on her side. Unfortunately, it only took one good shot to kill a man who had nothing but a knife to defend himself.
Long forgotten survivalist training rushed back into his mind as his feet found the quiet earth. He instinctively missed the crunchy leaves and rustling undergrowth as he ran. If the deceitful bitch wasn’t lying, Vohne lived.
If Vohne lived, he would find Kres. Kres just had to survive long enough for the reunion.
“You shouldn’t be alive. She promised me you couldn’t return!” the woman screamed behind him.
A thick tree with low branches caught his eye. With a desperate leap, Kres grabbed the lowest branch, tucking his body close to the trunk. With slow, careful movements, he pulled himself to the branch above, his muscles screaming from the strain. Long, draping vines covered the space between branches, protecting him from spying eyes.
Kres was reluctant to attack any of the soldiers. He didn’t know which ones shared the warning soldier’s views and which ones wanted to see his blood sprayed across the ground.
The woman was easy.
She wanted him dead.
If she came close enough, he would slit her throat with no remorse.
From his informal count of men rustling through the underbrush, there were ten of them along with the woman. He longed for his stun gun with a passion.
“Come out, King-Mate. Once you’re gone, there will be no more problems. Once you’re gone, there will be no more king. He’ll never be able to survive your death this time.”
Shit, she was going to hurt Vohne. Kres hoped if he didn’t survive this, Vohne would be all right. The man-cat had said they needed more time together to be completely bonded. Kres hoped that would increase Vohne’s chances of living if the psycho bitch killed Kres.
Kres’ mind went completely blank as his nerves vanished and a warrior’s calm took over.
She’d threatened his mate.
She must die.
Kres crouched among the leaves. Spreading his feet, he centred himself and steadied his balance, ready to spring and take her down. The soldiers might shoot him after, but he’d take out the danger to his mate first.
He silently slid the knife out of his boot, careful to keep his movements slow and quiet. Peering through the foliage, he watched her approach.
“Come out, King-Mate. As soon as my people at the castle take care of your mate, the pair of you can reunite in the afterlife. Maybe then he can keep better track of you.”
Kres blocked out her words. He wasn’t going to let her trick him into revealing his location. A bug buzzed past his ear. Kres didn’t move, nor did he twitch when something bit him on the neck.
A few more steps.
She was directly beneath the trunk of the tree where he hid. Taking a slow breath, he bunched his muscles, ready to leap. A series of blasts sounded through the forest. The woman’s body flung back, ricocheted off the tree, then lay still.
One of the soldiers peered over at the woman. “Who shot her?”
“I did.” A blond soldier walked up, approaching the body.
“I don’t think so.” A dark-haired soldier marched over. “See that mark through her heart. That’s mine.” He sounded ridiculously proud.
“Not so,” the blond argued. “See that shot in her forehead. That killed her. I win.”
“Hmm.” The man who’d told Kres to run looked down at the body. The others deferred to him as the leader. “We’ll have to have the coroner examine the body. That will determine the winner.”
Kres stilled. They’re having a contest about who killed her ?
“What about the king-mate?” one of the soldiers asked.
“We have to find him. If we return without him, we’d best plan on living in the prison yards,” the leader said.
The blond spoke up. “What if he isn’t worthy? We should have a plan. I’ve never even met the king.”
Kres had heard enough. Dangling from his perch, he dropped down behind the blond. Wrapping his right arm around the soldier’s neck, he used his left hand to
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley