Her vision started to gray at the edges. Too much blood loss, too much pain. Biting the inside of her cheek, she used the sharp pain to stay alert.
I can't pass out. Not now.
The mean one's hand snuck out to touch her arm, and she recoiled, every cell in her body screaming at the contact. The leader's hand shot back, and there was a sound like breaking wood.
"I said no."
The mean one snarled but pulled back.
Thunder cracked overhead, close enough to make her jump. The storm was almost on them. Rain drummed harder through the canopy, washing away her blood trail drop by drop.
She didn't know where they were taking her, didn't lift her head to check their direction. Counting thunder between breaths, she tried to stay conscious and keep marking the trail.
Someone would find her. Someone would follow.
They had to.
They were wasting time.
The flyer's engines whined as Zeke strapped himself into the jump seat, his hands moving through the motions while his mind stayed locked on one image... the way Michelle had smiled up at him, soft and unguarded, when she'd caught those flowers at Sy and Ashley's mating ceremony.
Now she was gone. Taken by some feral draanthic who'd probably already...
He cut the thought off before it could finish. Michelle was alive. She had to be. Entertaining any other idea was a quick path to insanity, and gods alone knew he had enough issues on that front.
He leaned his head back against the headrest. The flyer was one they'd brought with them when they'd fled the southern fortress, and the cabin reeked of unwashed bodies and weapon oil. Kraath sat across from him, checking his weaponry for the third time. Zeke barely glanced at him, his attention snagging on the third team member.
A feral slouched in the corner seat like he owned the place, dark hair pulled back from his face. Zeke's lip wanted to curl back from his teeth just at the sight of him. He'd seen the guy around the garrison since the attack, and something about his posture—the way he swaggered—just screamed entitlement.
"Listen up," Kraath barked over the engine noise as he unfolded a portable tactical display on his lap. "We're heading to the secondary construction site where the human engineer Michelle Trevor was taken. We'll start tracking from there."
The feral in the corner shifted. "I saw her leave the garrison this morning."
Zeke snapped his head around as Kraath leaned forward. "You were there?"
"Saw the engineers heading out before dawn. The female with the broken leg was with them." The feral shrugged. "Figured it was human nonsense. Aka none of my business."
Something cold and deadly unfurled in Zeke's chest. "Why were you watching the engineers?"
The feral's red eyes met Zeke's.
"Couldn't sleep. Was checking the perimeter."
“You were checking the perimeter?” Zeke arched an eyebrow, they had automated defenses online to deal with that. Then what Raaze had said registered. "You saw her leave with a broken leg and didn't think to question it?"
The feral shrugged again. "No orders to stop them. We were told the humans are free to come and go as they please. The injured human female was making poor decisions, if you ask me. Seen it before... people pushing past their limits for attention."
The casual dismissal sent heat rushing through Zeke's veins. He moved, the harness straps shredding under his claws as he yanked the feral up out of his seat and slammed him back against the bulkhead hard enough to dent the metal.
"She's not looking for attention," he snarled, forearm pressed against the feral's throat.
The draanthic didn't struggle... he didn't even look concerned. Just stared back like the whole situation was boring him to death. "Everyone's looking for something. I had a million fans once. Didn't matter when I became inconvenient."
A million fans. Something clicked in Zeke's mind. Draanth, he'd heard that some famous warball player had been shipped to Parac'Norr recently. A warball celebrity... They were revered like gods through half the empire. That explained the entitled attitude and complete lack of give-a-draanth about anyone else.
"Look, I get it," the feral rasped, managing to speak despite the arm crushing his windpipe. "You went and caught feelings for the human female. But your feelings don't make her less dead, and they don't make this mission less pointless."
Fury exploded through Zeke's chest again, his claws dropping. The soft snicks were loud in the sudden silence of the flyer cabin, but the feral’s expression didn't change.
