No Escape - Book 4: Trek Mi Q'an Read online

  “Ari predicted something bad would happen,” Kyra choked out. She leaned against her son as though she couldn’t hold herself upright without aid. “But I never thought…”

  “I don’t believe it,” Geris said shakily, her normally authoritative voice subdued, her eyes unblinking, “my firstborn baby is gone.”

  Cam’s entire body stilled. The breath went out of him at the Queen’s words. He stopped in his tracks and slowly turned on his boot heel to face the family that would one day soon be his own.

  Jana was gone? he thought warily. That could only mean that—

  “We’ll find them,” sixteen-year-old Jor murmured. “Already the finest hunters of Tryston are scouting for the conveyance.”

  Them, Cam thought as his hearts rate sped up, his future brother-within-the-law had used the word them.

  Wasting no more time, Cam made an abrupt about-face and strode briskly toward the warring chamber. Something had happened to Kara, he told himself as his mind raced with the possibilities. Something bad. Mayhap she had even been kidnapped. His nostrils flared in protest as he considered what would happen to his betrothed if she had been captured by insurrectionists, what would become of her if they—

  Nay. He could not allow himself to think on it. ‘Twas sorely apparent he would need his wits about him to find her.

  When he entered the warring chamber, Cam knew for a certainty that his assumption had been correct. Every of the Q’an Tal warriors was present, the four ruling brothers gathered around the planning table with their commanding captains at their sides.

  Kara was gone.

  Cam could see it in their expressions as they noticed his entrance and looked up at him from their seats. He could see it in the bloodshot eyes of the Emperor and King Dak as they stared at him with troubled expressions. They had both lost daughters today.

  But, he thought with a sudden flash of premonition, there was something more to this…

  As Cam’s eyes flicked about the warring chamber, he noticed for the first time that some of the warriors within it were throwing him pitying glances. Kil’s gaze shifted from Cam’s eyes and looked away as if he felt…embarrassed.

  But that made no sense. Why would the King of Morak be embarrassed for him? And then Cam noticed yet the same shifting of eyes from King Rem. Rem’s face flushed slightly before he too looked away from him.

  Something was wrong—something was very wrong.

  “Just tell me,” Cam said hoarsely, the muscles in his heavy body cording. He felt the eyes of every warrior in the chamber turn to him as he spoke. “What has become of Kara?”

  Throats cleared. Eyes darted away. Warriors shifted uncomfortably upon their seats.

  Cam’s nostrils flared. In that moment he knew for a certainty that his betrothed had not been kidnapped. But nay, he thought angrily, if she had not been kidnapped then that could only mean that she had—

  “’Tis sorry I am,” Zor muttered as he met Cam’s gaze.

  His hands fisted at his sides, inducing the veins on his forearms to bulge. “Just tell me,” Cam gritted out. He cared not that his tone of voice bordered on impudence. “Tell me what has happened.”

  But he already knew, of course. He just wanted to hear the words aloud, needed his worst fears confirmed.

  “She is gone,” Zor said softly. “Kara and Jana have fled Tryston together.”

  Cam stood there rooted to the ground for what felt to be an hour. His breathing was labored—labored in the way all warriors’ breathing becomes when they are in a temper with their wenches yet trying to control it. His nostrils continued to flare with each heaving of angered breath he took. His hands fisted and unfisted at his sides as he allowed the impact of the Emperor’s words to sink in.

  She was gone. Kara had run away from him.

  Cam’s head shot up. He narrowed his glowing blue-green eyes at the warriors looking upon him with pity. “I will find her,” he growled. His heated gaze found Zor. “And when I do ‘tis my right to remove her from her birth home since ‘tis obvious she has not been watched o’er properly here.”

  Zor’s nostrils flared at the words that had been hissed at him like venom. “I watched o’er her well,” he ground out. “’Tis not I that my hatchling fled from.”

  Zor’s face flushed guiltily when he heard his brothers suck in their breath on Cam’s behalf. He took a deep breath and expelled it. “I offer you my apologies, Cam.” He stood up, looking as weary as Cam felt. “You are correct for a certainty,” he rasped out. “Had I guarded her more vigilantly then—”

  “Nay.” Cam held up a palm, then ran it o’er his chin as his thoughts turned back to his betrothed. He sighed. “I offer you my apologies as well. We are both—we are…we are not ourselves just now.”

