The knowledge beats against the inside of my skull in agonizing time with mydra-kir. The rival clan is no longer maintaining a cautious distance in the high ridges. The first of the outer alarm traps in the lower gorge snapped only moments ago. The scouts returning from the deep dust are bleeding.
They are breaching our valleynow.
Every single muscle in my frame is rigid. The starfield under my skin is surging, the hot transformation crawling steadily up my neck and threatening to crack the hinge of my jaw.
But the pain is nothing. It is a minor inconvenience compared to the raw terror of knowing Eh-ree-kah is standing exactly fifty lengths away from me while an opposing warlord literally breaks through our gates.
I stalk across the cavern and step directly in front of her, using my own broad chest as a physical barricade between her small body and the tunnel entrance.
“You,” I roar aloud, dropping my chin to lock my gaze onto hers.
The physical effort of forcing her jagged, unnatural language through my vocal cords grates like coarse dust against my throat.
“Deep chambers,” I point with a clawed finger toward the tunnels, projecting. “Now.”
She does not flinch. She does not cower.
Stubborn female. But she ismine.
Every single warrior occupying this cavern would drop to their knees if I directed that tone at them. She simply plants her strange foot coverings firmly on the cavern floor, crosses her arms, and glares straight up at me.
“Eh-ree-kah,” I project, reaching one claw out and pulling her flush against my blazing skin.
I crash my shields down hard around the thought before it hits the open cavern frequency, trying to keep the edge of my terror from bleeding into the mindspace. I press my brow to hers and push the thought directly to her.
“Lucek comes. I cannot fight if my dra-kir is tracking your lifeforce in the dark.”
“I will take the upper tunnel,” she fires back through the bridge. “It drops straight back into the deep chambers. If Lucek breaks your line, I will have the vantage point to see them and warn the others, but they cannot reach that path unless they step over you first.” She holds my intense gaze without blinking. “These are my people too, Kol. I will not hide while they die.”
Dust.
She has no claws. She possesses no armor. But her mind is absolute tactical ice. She is a tiny creature who could be snapped in half by a stray blow, and she is openly defying adra-damto secure a sentry position as the slaughter begins?
A sharp, echoing crack rolls down the eastern tunnel. Another outer trap snapping beneath an approaching hunter.
The heat under my skin spikes so hot it forces a low, involuntary snarl past my fangs. The deep vibration of the sound shakes the loose dust from the cavern ceiling above us.
“Not trained—” I project, trying to force logic through the roaring protective instinct in my head.
“You literally trained me,” she snaps instantly, unfazed by the terrifying noise bleeding through the mountain rock.
My vision edges with black. Dust. I do not care about the training. I need to pick her up. I need to haul her into the darkest, most secure fissure in this mountain, barricade the narrow stone entrance with my own sprawling body, and let the rest of the entire planet burn to ash while I bury my face in her neck.
“They track your scent,” I push the thought directly against the space between us, stripping all gentleness from the projection as another loud crash echoes from the gorge. It lands blunt, and ugly. “You are the prize. They will rip through my line of warriors to reach you. You will die.”
My logic does not reach her.
She only sets her jaw tighter as the sounds of the breach multiply outside.
“Then let them come,” she says.
She is shaking.
My furious track of thought instantly derails. I stop. Everything stops.
We are standing at the base of the eastern tunnel entrance, just below the steep incline leading to the upper ridge. The cold draft pushing ahead of the invading war party is sweeping across the rough, thin coverings on her soft body. Her small shoulders are trembling beneath the coverings. Her lips are pressed tight together, slightly paler than they should be.
I halt.
