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  Gods, Maya, don’t move. Lie still. I’m coming.

  Maybe it wasn’t her.

  Yet I knew it was.

  Sand erupted in a spume as I skidded to a halt alongside Maya’s body. Prostrated between the pillars like a human sacrifice, her hands and feet were tinged blue from the tight bonds binding her to the posts. Her eyes closed, she could’ve been asleep.

  Please, gods, let her be asleep.

  But the huge gash across her forehead, crusted with dried blood that had glued closed one of her beautiful eyes, said otherwise.

  A dull thumping vibrated through the soles of my feet, pounding like my heart.

  Shifting back to human form, I dropped to my knees beside her and slashed at the bonds with my extended claws.

  Jag hurled himself against the poles at her feet, splintering them so he could claw the looped ropes free.

  I gathered Maya’s limp form into my arms, burying my face against her neck.

  “Maya, I—” A great weight crashed into my back, closing like a toothed trap around my thigh. The searing pain bit deep, as an intense pressure dragged me backward.

  Away from Maya.

  Chapter Twelve

  Maya

  G roggy, I sat up and shoved my hair off my face. I stared down blankly at my raw wrists, where the Regime soldiers had tied me to stakes planted in the ground. How had I gotten free?

  Herc.

  I’d heard his voice, felt his touch.

  Bellows behind me jolted me out of the daze I’d fallen into, and I whirled. A sand viper, as wide as a man and three times my length, had Herc in its jaws, whipping his body from side to side, despite Jag gripping Herc’s forearms, desperate to drag him free.

  Energy shot through my veins, and I dove for my belongings, which the soldiers had rifled through and tossed in the sand. I studied what they’d left behind and gnashed my teeth. If they hadn’t taken my P220, the viper would be the one rotting in the sand.

  A glint near the rocky outcrop drew my eye. Yes! They’d missed my knife.

  Jag’s yell, “Hold on, Herc!” jolted me to a standstill. The Jaguarkin’s feet dragged in the sand as the relentless viper shook Herc, tossing him from side-to-side like a giant armor spider capturing a desert narlol to feed her young. The foul reptile hauled Herc toward its lair.

  Hurling myself across the sand, I snatched up my knife and raced in their direction.

  The viper had buried its teeth in Herc’s thighs. Despite Jag’s phenomenal strength, the creature would kill Herc.

  I rushed around the beast. It writhed and grunted, totally absorbed in its task of murdering the man I loved.

  Slashing out with my knife, I filleted the skin on its scaly back. My second jab cut deeper, but the viper’s razor teeth only sank further into the meaty part of Herc’s thighs.

  Herc bellowed, his feet scrabbling on the ground. But there was nothing he could grab onto.

  Grooves deep in his face, Jag struggled to cling to Herc’s arms. His agonized gaze met mine. “Back away,” Jag said. “I’ll change and finish this.”

  “No, don’t let him go,” I shouted. Without Jag holding on, Herc would be sucked beneath the ground, where he’d drown in the sand in seconds.

  I thrust my knife toward the viper again, missing when it darted sideways. The rumble of the creature’s tail thrashing underground sent clouds of grit into the air. It tightened its grip on Herc’s legs, as if it sensed victory was near, and shook him again.

  Jag was thrown off. He tumbled along the sand until he slammed into a pile of rocks, where he lay motionless.

  Herc growled and twisted, fighting for purchase. Sweat poured down his face. The viper was going to pull him under.

  White blood oozed from the knife wounds I’d inflicted, mixing with Herc’s bright red.

  The sand snake spiraled, sinking down, Herc in its clutches.

  Herc roared as his fingers dragged through the sand.

  Hells, I would not lose him.

  Herc’s face…changed. The bone structure—his teeth—elongated. Claws extended from his fingers. Muscles on his back and broad shoulders rippled as if his bones lengthened beneath his skin.

  The viper slithered lower into its pit, pulling Herc to the edge.

  My body exploded with fear and fury, and I lifted my knife.

  I leapt onto the creature’s back and straddled it with my legs, bringing the knife down on its head. The blade sunk in with a satisfying plop, burying itself to the hilt.

  The snake writhed, neck arched back as it roared to the sky. It bucked, trying to dislodge me from its back.

  Gasping, shouting prayers, I twisted the blade and drove it in deeper, my hand sinking into the mush.

  Releasing Herc, the beast spasmed and shrieked. I reeled backward, falling to my knees, and clamped my hands over my ears to block out the sound.

  Wrapped in its death throes, the creature flopped on the ground. Sand kicked up by its writhing stung my eyes and made me cough. I shielded my face as rocks pinged around me.

  But it wouldn’t stop. It kept inching toward Herc, as if it would take him down with it, even if it died once reaching its lair.

  I jumped on its back again and stuffed my hand inside the gelatinous head, shuddering at the slimy sensation. With a sickening slurp, I retrieved my knife, coated with sticky white matter. It slipped in my grip, but I tightened my fingers around the handle. Thrusting it forward, I slashed through the viper’s neck. Blood gushed in a pulsating flow, spraying everything in the vicinity. The spiked tail lashed out at me, and I yelped, evading contact. One nick and I’d be paralyzed, my limbs locked in place until I died.

  I dove off the creature and jolted onto the ground and rolled, putting distance between me and the thrashing snake. Clambering to my feet, I wavered, my head spinning. Adrenalin continued to race through my veins, making my muscles quiver. My sides heaved and my heart thudded faster in my chest than a drone motor. I struggled to catch my breath and swallowed against the sting in my throat brought on by screaming.

  On unsteady legs, I ran toward Herc. I couldn’t stay away. He lay too still in the sand.

  In full liger form.

  “Wait,” Jag shouted, clutching his head as he wove in my direction. A trickle of blood worked its way down his temple. Reaching out, he grabbed my arm, holding me back. “Don’t go near him. He won’t mean to, but he might hurt you.”

  “He won’t.” I didn’t just know that fact in my mind, I felt it in my heart. My soulmate would never do anything to cause me harm. Pulling away from Jag, I raced for my pack. Not worth carrying across the desert, the Regime had left bandage supplies behind.

  As I reached Herc’s side, his head reared back. His mane rippled in the hot desert breeze, dusty gold shot through with streaks of ochre. Faint, tawny stripes covered a body that was multiple times larger than mine. A low growl rumbled through his chest, and his dark lips slid back, revealing teeth that could rip me to shreds in seconds. Anyone else would be scared out of their minds to be so close to an enormous beast.

  But, even in liger form, I loved him.

  “Let me see your legs,” I said as I pawed through the supplies in my pack. I pulled out packages of gauze. Tape. Ointment. “Viper bites fester fast in the heat.”

  My heart ached at the pain swimming in his eyes.

  “He’ll heal on his own,” Jag said, coming up behind me. He’d dressed in camo he must’ve brought in the pack dangling from his hand.

  Sure, Herc might heal, but I had to do something. “Will his wounds knit together quicker in human or liger form?”

  “Human. Normally. But now? Cat.”

  My hand paused opening the bandage packaging. “What’s different now?”

  “He’s weaker without the third bond. It’s physiological. His body used much of his energy preparing itself to…”

  I tipped my head back to stare up at Jag. “Mate with me?”

  His gaze focused on the horizon, and his hardened jaw twitch
ed. “Yeah.”

  My shoulders drooped. Had I done this to Herc? I’d left him at the compound to keep him safe, not make things worse. “He said if we didn’t take it past the second bond, it would end.” Silly me for assuming the end would be painless. On his part, maybe. Never on mine. But I’d thought he’d be free of all the baggage I brought with me. That this would be better for him, even though I knew it wasn’t best for me.

  From two vastly different worlds, how could we meet in the middle? He was a mercenary from a planet of shifters, sent here to hunt down my people. And I was destined to rule. While I’d have final say in my choice of consort, I was expected to choose wisely. Once I reached the Resistance stronghold, bringing the news of my sister’s death, my staff would be lining men up and pushing them in my direction. With a war going on and my family decimated, I’d be expected to produce the next heir to our non-existent throne soon.

