Anika wished she could free them all. It gnawed at her conscience that she had fought so hard for her freedom, yet served as an instrument to deny it to others.
One day
, she vowed to herself,
I will make it so none of them are shackled
. But, until then, she would have to live with her complicity.
Beyond Dak’s province, they would pass through Artom’s before arriving at Qalin’s. Many moons remained of their journey. Unpredictable, dangerous weeks. And Anika did not like being threatened. She would allow no one to undermine her security and freedom—not even if the other person deserved it, too.
“What is it you are called?” she asked.
The breeder tossed her head. “I am Zala.” How apt the appellation. In Parseon, Zala meant bold. Perhaps, if her sire had named her Xera for prudence, she might have developed some.
“Perce would notice if you disappeared, Zala. Your audacity has drawn his attention,” Anika said.
Zala regarded Anika’s bruised cheeks. “Then, perhaps, since I have his attention, I shall share my observations with him.”
Anika wound back her fist and punched Zala in the face. Without a cry, the breeder stumbled, tripped over her chain, and hit the icy ground. Blood streamed from her split lip. “
I observe
that you should keep your mouth shut,” Anika said.
Urazi’s head snapped in her direction, but the other males continued with their business, an incident with a female not worthy of their attention. In the conveyance, chatter ceased, and the females huddled.
Is this what it means to be alpha?
What has the uniform done to me?
A bitter taste tainted Anika’s mouth,
but she could not afford remorse—not if she wished to live. She could not permit Zala to challenge her and win—for, if she did, the others would doubt her alphaness, look at her with sharper eyes, and discover her ruse.
During war, sometimes, the only choices were bad ones.
Zala spat out a tooth. Her hand throbbed, but Anika hauled the female to her feet and dragged her close.
I am sorry.
“Next time, you will feel the wrath of the talia.” She shoved her so that Zala bounced off the back of the wagon. “Get in the conveyance!”
Zala scrambled inside.
Urazi sauntered over. “Problem?”
Anika wanted to curl up and cry over what she’d done. Striking Zala bothered her more than killing Icor. She lifted her chin. “No problem.”
* * * *
Two weeks later
Anika sat straight and stoic to conceal her discomfort as the wagon transport rocked along the rutted road. When the war ended and skytram service resumed, she vowed never to travel by conveyance again. The hard wooden seat exacerbated each jolt, and her bones registered every one with acute sensitivity. She ached from shoulders to legs, and particularly her buttocks. It was worse for the females who had no seat to grab hold of, to brace against. The only thing to keep them from being tossed to and fro was that so many were packed inside.
In the two weeks since they had left Icor’s camp, the convoy had picked up another dozen breeders, bringing the total to thirty-seven.
To break the monotony and spell the single individual who would otherwise have to drive solo the entire distance to Province One, they rotated personnel. She’d traveled with Perce on several occasions. Though he’d been genial and the time passed without incident, by the end of those days, her stomach had churned like a river after heavy rains. Now that she knew he was Qalin’s son, she could not forget his temper—nor the consequences if Zala revealed her suspicions. She took utmost care to ensure that Zala was never placed in the same conveyance as Perce.
Today, Urazi rode with her, and she relaxed. Or could have, if not for the bumpy ride. The conveyance rolled over a rock, and a sharp pain shot through her. She gritted her teeth.
Pain is of no consequences. Ignore it
. “Rations are running low,” she commented to Urazi.
“Yes, but we will arrive at Commander Qalin’s province before much longer.” His voice rumbled just above the clack of the conveyance.
“Two more days.” With dread, she ticked off the passage of time.
I must be strong.
She doubted that warriors facing battle were as fearful as she. “Have you ever visited Commander Qalin’s province?”
“No. The farthest east I have been is Loraq.” He sighed. “I traveled with Marlix. He attended a High Council meeting, and, afterwards, we enjoyed a respite.”
Anika slumped. “I wish I could have seen Loraq before the war.” She’d looked forward to seeing the capital city. She’d heard about its magnificence all her life—marbled government edifices with carved friezes atop stalwart columns; larger-than-life statuary of all the Alphas of Parseon, dating back to the first ones; and fountains that spouted water high into the air.
