Orc’s Forbidden Claim (Red Planet Dragons of Tajss #33)

12. Khiara

12

KHIARA

I will give Sek’su this. In the open tunnels, he is tireless. He’s kept up with the grueling pace I’ve set. I would go faster if I could, but I have to watch for any signs of traps. I assume they will have left some to slow down any pursuit. It’s what I would do.

“Wait,” I say, holding up my clenched fist.

Sek’su stops without argument. Another point in his favor. I kneel and run my hand across the floor. There is some dirt and loose gravel, but something caught my attention. I shift the dust and debris until a glint catches the light of the lantern Sek’su carries. I dig it out and hold it up. The memory comes unbidden.

“What is this?” I ask, kneeling before her.

There is a ring in her belly right where the cord would have been cut at her birth. It’s pretty, but even among my people who are well known for piercings and decorating our bodies, I have never seen one there.

“Hmm?” she asks, her hands running through my hair. “Oh. My belly ring? Your people don’t do that?”

I kiss all around the decoration, licking her soft skin. She giggles and wriggles under my gentle ministration.

“No,” I murmur. “Not there.”

“Do you like it?”

“I like everything about you,” I say.

She giggles, tugging my hair until I lean my head back. She leans down, claiming my lips and I give myself to her. Heart and soul.

Sek’su cuffs the back of my head, and I grunt then growl jumping to my feet.

“No time for dreaming,” he hisses.

I narrow my eyes, fighting the urge to punch him in the face. Idiot. He knows nothing. Getting control of my anger I raise the decoration, holding it between my thumb and index to show him.

“This is Saylor’s,” I say. “She left it for us. We are on the right track.”

He frowns, nods, then points the way ahead.

“Good, let’s go,” he says. “Faster. It was covered enough that they are still far ahead.

Agreeing with his logic, I turn and move faster. Still slower than I would like, but the risk of traps is very real. Falling victim to one could mean the death of one or both of us in which case we’re an exercise in futility. I will not fail Saylor.

I am coming, dragoste. Survive. It will not be long and when I find you, they will pay.