  Yet, as horrible as that seemed, I couldn’t ignore the heart-rending fact that it was because of me that my sister had not survived to carry on our royal bloodline.

  I stared into Herc’s amber eyes, filled with agony caused by almost giving his life to save mine.

  My spine tightened with resolve, and raw emotions soared through me.

  The world could go take a flying fuck.

  I chose him.

  “Stay in your liger form. Rest,” I whispered, my hand sinking into the soft fur on his shoulder. I stroked his face, his side, wishing I could give him strength through my touch. Scowling, I tightened my grip on the knife in my other hand. “I’ll keep us safe.”

  Jag snorted, but when I glared up at him, he smoothed his expression.

  “You didn’t really say. Will he heal faster if I bandage his wounds?” I asked.

  His lips twisted. “Nope. But I imagine he won’t resist anything you choose to do to him now.”

  “It feels wrong to just leave them alone.” Herc held steady while I applied ointment-coated gauze to the lacerations on his thighs.

  A steady, dull thumping resonated through the ground, dragging my attention toward where I’d been staked. “There.” I pointed. “That box? It’s a thumper. Turn off the switch, before it draws in another viper. They’re territorial and we’ve eliminated the immediate threat, but one might be called and enter this area to issue a challenge.” My trembling limbs suggested I didn’t have enough strength left in me to kill another viper right now.

  The cry of a scree made me jump. I tipped my head back, squinting as it dove through the air, creating ominous, swooping shadows as it circled. Its black, beady eyes took in the death scene below, and I knew it was eager to eat the carcass. Within the hour, a swarm of them would be all over the viper, picking its bones clean.

  “We have to move,” I said. “If we can.”

  “Herc’ll walk.” Jag placed his hand on my shoulder, squeezing. “That’s a guarantee.”

  Studying me intently, Herc gathered himself and lurched to his feet. He stepped forward and rested his head against my belly. Huffed softly.

  My eyes watering, I carefully cradled his head. I kissed his forehead. His soft cheeks. Then sniffed and wiped my damp face. “You set the pace, okay? We don’t have to travel far. I know a safe place where we can rest, a few hours away.”

  I hated that we had to walk during the day, but we’d die out here in the sun. And who knew if Regime soldiers would see us, try to capture us? With both Herc and Jag wounded, we were vulnerable.

  We moved out into the desert, and I kept an eye on our surroundings, my knife tight in my fist.

  Whenever a rumble rang out below, we froze. Then hurried on once the sound faded. The sun beat down mercilessly, drying my sweat. No sweat replaced it. That and my dry mouth told me we risked serious dehydration, if we didn’t find water soon. But the soldiers had stolen my canteen. Jag shared what he’d brought, but it was gone in no time.

  Herc’s pace slowed. Worse, his wounds looked no better. Why weren’t they healing? I wanted to demand Jag tell me the reason, but didn’t want to alert Herc to my worry. Placing one foot in front of the other was enough for him to concern himself with, now.

  The morning faded, and we passed mid-day. We baked like dead armatotes left to bloat in the sun. But the hillside I sought grew closer.

  Within another hour, we reached our destination: a rocky mound hiding a cave system my people had used right after we fled our cities and into the desert. Three years ago, we’d abandoned this location—too close to the Regime compounds and their rocket fire, as well as indefensible—and moved to a larger underground network that extended beneath the desert floor for many clicks.

  We were lucky; we’d located a permanent, secure home. To make sure the Regime couldn’t infiltrate and release poison gas inside our new cave system, let alone attack at will, we built a fortress around the entrance, with towers and guards. Our techies camouflaged everything so that our security blended imperceptibly with the sand and rocks we lived beneath. Not until you were within an eighth of a click of the stronghold, would you have any inkling that it wasn’t a natural formation. For the first time in years, we’d found refuge.

  If only we’d been there, instead of caged in the false security of the palace in the city when the Regime attacked, maybe my mother wouldn’t have been murdered.

  Over time, we gradually made improvements inside the new cave system, including private quarters for the top military advisers, like General Fen, rather than the small caves and nooks the rest of us bunked in. Eventually, we’d even created a suite for our new queen, my sister.