  Kil stood up and walked towards the deuce of them, his fingers intertwined with those of his three-year-old son Kilian. “We will find her. We will find both of them.” When he was upon them, he drew his face closer that none but Zor and Cam might hear him. “I ask but one boon, Cam.”

  One of Cam’s golden eyebrows arched in inquiry, but he said nothing. He was beyond words really. He was so angered that—

  “Do not cause my niece a harm when you find her,” Kil said under his breath to keep their conversation private. “’Tis for a certainty you feel shamed, yet I still ask that you show Kara a bit of mercy. She is but young and confused.”

  Cam’s nostrils flared. He felt the need to attack something, to punch at someone until his fists bled. But he would never—could never—hurt Kara. “She will be spanked as is my right,” he gritted out, “but nay, I shan’t harm her.”

  Kil nodded his understanding. Had he been Cam he would have done the same.

  “’Tis time to talk strategy,” Dak announced from across the chamber as he motioned toward them to take their seats. “We best get on with it.”

  Cam was about to join him at the planning table when the sound of loud footfalls jogging towards the warring chamber snagged his attention. A Nuba-second later, High King Jor strode in briskly, his pathway veering straight towards Zor and Cam.

  “What is it?” Zor bellowed to his heir. “Has word come back from any of the hunting parties?”

  “Aye,” Jor confirmed as he panted for air. He jogged the remaining space that separated him from his sire, coming to a halt before him and Cam. His glowing blue gaze flicked back and forth between the two warriors. “’Tis bad news,” he rasped out.

  Cam’s entire body went deathly still. He awaited Jor’s words much like one would await a sentence to the gulch pits—quiet dignity on the outside, dread on the inside. “What has happened?” he asked hoarsely. “What has become of wee Kara?”

  Jor closed his eyes briefly and inhaled a calming lungful of air. His chest rose and fell with each labored breath that he took. “Kara and Jana attempted to land on Galis,” he murmured as his eyes opened and bore into Cam’s. “Leastways, they did not make it.”

  “What do you mean, son?” Zor asked softly.

  Jor’s gaze flicked from Cam to his sire, then back to Cam. “Their ship was disintegrated,” he said roughly. “Kara and Jana are dead.”

  The warring chamber fell into silence. Not a word, not a sound, not even a breath could be heard.

  Cam tried to control himself, tried with all of his Yessat years worth of brutal training to remain stoic—but he could not. “Nay!” he bellowed, his arm flinging wildly through the air. “They are not dead. Those hunters know nothing!”

  Cam felt Kil’s hand upon his shoulder, attempting to comfort him, but he shrugged it off. “Nay,” he ground out. “I am not mad! Think you I would not know it in my hearts if Kara had passed through the Rah?” He backed away from Kil, from Jor, from the quietly crying Emperor. “They,” he said distinctly, his teeth gritting, “are wrong.”

  But as Cam’s eyes flicked o’er the chamber, as he took in the solemn expressions of those around him, his breathing grew more and more labored for he knew he was graspi
ng at nothingness in a futile attempt to hold on to the only woman in existence who could complete him.

  Tears came to his eyes. “Nay,” Cam said softly. He continued to back away from the other warlords until a crystal wall stopped him from going further. “Nay,” he rasped out.

  The sound of Zor’s footsteps leaving the chamber broke the quiet. Cam’s eyes tracked the movement and he noticed that the Emperor was on the verge of losing any tentative control he might still have left o’er his emotions. Not wanting to shame himself in front of so many, Zor made his exit before he did.

  Cam wished he had the energy to do the same. But nay. All he could do was stand there. All he could think of was—

  “Kara,” Cam said softly, his eyes unblinking, “why did you run from me, pani?”

  His love for her and need of her had been an all-consuming one. So strong were his emotions where she was concerned that he had purposely stayed away these past four Yessat years, afraid as he was that he wouldn’t be able to keep himself from claiming her if he didn’t. Mayhap, he thought as a renegade tear slipped unchecked down his cheek, mayhap if he had spent more time in her company she would not have feared him enough to flee.

