Chapter 29 Syra

Hours later, my neck still burns where the two alphas marked me.

I want to touch it, but I don't want to rub away the scent-masking paste that is covering my skin, so I just squeeze my fingers even more tightly around the haft of my spear and press ahead, wending my way between the trunks of trees and the sun-dappled underbrush of the forest.

For clothing, I am wearing some animal skins I borrowed from the hideout and fashioned into a makeshift loincloth and top. It is not comfortable, but it is sufficient to keep my breasts from bouncing all over the place while I run.

Markus and Brik are following right behind me. I can't smell them, because they're both slathered in the same paste that I've got on. I can't really hear them either; their footsteps, like mine, are completely silent against the forest floor. But I know they're back there. I can sense them, for they are my alpha mates.

And I am their marked omega.

The marking hurt even more than I expected it to—and I expected it to hurt a lot. Markus tried to warn me, but I don't think anything could have prepared me for that kind of pain. It wasn't just the sting of the alphas' teeth breaking my skin. It burned, as if Markus and Brik had pressed red-hot brands into my flesh.

Thankfully, it was all over pretty fast. The worst of the pain faded quickly, and the wounds healed almost immediately, leaving behind two pairs of crescent-shaped scars on both sides of my neck—a signal to every alpha in the Zone that I am no longer up for grabs.

I have been claimed.

I am owned.

My scent has also changed, enough that the paste can now conceal it. My heat, however, is still going strong. Even under these dire circumstances, I can feel the hunger burning inside me. The desire to be rutted and knotted by my alpha mates. For the time being, those urges are at a manageable level, but I can feel them growing by the moment, and I know it is only a matter of time before they get completely out of control.

We just have to find Thorus before that happens.

We're getting close to where he is. I can feel it. It won't be much farther now. I can sense that he is somewhere ahead of us, still alive, still in pain.

It makes me feel sick and hopeful all at the same time.

I wonder if Thorus can sense my presence too. I think he probably can. He knows I'm coming to help him.

He's probably not happy about that. I don't think he would like me putting myself in danger this way.

Too bad.

I'm his mate now, and he's just going to have to deal with me, attitude and all. If he's really pissed about it, he can spank me when this is all over.

Under other circumstances, that thought would make me smile.

As I race through the forest, my thoughts race too, spinning through all of the possibilities of what could have befallen Thorus. It could have been some sort of accident I suppose, but I highly doubt that. I've seen Thorus in action. He's too sure-footed to have injured himself through some careless misstep. It seems more likely that he was attacked. Ambushed by the Farlanders whom he was tracking. That thought fills me with a sickening blend of fear and rage.

I've seen Thorus fight, or at least I've seen the aftermath of his fighting. He's stronger than a bear, and he can be mean as hell when he wants to. Whoever hurt him is either really tough, or else there's just a whole lot of them.

I'm thinking it's probably the latter.

Nobody'sas tough as Thorus.

The forest is starting to open up in front of me. I slow down, not wishing to emerge from the cover of the trees without first having a chance to see what lies ahead. Behind me, my two alphas slow to match my pace. They move in protectively on both sides of me. Together, we emerge from the treeline, crouching low to keep ourselves hidden within the deep, wild grass. If anybody is tracking us, it will be easy for them to follow our path through the grass, but I'm more worried about what's ahead.

After about fifty paces, the land slopes downward into a broad valley full of unkempt vegetation. A road snakes into the valley from one end. Its asphalt surface is so cracked and overgrown with weeds, it almost blends right into the rest of the landscape. The only reason we're able to see it at all is because of our elevated vantage.

The road terminates at a sprawling structure nestled in the very heart of the valley. The structure is also overgrown to the point that I can barely even see the actual building itself, just the shape of it beneath the greenery. We all three pause and stare.

"What is that place?" I whisper.

"Don't know," Markus says. "Looks like some kind of fortress."

He's right. There's a big wall running all the way around the compound, and along the top of the wall, I can see sunlight glinting off coils of steel wire hidden among the green leaves. I've seen that type of wire before during my many excursions through the Zone, so I know it's covered in lots of tiny knives that will slice you open if you're not careful. I've got scars on my fingers from my first encounter with the stuff.

Whatever this place used to be, it seems like the people who built it wanted to keep other people out.

Then again, walls can also be used to keep people in

"I think it used to be a prison," I whisper.

"Shit," says Brik. "I think you're right." After a pause, he adds: "Is that where Thorus is?"

I nod.

I can sense the older alpha's presence emanating from somewhere near the very center of the structure. We're going to have to go inside that place to save him.

It's not going to be easy.

The knife-wire running along the top of that wall is the least of our worries. I can see figures moving around down there, some of them inside the wall, some outside. I know my two alpha mates can see them too.

Farlanders.

Even from a distance, their appearance is unmistakable. I can even smell them a little. There are at least twenty that I can see, and I'm willing to bet there are even more of them inside the building.

The ones outside the wall are patrolling the area, and they are armed, but not in the usual Farlander fashion. Their weapons are black and shiny, too short to be spears, too strangely shaped to be clubs. I've never actually seen that type of weapon before, but I know what they're called—guns.

But guns are Outsider weapons. What the hell are these Farlanders doing with them?

I pose this question to my companions.

"They must be working with the Outsiders," Markus says. "It's happened before. About fifteen years ago, a bunch of Farlanders raided the Central Ruins armed with Outsider weapons. They even tried to destroy the Source."

I remember that. I wasn't there when it happened, but I certainly heard about it. The whole tribe was abuzz for a while.

The Outsiders can't come into the Zone, or at least they can't venture very far inside. Not without mutating, usually into betas. They have armor to protect themselves against the mutations, but it only works in the Farlands. Toward the center of the Zone, the power of the Source is stronger, and their armor becomes useless.

That's why the Outsiders had to get the Farlanders to do their dirty work for them. They provided guns and other weapons, which the bloodthirsty Farlanders were more than happy to accept. In exchange, the demented Farlanders agreed to destroy the Source. If they'd succeeded, it would have been the end of the Zone as we know it.

Luckily, the plan was thwarted.

I wonder if these Farlanders are part of a similar plan. Have the Outsiders hired them to try to destroy the Source a second time? I probably ought to be concerned about that, but I'm not.

For now, all I care about is getting Thorus back.

But how?

I look at Markus, then at Brik, hoping one of them might have an idea of how to proceed, but they seem to be as much at a loss as I am. Neither one of them appears to be frightened by the Farlanders in the valley below, but their faces are tense with concern, and I can sense the rapid thinking taking place behind their eyes.

"What are we going to do?" I ask, my voice low.

For what feels like a very long time, nobody says anything. Then, finally, Brik answers.

"We're going to get help."

"Where?"

"The Central Ruins."

A tightness clenches in my throat, and my heart starts to beat a little faster.

"We can't do that," I say. "There's not enough time. They'll kill Thorus before we can get back here and rescue him."

"You don't know that, Syra."

"They might," I say as tears spring to my eyes. "They've captured him and hurt him. He's in pain. I can feel it."

"That's good," Brik says. "Pain means he's still alive."

"But we have to save him!"

Brik takes me by the shoulders and gently but firmly turns my body until I am facing him.

"Syra, listen. There are two dozen Farlanders down there, and there are probably more of them inside. Plus, they're armed with Outsider guns. The three of us would never be able to take all of them in a fight."

"We can sneak past them," I say.

Brik shakes his head. "No chance. We'd never get over that wall without one of them spotting us, and then we'd be dead meat. They would either kill us or take us prisoner alongside Thorus."

"What about a distraction?" I suggest. "If one of us could draw the Farlanders away."

"I've already considered that, and I don't like it. Even if one of us could draw half the Farlanders away—and that's being generous—it would still only leave two of us to go up against twelve Farlanders with guns. Plus, we have no idea what's inside."

I start to say that I could be the one to do the distraction, but I know Brik and Markus would never allow that. They also won't let me be one of the two to storm the prison.

"If it was only you and Markus, you would try to save him," I say.

Brik cups my face with his hands and tilts my head back to make me look at him.

"You're wrong," he says. "First of all, we never even would have found Thorus without you. Now that we know where he is, we need to be smart about getting him back. Sometimes, when you have a problem to solve, you have to set your feelings aside for a little while. You want to save Thorus, right?"

I nod.

"Good. So do I. Now that we've established that, we need to think about the best way to proceed. As much as I'd like to go rushing in there, we'd only get ourselves killed, along with Thorus. But if we go back to the Ruins to get reinforcements, there's a chance we'll be able to rescue Thorus before they kill him. I can't promise it will work that way, but it's the best chance we have for getting him back."

As he speaks, Brik's face is solemn and stern, but I can see the emotions churning behind his eyes. The thought of leaving Thorus here pains him as much as it pains me. Maybe even more so.

He's right, though. If we want to get Thorus back, we need help.

And we need to hurry.

"Okay," I say, brushing the tears out of my eyes. "Let's go."