Chapter 10

The brightburn gods were punishing him.

That had to be it. Why else would they have played with him like this, getting his hopes up only to shatter them?

It was because of what he'd done, wasn't it? Because of his past. He didn't deserve her. That's why they were keeping her from him. Making him think he had a chance. Only to present him with the wrong human.

He'd ignored the human male, pretending he wasn't there. If it wasn't for Oza, he likely would have stormed out of that room just as Margrul had.

Oza had made a good point, so he spared him, but it hadn't made him feel better about not finding his woman. And now more than ever he thought he wouldn't, that she really was lost to him.

So, he took that realization hard. And lost himself in brim.

Fighting only freed him of some of the pain, turned his thoughts away if only briefly. He fought the uugari, feeling nothing, letting himself go to the drink, hoping his despair left him if only for a night.

As he swung and hit the uugari across the skull, he watched him fall, hardly relishing in the triumph. He stood over the uugari and howled. The others thought it a howl of victory but in truth he was roaring at the gods.

Please,he prayed. Give her to me and I will dedicate my life to her. I will pay for everything I have done. I will take any punishment but this. Just let her be mine.

Give her to me.

The others yipped and barked around him. He let the prayer go and growled at an ashora who got too close. His vision swam a little, but he still wanted to fight some more. He wanted to fight until he couldn't.

The inmates circling him began to blur, and he was ready to grab another and go off on them when the human male broke from the crowd and came toward him. Unthinking, Draka bared his teeth and snarled at him.

"So you want to fight, little human, eh?" He grinned. "Let's fight."

"No!" The human put up his hand, obviously terrified and rightly so. "No. It's one of your men. He's hurt!"

It took Draka a second to understand his words. His expression twisted. "Who?"

The male pointed toward a pile of crates. Draka pushed the other inmates aside so he could better see. They parted and he saw Oza sprawled on the ground.

He tensed, rage burning up his throat. What had happened? Oza had been fine a moment ago. Did someone hurt him?

If someone had, he'd kill them. He'd lost the woman, he wasn't about to lose his friend too.

He broke from the group and rushed for him, the human close behind. He slid down on his knees before Oza and grabbed him, pulling him into a sitting position.

"Oza? Oza." He shook him a little, and the ashora's head lolled to one side. He glared at the human. "What happened?"

"We were sitting, and I heard him groan in pain. He was clutching at his shoulder," he explained. "He tried to get up but couldn't. I tried to help him, but he collapsed and fell." He reached out to put a hand on Oza, and Draka let out a low growl, surprising them both. "Is there a medical lab somewhere?" he asked, keeping back. "We should take him."

With ease, Draka scooped Oza up into his arms. "Serbril will tend to him."

They moved quickly out of the Antiom as he carried Oza. Kreed and Targus followed. He didn't bother to call to the others.

"What happened?" Kreed asked.

"Don't know. He fell," Draka said, forcing his focus on Oza even as his vision swam from the brim.

"Weak," Targus commented.

Draka clutched Oza close to him. "Targus, if you say another word, I'll break your jaw." He looked down at Oza and called to him again but still the ashora didn't respond, his body limp. A slow panic was beginning to rise in him. No, this was wrong.

"Take the helmet off," the human said beside him. "We should make sure he's breathing. Give him some air."

Draka held Oza tight. He'd respected the ashora's need to keep the helmet on for the sake of his burns but now there may be no choice. If he wasn't breathing, they would need to take immediate action. If he woke, hopefully he wouldn't be in deep pain.

They ducked behind a building near the edge of the city, Draka laying Oza down on the snow.

"Wonder what state his face is in," Kreed commented absently, kneeling to one side to block out curious onlookers. "Hopefully his skin wasn't so badly burned you'll peel it off."

"He was burned?" the human asked.

Kreed dipped his head. "Or so he has said."

Carefully Draka curled his claws around the inside of the helmet. Please, don't be dead. I need you, he thought. He might snap if he lost his friend today too.

With one smooth tug, he lifted the helmet off.

Black hair spilled out, crowning around a familiar face. A face that looked to be sleeping save for the furrow of the brow and the hard line of the mouth, indicating pain or discomfort, sweat dampening the skin.

The helmet slipped from his fingers, dropping next to him.

Her.

It was her.

People were talking and moving around him, but he didn't notice, didn't hear. He stared down at her in awed disbelief, unable to move or speak.

"Draka? Ay, Draka!" Kreed said. "Shit, human, do something. She doesn't look good."

The human male leaned over her. Draka watched him touch her wrist and put his ear to her mouth. Possession of her was already taking over, a great terrible need to send his talons into the male's throat.

But then the human man gave him a look that could only mean something very bad.

"She's breathing but her pulse is weak," he said, his voice sounding like it was far away. "She needs medical help now. Do you hear me? I can't help her here. I need tools."

"Are you some kind of doctor?" Kreed asked.

"I have medical experience." He put a hand on her forehead. "She's burning up. We need to go or she might not make it."

Kreed gripped Draka's shoulder. "Draka, we need to go or she's going to die."

Reality slammed back into him. He tugged her into his arms, then he surged up and out of the shadow of the building.

He tore his way up the path to the mountain, flying like his life depended on it.

No, not his. Hers.

There was no other thought in his mind save the single need to get to the base and to Serbril. Time ceased to exist as he put one foot after the other, legs and lungs burning.

