Chapter 8

Kalpar paced the dimly lit corridor, fighting his instinctive urge to protect Constance. He'd almost betrayed his feelings twice now - the first time when Vexian had dared to lay his hands on her and pulled her closer and the second time in the study when she'd given him that despairing look.

He'd barely managed to control himself long enough to remember that if Marshall fired him - or tried to eliminate him - no one would be left to protect her. The fact that it would also compromise his mission was a distinct afterthought. Fuck. Despite every attempt he'd made over the past week to distance himself, he was far too concerned with this fragile human.

The fact that he'd also spent the week fighting the urge to explore the physical attraction between them had only made it worse. He desperately wanted to kiss her again, to explore that soft little body, to find out if his body would truly respond to her. He'd managed to resist the urge, although he'd had to make one change in his guardianship - he no longer insisted that he accompany her into the bathing room or that she remain while he showered. He'd simply left the door open between the two rooms instead and soothed his conscience with the knowledge that he could be at her side in seconds.

Even without her physical presence in the room there had been two separate occasions when he was showering and just the thought of her had sent a tremor through his cock. He was still not convinced that she could be his mate, but he was beginning to suspect that his body was trying to tell him something. But the lesson he'd learned from that brief period of youthful lust was that a mere physical reaction was not enough to satisfy him.

He refused to consider the fact that her kind heart and gentle spirit already called to him as much as her sweet body. And beneath that delicate exterior, he sensed a strength, a resilience that belied her sheltered upbringing. He shook his head, banishing the treacherous thoughts. There was no room for such fancies, not in his world. He was a warrior, and she was a means to an end. That was all there was to it.

Wasn't it?

He took another turn down the corridor, pausing outside the study door again. He couldn't hear anything but hopefully that was a good sign. If she cried out, he knew he wouldn't be able to prevent himself from going to her.

On his next circuit he noticed a door embedded in the wall paneling and in an attempt to distract himself, tried to open it. It opened easily enough to reveal another hallway, this one distinctly different from the opulent corridor he had been pacing. The floor and walls were bare concrete and the lights embedded in the walls bare and utilitarian. The space was clearly designed to provide access for servants and after another check to make sure that all was quiet in the study, he decided to make a quick survey and find out where he went.

He returned just as a crying Constance raced down the corridor. He grabbed her before she could crash into him and she collapsed against him, crying as though her heart was breaking. The embroidered robe had disappeared and the gold under gown was falling down across one fragile shoulder. Rage surged through him, magnified by his guilt at having left her alone with those two bastards. They would pay for her distress, but getting her out of here was more urgent.

He swept her into his arms, cradling her trembling form against his chest as he returned to the servant's hallway. She clung to him, her face buried in the crook of his neck. He could feel the dampness of her tears against his skin and increased his pace, determined to get her away from this wretched place as swiftly as possible.

They didn't encounter anyone before emerging into the cool night air. The area was clearly intended for deliveries, but a fleet of vehicles were parked on the other side of a neatly trimmed hedge and he recognized the hover vehicle in which they'd arrived. Because of his position in the household, the doors opened to his touch. When he tried to put her down on the seat she clung to his neck, unwilling to let go.

"Let me go, sweetheart, so we can get out of here."

She gave another muffled sob, but she released him and he slid behind the controls. The engine hummed to life, and he gunned the accelerator, quickly taking them higher than was strictly legal. The city lights blurred past in a kaleidoscope of colors as she buried herself against his side again.

"Can you tell me what happened?" he asked gently.

His grip tightened on the controls as she sobbed out the story of what had happened in the study. With each word, his anger grew, a simmering rage that threatened to boil over.

"He doesn't care about me at all," she choked out between sobs. "I-I always hoped that he was so controlling because he was trying to protect me. All he wanted was to make sure I'd fetch the highest price. But I can't marry Lord Vexian, I can't. Please, Kalpar, you have to help me."

"I won't let that happen," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I'll keep you safe, Constance. I promise."

As they drove on into the night, her sobs gradually subsided as exhaustion overtook her. She slumped against the seat, her breathing finally evening out as she drifted into a fitful sleep. He couldn't bear to see her like this, broken and defeated by the cruelty of her own father.

What was he going to do? He had to get her away from her father's clutches, but he also needed the information Marshall possessed. But perhaps he could turn this to his favor. It would require moving up his timeline, but he could hide her away somewhere safe and then use her disappearance to his advantage.

He was sure that her father would be desperate to get her back, if only to complete his deal with Lord Vexian. The Ctharan obviously possessed something that Marshall wanted. Even though he had no intention of returning her, perhaps he could use that desperation, manipulate the situation to extract the information he needed. It was a risky move but it was the only option he could come up with that would allow him to protect both her and the warriors back on the farm.

He descended to a legal height and took a circuitous route away from the wealthy districts at the center of Port Cantor. As soon as he found a deserted lot, he switched out the luxury hovercar for a nondescript, common vehicle, putting his old skills to use. He followed a meandering path through the less savory areas of the city, then switched vehicles again. Constance slept through most of the journey, although she whimpered in her sleep and her body twitched restlessly.

She woke up during the last transfer, giving him a dazed look.

"Where are we going?"

"Somewhere safe," he replied, his tone low and reassuring. "Away from your father and Lord Vexian."

She nodded and when she fell asleep again, she seemed more peaceful.

He doubled back several times to make sure they weren't being followed before finally arriving at an old warehouse down by the fishing docks. Pulling around to the small side alley, he entered a code into the keypad and drove inside as it slid open.

The warehouse was dark and musty, smelling of brine and creaking with the sigh of the tide, but it was quiet and deserted. Constance was still asleep so he carried her through the maze of crates and equipment to a set of rickety stairs leading to the second floor.

At the top was a small apartment, sparsely furnished but equipped with the basic necessities. He had set it up weeks ago as a secure safe house, a hidden refuge where he could retreat if needed. Now, it would shelter both of them. Laying her gently on the bed, he did a quick check to make sure that everything was as he'd left it. He should begin planning his next steps, figuring out how to contact Marshall and set his plan in motion. Instead, he found himself lingering by the bed, looking down at her face in the dim light.

She looked so vulnerable in sleep, her fine features still marked by the tears she had shed earlier. An unfamiliar ache filled his chest. Before he could stop himself, he reached out and tenderly brushed a strand of tangled hair back from her cheek. His instincts urged him to protect her, to keep her close, and he sank down on the edge of the mattress, weariness creeping over him as he watched the steady rise and fall of her breathing.

He knew he should move, should begin preparations, but he couldn't make himself leave her. She was so fragile, this little human who had so unexpectedly entangled herself in his thoughts. When she whimpered in her sleep, her body twitching, he swore under his breath then moved further on to the mattress before picking her up and cradling her in his arms.

She settled down again and he decided he would permit himself this brief moment. Just for tonight, there were no missions, no conflicting goals, just the two of them here in this hidden refuge. He knew it couldn't last, but for now, he let the world fall away and surrendered to the simple pleasure of holding her close as he surrendered to sleep.