She could only imagine how it had looked—because all of it had been destroyed. She’d sat on the edge of her seat as they had rolled toward the city—and then her jaw had dropped to the floorboards at the ruination. Marble and stone crushed and crumbled. Anything constructed of wood had been set ablaze—and small fires had continued to burn as they’d driven through blackened streets. Denizens had swarmed over the ruins, scavenging for anything of value. And, everywhere, Qalin’s flags had flapped in the smoky air.
“It was the grandest city in all of Parseon.” Urazi stared straight ahead. Determination glinted in his eyes. “I promise you. Marlix, Ilian, and Dak will rebuild.”
“Dak is dead.”
“Propaganda.”
She wished it so—but she could not shrink from the truth. Anika laid her palm over her heart. “I feel it.”
“Because Perce said so?”
“He
is
the son of Qalin and is privy to confidential information,” she pointed out.
“He is a mental deficient.”
She’d witnessed emotional volatility, but he seemed to be intelligent enough. “Why do you say that?”
“A one-eyed half-wit could see you are no male,” Urazi said, keeping his voice low, even though the thunder of hooves muffled their conversation.
Self-conscious, Anika moved to tuck her hair behind her ear then dropped her hand in her lap. She’d hacked off the length to appear alpha. “That is because you know me.” And had personal knowledge of what lay underneath the uniform.
“Icor recognized you.”
The conveyance hit a bump, and Anika grabbed the seat’s edge to avoid being tossed into Urazi. He held the reins capably in one hand, the other resting casually on the sidewall. He sat as straight as an alpha in command, as if
he
led the convoy and had not finagled his way in. No one would guess he was beta—she would not had she not known he’d once served Marlix as his anointed partner.
“Icor and I had had prior contact,” Anika said.
“Which does not disprove my point.” Urazi almost sounded amused.
She cocked her head, amazed they could so amicably disagree, batting assertions back and forth as if argument were a game played by equals. Perhaps Urazi’s opinion
had
been swayed by the alpha uniform and her affected brusque manner. For sure, he treated her with greater respect now. She reveled in her newly bestowed status, and yet, below the surface of the heady satisfaction, an undercurrent of loss and disappointment tugged at her. She sought respect and honor, yes, but she was loath to jettison her femaleness to get it. “What is your point?” she asked him.
“That any male who cannot recognize beauty lacks discernment,” he said.
Anika’s jaw dropped.
Gray eyes radiated appreciation.
A flush spread from her neck upwards, beating the chill from the air. “Beauty matters little in comparison to courage and honor.” She dismissed his flattery.
“It matters to me,” he replied. “And you have all three.”
“Y-you think I am courageous? Honorable?”
Beautiful?
“I do. You have shown me more about what your gender is capable of than I ever realized.”
Had she been driving the conveyance, she would have run it off the road. But Urazi managed to stay its course. “I wanted you to know that,” he added.
Oddly, she felt like crying. She pressed her tongue to her upper palate to stave off tears. When she regained control, she asked, “Why?”
“Because when we enter Qalin’s province we will face greater danger. There is a chance one or both of us will not survive. But if I can prevent harm from befalling you, I will. Nor will I allow
you
to jeopardize yourself. You should not view curtailment of your participation as a negative assessment of your capabilities.”
“But if I am brave and capable of defending myself then why should you intervene?”
“
Because
,” he said, and placed his hand on the bench so that his baby finger brushed hers. The simple contact jolted her clear down to that place between her legs.
“Because is no answer,” she argued because she could, and because she understood very well. She curled her little finger over his.
Because
.
An onlooker could be excused for confusing her with a mental deficient due to the inane way she grinned as they rode along.
ANIKA’S SMILE GLADDENED Urazi and fortified his determination to protect her. He wanted her to always be happy. He wished he could grab her, throw her over his shoulder, and hide her until the crisis passed. But it would not pass until Marlix and Ilian defeated Qalin or the Alpha had conquered every province of Parseon including the third one belonging to his ally. Urazi did not doubt Qalin would betray Artom when he no longer needed him.
