiet compared to the rest of us. Why were you sent to the AoS?”
My friend takes one look at Ezarith and then swigs his ale. “Homicide. You?”
Lifting his brows, the short-haired warrior pulls his lips into another of his usual smirks. Is there ever a time when he isn’t smiling or trying to fuck something?
“I seduced the commander’s daughter,” he says, answering my unuttered question. He’s the most insatiable Incarus I’ve ever met. “And his wife. On more than one occasion.” He swallows his drink and licks the foam from around his mouth. “Apparently that’s a line you just never cross, especially when you vowed to guard them with your life. Not fuck them with your cock.”
Chuckling, I sip my drink and shake my head at the warrior’s audacity. But I can’t really be surprised. Our species is highly libidinous by nature, and when we are not fucking or fighting, we’re enticing other species into our realm of ecstasy—much to the displeasure of their mates. It’s the allure of our species, the endless lust we provoke in others. They cannot resist us. And if we are not strong enough to resist our thirst, we cannot resist them, which can sometimes end up costing them their lives.
“So you were sent here for pissing off the commander in charge of our mission?” I ask. “The one who will decide if we live or die once this is all over?”
Ezarith finishes off his ale with a wink. “Yup.”
“Takes real balls, brother.” I