When the base finally came into view, he shouted for his men to open the door. Before it had even risen halfway, he rushed inside and made straight for Serbril's room, ignoring the stares of those he passed.

"Serbril," he called as he came upon his room. The nilgani was talking with Lygera, an ashora who worked on the generators. "Serbril, I need you now."

Serbril stared at the woman as Draka placed her on his exam table. Lygera left without a word as the nilgani came closer.

"You actually found her," he said. "She doesn't look good though, does she?"

"No. Something's wrong." Using his claws, he tore off her coat, then ripped off her shirt. She wasn't burned save for the one small part of her arm that looked to already be healing. But her shoulder was wrapped, indicating a wound underneath.

"Let me," Serbril said. He took out a surgical cutter and carefully snipped away the cloth.

Underneath he saw the swollen red skin and the pus coming from the wound.

"Infected," Serbril said. He clicked his tongue. "Unfortunate she didn't have this taken care of sooner."

Somewhere in the back of his mind was a simmering fury, at who or what he wasn't yet sure. It was clear someone had done that to her, sliced her skin deep. It had been bad, but she'd not come to him for aid. She had kept herself hidden, letting it get worse. More afraid of him than of seeking his help.

The hurt he felt was of little consequence now compared to making sure she lived. "Tell me what to do," he said.

"Clean warm water." Serbril rifled through his drawers. "Ice."

Kreed came into the room with the human male across his back. "Couldn't keep up without carrying him too. Humans are slow." He set the man down who quickly righted himself.

Draka bared his teeth at him as the human approached the table. The male put up his hands in defense.

"Please, I can help," he said.

Serbril scoffed. "I can manage without you getting in the way."

"Do you understand human anatomy?"

Draka looked to Serbril who glanced between them. "Not particularly, no."

The human looked to Draka. "I do. Let me help."

Draka stared at him, at first feeling defensive. But this wasn't about them. He needed to set his possessiveness aside for now. "Help her." He turned to Serbril. "Let him."

Serbril hissed in annoyance but didn't argue. "Come then, human, and assist me."

As the pair went to work, Draka pulled Kreed with him to get the ice and water. Once they returned with each, he asked what else he could do, not wanting to leave her side.

"The best thing you can do right now is let us attend to her," Serbril said. "We will call on you."

He wanted to argue but there was no time for that. He had no choice but to let them do their work and trust they would do it well.

Night came and went. And he'd never been more restless in his life. He didn't sleep, not for a second. Instead he paced the halls near Serbril's room. He stared at the curtain closing off the nilgani's door, then he'd go off again to pace before cycling back, waiting, always waiting for some news. Everyone stood out of his way, even Freys who didn't dare utter a word when he saw him, knowing it might set him off.

As he stalked the halls, his mind raced. He thought only of her.

For the first several hours, he considered what would happen if she died. What he would do. It was more of the same of what he had already planned to do but much worse. He'd take Kreed into the sealed room, and they would work until the project was complete. Then he'd burn the world.

But as the hours passed and he heard nothing, he allowed himself to hope. She would live. The gods wouldn't have answered his prayer only to take her from him. That was a punishment he couldn't bear.

When night slipped away and the sun began to rise, he couldn't stand waiting any longer, and he demanded to know her status.

"We stifled the infection," the human said. Timothy, he called himself. And he assured Draka he really did know what he was doing. "The fever is down. The bad news is the infection went septic which caused her symptoms. You're lucky Serbril had the means to combat that at all." He shifted uncomfortably, blocking Draka's way at the door. "She's still fighting. She needs time."

"Will she live or not?" he asked, tempted to push him aside so he could see.

"She's at a vulnerable moment. She might recover or she might take a turn. It's hard to say."

It was an honest answer at least, even if it wasn't the one Draka wanted. He let Timothy go to continue working while he slunk away, feeling no better than he had before demanding an update on her condition.

He sat alone for some time after, watching the sky brighten from the front entrance. He'd wished Oza was beside him to listen to his grief. But Oza was no longer there.

He could hardly believe it had been her all along. How had he been so blind? He should have demanded she take off the helmet.

She'd hidden in plain sight, had been there right beside him and hadn't once thought to reveal herself.

Freys came to check on him, but Draka hardly said a word in response. He watched the city and its inmates as he gripped her scarf in his hand.

When the sun was at its peak he knew he should return. He slipped back in and forced himself to work, to make his rounds, to check on the others, trying to keep his mind off what was happening but making sure someone would report to him of any changes.

Night fell again and the moons started to rise. He talked with his men who guarded the tower, reporting that they'd seen a few scavengers traveling around one side of the mountain. More activity than usual. He didn't need to guess why. He knew he'd been seen carrying the human off toward the mountain. Margrul would have been told by now.

"I want men walking the perimeter," he ordered. "Anyone who isn't a pack member who takes one step inside my territory I want to see limping and bleeding back down the mountainside." He'd have them cut down entirely but too many fatalities and the drones would start looking, and he didn't want them examining the base too closely.

When he'd finished giving orders and moved to return inside, Serbril appeared from the tunnelway.

Draka's heart skipped as he approached him, the nilgani's face unreadable.

"Is she…?" He couldn't finish his words.

"Alive," Serbril said.

His heart now raced. "She recovers?" he whispered.

"She recovers," Serbril said.

Tension he didn't know he'd been holding melted from his body. He moved past Serbril for the tunnelway. "Take me to her."