  My suite, now.

  My heavy sigh gusted from me. I didn’t want to rule. I only wanted to take care of our sick and injured. Commanding was Selina’s role. She’d assumed control with a natural ease, guided by Fen, but still very much in charge. Somehow, I had to find a way to step up and be the leader my twin sister would want me to be.

  I’d have to move past my pain at her loss and seize the future.

  For now, though, I was grateful that the deserted caves would provide sanctuary once more.

  “Here.” My failing voice barely rose above a whisper. I pointed to what looked like a wall of dense, spiky vegetation. Pushing some aside—taking care with the thorns—I showed Jag the opening.

  After wrapping his arm in a shirt, Jag held the plants aside so we could enter.

  Blessed coolness bathed us in long-overdue welcome. I rushed ahead, gesturing to where water trickled down the wall in the back of the first cave. “It’s safe. Brackish, but far better than nothing.”

  Herc paced forward and dropped down with his front paws partway submerged in the pool. He drank deeply.

  Kneeling, I cupped the tepid liquid over and over and sucked my palms dry, not slowing until my belly spasmed, swollen with water.

  With his head nestled on his forearms, and his belly flat on the ground, Herc sighed.

  I leaned forward and examined his wounds. Finally, they’d sealed over. Relief made my legs weak, and I lowered myself onto the ledge beside him. An inner glow filled me as I realized he’d be okay.

  We’d be okay.

  “We didn’t bring much to eat,” Jag said, waving to the pack he’d dropped by the cave entrance.

  I nudged my chin toward the desert. “Plenty of armatotes out there. Easy hunting in this area. Once I catch my breath, I’ll go out and set traps.”

  “I’ll do it.”

  “Thanks.” Too tired to protest, I rested my head on Herc’s side. His steady heartbeat reassured me.

  “I might be a while,” Jag said. “But I promise I’ll be back. With food.”

  “Jag?” I called out as he reached the cave entrance, and he turned, his brows lifted. “The caves go on for some distance, and there are other pools with safe drinking water,” I said.

  He blinked. “Yeah?”

  “So, you wouldn’t be willing to disappear for a while, would you?” If not completing the third bond had weakened Herc and made him vulnerable, I knew h
ow to make my man strong again.

  Face clearing, Jag glanced toward Herc. “Other than leaving some food every now and then, how about twenty-four-hours?”

  “Make it thirty.”

  “Not a problem.” Chuckling, he ducked through the entrance.

  #

  I woke lying on a broad, human, very male chest. With his warm arms wrapped snug around me.

  Herc kissed my hair.

  Rising up over him, I smiled with relief when I saw the relaxed, comfortable expression on his face. “You’re better?”

  “One-hundred-percent new,” he said with a grin.

  “Did you…” I traced my finger along his liger tattoo. “Umm, hear anything Jag and I said earlier?”

  His arms tightened. “Just the important parts.”

  Emotion overwhelmed me. Was it the bond speaking or my heart? I no longer cared.

  “Then you know I want this,” I said. “I want you. Make love to me. Please.” My breath caught. Was I doing this, saying this right? We’d barely talked about bonding, let alone the third and final bond. I only knew I was in control of whether or not it happened, which was freeing. I had a say in whether we ended this now or made it permanent.

  I wanted permanent.

  But what if he didn’t understand what I was trying to say? Worse, what if he no longer wanted me? “If you feel differently, now, or, this isn’t what you want, I won’t push you. We can part friends. Go our separate ways.”

  “Friends, huh?” His chest rumbled with his laugh, and he lifted his upper body off the ground. He settled me on my back beneath him and rose over me, as if staking his claim. “I’m not going anywhere.” Heat filled his amber eyes. “I love you, Maya. Want this. Want you.”

  Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pulled him down for a kiss. “I love you, too.”

  His growl choked off when he captured my mouth with his.

  Like any other time he touched me, fire shot from my head to my toes. A warm, tingly ache built inside me, centering in my core. I dipped my tongue out to touch his and couldn’t stop the moan that rose up inside me.