“True.” He agreed to be polite—and to move his second along. He wasn’t a fan of messy. Fortunately, his potential mess was all cleaned up and everything squared away. Nayla was safe under his protection, and he was leading the mission to save the missing females.
Things were back on track.
Sliding the rock back in place, he strode down the corridor.
He knew it was going to be hard to convince Nayla to trust him after this interruption. Her walls were up and she felt betrayed. But he was more determined than ever.
This time he was going to be more than enough.
“Finally.” He turned the corner and entered the cavern where he’d left her. “You okay, wild thing? I—”
The space was empty.
23
Nayla’s head burst out of the water, her lungs sucking in a desperate gasp of air as the chute she’d bounced through finally spat her out.
The underwater tunnel originating in the bathing hole had proven deeper and longer than expected, the chute tighter and darker, but thankfully her lung capacity hadn’t been tainted by her origins. Like the rest of the pack, she could hold her breath for long periods. As she’d learned from painful experience, Others were not so well equipped.
Bobbing along, she sought to orient herself, the churning pink and orange rapids cooling her skin while never quite reaching the fire burning between her thighs.
Or the bleeding wounds in her chest.
Her captor had never used a dagger or whip, never broken her skin, and yet she’d felt cut to pieces all the same.
She needs approval. Praise. She’s been told she was worthless her whole life and is desperate to hear otherwise.
With a shuddering breath, she surveyed the rocky underground river canyon.
Glittering crimson- and gold-colored stalactites, stalagmites, and domes covered every inch. Like so many of the subterranean waterways that snaked beneath the planet’s surface, the churning water had created something unbelievably beautiful. It was also nearly inconceivable, given the harsh, dry desolation at the planet’s surface.
But so much of the Ancients’ creations, like the pack itself, existed mostly in secret.
She paddled closer to the middle of the raging water, ignoring the pleasure pain of the friction as she moved, her muscles still tight and wrung out from her captive’s touches. Usually, Sharluff was with her and she could ride him easily while his bulk carried them both along the current.
This time, she’d be required to do all the work.
She could only hope her animal friend had run all the way back to the safety of the pack. The thought of him alone and having to fend for himself pressed heavy on her chest. But isolated creatures tended to look for the familiar herd—she knew the instinct well—and so she had hope.
For herself, not as much.
The waterway twisted around a corner. She bobbed along with it, trying to stay as still as possible so as to resemble waste rather than food, on the lookout for sharp spikes, rocky shallows, or the shadowed creatures that lived within. Since this was not a network she’d used before, she had to be alert. In this section, the water crashed directly against the tunnel walls, but in other sections the tunnels were much wider. Some even had rocky beaches or twisting boulders where the water never reached. She’d need to find one of those sections and a cave in the tunnel wall that led to the outside so she could make her way back to the surface and access a more familiar network.
Clearly, Grif and his people knew even less about the underground waterways. Otherwise, he’d never have been so cavalier about showing her the bathing hole that was an obvious chute to the water tunnels beneath.
She wasn’t surprised he was unaware. Such networks were the lifeblood of the pack, used for travel as well as transport and sustenance. However, not once had she come across a live Other using them. She wasn’t sure they could. Along with flatter teeth, Others seemed to have diminished lung capabilities that made the use of such waterways more treacherous, especially if they did not have the proper animals to use for transport.
She and Sharluff had used them many times since Talg sent her away to live as the go-between with the Others. Hitched high on the back of her beast, the treacherous currents had been no problem.
This time, however, would be different. This time she was utterly and completely alone.
Something flickered up ahead to the east. The faint wavering light of an above-surface opening. Freedom.
With a small cry of victory, she paddled toward the side, her center sparking with the heat of Grif’s touch even now. She pushed the foolish longing aside.
It would take all her focus to grab a handhold and pull herself to solid land before the twisting waterway dipped and narrowed, potentially pulling her deeper underground.
With a grunt, she kicked upward and grabbed hold of a pointed edge before it raced by. For an instant, her grip held, her palm cutting into the sharp edge as her body slammed into the rocky wall beneath the water’s surface. But the slickness of the rock proved too much.
Her grip slipped. She dropped beneath the surface, the surging water a roar in her ears, her palms and legs stinging from the scrapes.
A voice that sounded a lot like Talg whispered through her mind. It would be so much easier to just let the water pull her under. To go into the Void and never suffer the anguish of endless aloneness that stretched before her without end.
But she wouldn’t. Because Grif was right about one thing, she was a fighter and she would not simply give up.
Kicking hard, she propelled herself upward and made it to the surface once more. Up ahead another pointed rock beckoned.
Stretching, she caught the ledge with both hands and hung on tight, kicking hard to raise herself high enough to get out of the worst of the current’s grip.
She collapsed onto the rocks, panting hard as the current swirled around her ankles. Bumps rose on her skin as cool air blanketed her, and spread to her heart.
She was free, but for what? For so long, her goal to be accepted by the pack had kept her sane and strong.
Now, Grif had pulled aside the veil and shown her all the reasons such a goal would no longer work.
So where did that leave her? Adrift.
If she went back to warn her pack, she would be killed. Such a choice would also mean destroying any chance for the missing females to return home to a better life and people who missed them. Maybe she shouldn’t care after what her captor had done to her, but she did.
If she stayed silent, Grif and his crew would bring war to pack territory and wipe out her people.
Neither was a good option.
And she definitely could not stay with Grif and the Others.
Be her savior? The male was delusional. He wanted to make her into even more of an outsider than she’d been before.
Be a burden? She had been that long enough. She did not need pity. Or another false promise of impending acceptance as long as she did what she was told.
As if by rote, she pushed to her feet, squeezed the water from the cloth she’d found in the storage cavern, and surveyed the least slippery path to the cave opening. The gentle light spilling into the cave indicated the hottest part of the rotation had already come and gone, the suns on their way to rest. Still, if she found the energy and inclination, there was plenty of time left to find shelter and food before she had to hide for the night.
A roar echoed through the cliffs. Her heart slammed into her throat. Her captor had discovered her escape.