The devastation of Loraq had proven that. Once, the capital of Parseon had offered a neutral meeting ground where aggressive Alphas could lay down their weapons, set aside provincial concerns, and collaborate for the good of their race. Urazi had hoped to convince Anika to accept refuge there, but its destruction eliminated that option.
So…they moved forward. But to do…what? Devising a plan proved challenging when he couldn’t foresee what they would encounter. Military strategy hadn’t been included in his beta training. Diplomacy? Yes. Food preparation? Yes. The fine points of Protocol? Assuredly.
But for Marlix, Urazi would not have learned how to defend himself. The Alpha had insisted on martial training when Urazi was anointed as his beta. “There are those who may attack you to injure me,” Marlix had explained.
Despite the lessons, Urazi had failed miserably in the woods when Qalin’s guards attacked Tara and Anika. He had dispatched Grogan, but since he’d caught the alpha unawares, that hardly counted. He worried how he would fare in a real battle, and he wanted Anika nowhere near when it occurred.
Urazi studied their hands in juxtaposition, hers small and delicate, but reddened from the cold. He would warm her, if he could, but he’d placed his hand as close to hers as he dared. Only alpha-beta pairings were permitted any physical or emotional closeness—and never in public. Displays of affection elicited caustic ridicule, for it was well known soft emotion weakened a male.
He studied Anika, sitting so straight and tall. Like her hands, her shoulders, arms, and ankles were delicate. It astounded him these stupid males couldn’t see her for what she was. The alpha uniform enhanced rather than hid her female attributes, outlining her curves. What male had such shapely thighs? Such pert, rounded buttocks? When she strolled in front of him, hips swaying with every step, the urge to grab a moon in each hand tested his willpower. He was thankful for the blindness of the other males, for it kept her safe.
Last in the caravan, they ate the dust the other two conveyances stirred, but it afforded them a measure of privacy. He might have risked holding her hand if not for the scrutiny of the females behind them. Once, he’d considered breeders invisible, but after knowing Anika, and Tara, he’d learned they were as sharp-eyed and keen-witted as any male.
Over the clack and rattle of the vehicle, the females could not hear, but they could observe. He glanced behind him, assessing the location of the one with whom Anika had had an altercation. She was farthest away. Good.
He drew his brows together. Anika had never explained what had incited the quarrel. “What happened between you and that female?”
“Zala? She saw me leave Icor’s camp, and suspects I had something to do with the disappearance of Icor, Faja, and Wolak. She threatened to tell Perce.”
“Monto!” he swore. Guilt smote him. He’d dispatched Faja and Wolak. He’d given impetus to the hunt for Anika by killing Grogan. In his attempts to protect her, he’d imperiled her!
“Perhaps I should have let Perce kill her,” Anika mused, then clapped a hand over her mouth. “No, that is a terrible thing to say. I do not like how I have succumbed to violent urges.”
“It makes you a more credible alpha,” Urazi said.
“But I feel”—she twisted her hands—“diminished by it.”
“Do you regret killing Icor?”
“No, and isn’t that the problem? Shouldn’t I feel bad for taking the life of another?”
“When he would have killed you first?” Urazi shook his head. “One should not regret one’s survival instinct. Nor should one allow despots to dictate what life should be.”
“Like Qalin.”
“Like Qalin,” he agreed grimly. “Why did Perce threaten to kill Zala?”
“Because he noticed she and I—well, me as I used to look—share a strong resemblance, and he wanted a body as evidence of Anika’s death.”
“Qalin is not so gullible to accept that without genetic verification.”
“That is what I told him.” Anika rubbed a hand over her face.
The bruises from Icor’s beating had faded, leaving her skin unblemished and as smooth as flower petals. Urazi ached to touch her. They’d only been able to engage in one other hurried, frantic coupling since he’d joined the convoy. He longed for the day when he could take her with leisure, when she would be free to express her ecstasy with loud cries…. Urazi shifted on the bench.
“I still cannot believe our misfortune that Perce is Qalin’s son,” Anika said glumly.