  Yet now it mattered not, for she was gone. Kara was gone and she wasn’t coming back.

  King Cam K’al Ra fell to his knees and wept.

  Chapter 1

  The Trefa Jungle

  Approximately one Nuba-hour outside of Valor City

  Planet Galis, 6049 Y.Y. (Yessat Years)

  With the silent and agile cunning of a heeka-beast stalking its prey, Kara Gy’at Li, nee Kara Q’ana Tal, slithered on all fours atop the dense tropical forest floor of the Trefa jungle. Like the other pack hunters accompanying her today, she wore a pair of thigh-high leather maroon combat boots, but was otherwise completely naked. Her body had been smeared all o’er with maroon tishi paint by male servants, allowing her and the other female warriors she hunted with to blend in with the maroon jungle that surrounded them.

  “Jana,” Kara murmured into the communication device fastened into one ear, “I have a visual confirmation of the prey. Proceed with Operation Bag and Tag.”

  Ten Yessat yards away, Jana raised one fist—the Galian equivalent to the thumbs-up symbol—to the bride-to-be situated to her left. “Ready your hunters, Tora.” She whispered the words under her breath whilst simultaneously clicking on her maltoosa to stunner mode. “Proceed on three.” Her eyes narrowed in concentration as she stealthily crept under a tu-tu bush. “One,” she murmured into the communication device shared by every pack hunter on the mission. “Two…”

  Kara felt her muscles clench in anticipation, awaiting the final signal from Jana to ambush. When Jana said “three”, all the hellfire in Nukala would break loose. A quick glance to the right confirmed that the other Gy’at Li sisters were ready to strike as well. Kari and Klykka held their maltoosas firmly in hand, whilst Dorra prepared her laser scan.

  All was prepared.

  The prey had been surrounded on all four sides.

  ‘Twas ridiculous in the extreme to hunt humanoid males, she thought grimly.

  “…Three!”

  “Banzai!” In unison, the pack hunters roared out the battle cry that had been taught to them by Kari Gy’at Li as they exploded from the jungle on all sides and encircled the frightened Galian males. The males screamed out their terror, two of them fainting dead away on the spot at the sight of so many women warriors preparing to subdue them as marriage chattel.

  The remaining two males began to slowly back away, their eyes wide with upset and their lips threatening to break into sobbing quivers.

  Crying males, fainting males—Kara half sighed and half harrumphed. Her lips pinched together disapprovingly. Five Yessat years past, she had sought freedom from a certain Trystonni warrior for this? Ahh, ‘twas ironic for a certainty.

  “Kara!” Dorra bellowed as she sprinted away from the enclosure of males. “The big one is getting away. Aid me, sister!”

  Kara’s head shot up. Her glowing blue eyes narrowed at the form of the retreating male. By the sands, she grumbled, ‘twas the six-and-a-half-footer hightailing it into the thick of the jungle. Males of that height and brawn were highly coveted hunting booty because they garnered such large sums from the brides who desired a marriage union with them. Leastways, that particular six-and-a-half-footer would garner them no sum at all for Dorra coveted him as a mate for herself.

  “I’m right behind you.” Kara wasted no time in aiding Dorra. She had spent the last five Yessat years on Galis learning to become a proficient warrior and pack hunter. ‘Twas what she excelled at. ‘Twas why all hunting parties desired to count her amongst their numbers. She was fast, she was agile, and she was wicked-good at bagging and tagging.

  Bagging and tagging, the Galian equivalent to courtship, was a sport Kara had never dreamed existed back when she’d been a little girl on Tryston. Wenches hunting down males for mates? ‘Twas unheard of on a planet where ‘twas the males who did the hunting and the females who got captured.

  But Galis was a different culture altogether, a fact that reared its head in just about every facet of daily life. Bagging and tagging pack-hunting parties, for instance, operated every moon-rising during the hunting season. Sometimes Kara was a part of the pack, sometimes she was not. Leastways, if the price offered by the potential bride desirous of having a particular male bagged and tagged was exorbitant enough to lure her, Jana, and the other Gy’at Li sisters into hunting, she usually was a part of it.

  This particular pack hunt would reap Kara, Jana, and their adoptive sisters a large sum of credits. Having decided to kill five haja birds with one trelli stone, the Gy’at Lis had set out last moon-rising to capture four prime male specimens at the same time. One of those males, the six-and-a-half-footer, would be Dorra’s mate and therefore garner them no wage, but the other three they had been contracted to hunt down by their brides-to-be would reap them nigh unto fifty thousand credits in total.

  Hunting season was o’er in a fortnight, so ‘twas necessary to earn as many credits as possible. With the close of hunting season, the Gy’at Lis would holiday for a month, then recommence their tutelage in the erotic arts. Leastways, now that the five of them garnered such high pack-hunting wages, ‘twas no longer necessary to perform serving wench jobs at dives to earn a living. Instead, their family unit devoted itself to pack-hunting, which reaped a living that was large enough to pay for all five of them to be schooled in the erotic arts.

  For a Galian female, there was no greater honor than being named a High Mystik of Valor City—a title none but the most schooled in the erotic and warring arts could claim. Kara was proud of the fact that one member of her adoptive family—Klykka—was already a High Mystik. And then there was Kari—‘twould take her mayhap one more season of apprenticing before her mistress granted her with a sector of her own to rule o’er. ‘Twas Klykka who ruled o’er the sector of Gy’at Li.

  Kara clicked on her zorgs and took flight. She concentrated on recapturing the retreating male, ignoring Jana’s cry-out to Kari that a six-footer was escaping. Kari could handle the six-footer without aid. ‘Twas nigh unto child’s play for a wench so close to becoming a High Mystik.

  Flying at a high speed directly toward the six-and-a-half-footer, Kara waited until the precise moment she was upon him before aiming her maltoosa down and firing it. The male bellowed, making a sound of pain before stumbling to the ground and landing on his backside. Unable to move, he could do naught but watch as Kara landed before him, wearing her thigh-high maroon combat boots, and the maroon warpaint spread all o’er her naked body.

  “Shh,” Kara soothed as she squatted down beside him. “’Twill do you no good to get yourself all worked up.” She could see his chest heaving up and down from his labored breathing, which she’d come to realize o’er the years meant that the male was both tired from the stunning and frightened of his impending fate.

  The entire ritual was too
close to Trystonni mating for her to have a care for. Only in this situation the roles had been reversed and ‘twas the male who had been rendered nigh unto unconscious that he might not flee from his future mate. When Kara searched the male’s terrified gaze, she couldn’t help but to think of her own situation—or the situation that would have been hers had she remained on Tryston.

  Kara knew that although the bagged male was frightened just now, he would be happy for his fate after he joined his body with Dorra’s. On the next moon-rising when Dorra claimed him for a mate, his hearts would belong to her as well as his body. ‘Twas ever the way of things on Galis.

  Nay—she cared not for the similarities between the Galians and the Trystonnis for it made her wonder whether or not her hearts would have swooned with love if—

  Nay. ‘Twas no sense in dwelling upon it. She was dead to him now.

  Kara sighed, not having a care for the direction her thoughts were straying in. She shook her head as if willing them away, then absently wondered to herself how long it would take Dorra to catch up with them. The six-and-a-half-footer wasn’t the only tired one. This pack hunt had lasted two straight moon-risings, the four males having escaped once before. Dorra had chosen her mate well, she conceded. The male was cunning and agile and would gift her with many strong daughters.

  The captured male’s breathing grew more labored, which induced Kara to break out of her contemplative thoughts. “There now,” she cooed as she removed the loincloth he wore, “’tis naught to fear of your mistress Dorra.” She came down on her knees beside him and leaned o’er him, that her breasts dangled before him. “She is the bravest of warriors and skilled in all things erotic. No male could be happier with a bride such as Dorra Gy’at Li.”

  The male’s breathing began to calm, which caused Kara to smile. She grabbed his thick penis by the root and began to slowly masturbate him up and down with one hand whilst she soothingly stroked his chest with the other. ‘Twas the least she could do to keep him bagged and calm until Dorra caught up with them and tagged him.