Six hours later, minus braids, and practically bald, we're settled on the plane. The look on Alden and Labyrinth's faces match mine. We are unrecognizable as Warrior with our shaved heads. I'd rather dress in pink. "You would think your power was in your hair the way you whiny babies are handling this," were Marinah's exact words. Personally, I was resigned to my fate and remained stoic, hoping one of the men would talk her out of it. Her alpha stare came into effect, and she chopped a section of her braids off with her sword. The men followed suit, giving me sad puppy dog eyes while we sheared our heads. Beck kept his mouth shut from that moment on. If Maylin hadn't saved the day and trimmed up the mess we made, the lot of us would have needed to go completely bald. I run my hand over the prickly stubble. Cutting our hair was necessary for Marinah's plan to work. Her hand lands on my opposite arm. I pull her close so she rests her head on my shoulder. "Sleep," I whispe
The room turns my stomach. Starvation, death, and helplessness fill the world while these people hold parties, laugh, drink alcohol, and pretend they live in a different time. Several men smile at me inquisitively as I slowly stroll around the room. I give them assessing smiles, meeting their eyes. "You belong," I repeat internally. It's twenty minutes before President Barnes enters-his wife on his arm. I'd forgotten about her. She's a scientist as well as first lady. Her hair is perfectly manicured, her head held regally as if the world belongs to her. Diamonds drip from her throat and her wrists. She lives in a different world. I never liked her and for the most part, she stayed far away from the government's workings. For some reason whenever I saw her, I felt like a lab rat. I can now put my finger on my feelings. I respected them back then. I'm disgusted now and detest everything the Barneses stand for. No, I don't like the woman. A small ache goes through me
Marinah picks up Labyrinth and tosses him over her shoulder like he weighs forty pounds and not three hundred and forty. The black dress is in tatters, only covering parts of her massive form. Mrs. Barnes opens groggy eyes, and I set her on her feet. I give her one minute to find her balance. "Move," I order when her time's up. She cries and sniffs and squeals, and sniffs some more while she tries to run. Her bravado is gone. The pointed heels of her shoes become a problem. With a growl, I pick her up and flip her over my shoulder the same way Marinah holds Labyrinth. Her shriek is music to my ears, but we don't need the noise so I slam my hand down on the backs of her exposed thighs. She shrieks once before she decides silence is best. We run without stopping and make it to the rendezvous point in thirty minutes. Mrs. Barnes crumples to the ground when I try to place her on her feet. She can rest here and wallow in her bad fortune. Alden doesn't take his eyes from the presiden
I head to the training field and beat up on all comers for the next two hours. My men look at me in fear by the time I'm through. I'm going to be a father and I should be ecstatic. All I feel is fear, and it's not something I'm accustomed to. Strangling my mate might help. A baby. We could have lost our child before I knew about him or her. My thoughts return to strangulation. My men practically fall to the ground when I head back to my room to shower. Thankfully, Marinah found another place to be. I need time before I deal with her. I shower, dress in fresh clothes, and I leave the room. Labyrinth's body is in his quarters. His funeral will be tonight along with the Shadow Warriors lost in the Federation's attack. Beck, Nokita, Cabel, and Alden stand outside Labyrinth's door, their faces somber. "Marinah is with him," rebukes Beck. He's angry he didn't go with us and it's not his death. Marinah made the right decision on who she took on our mi
The plane's engine rumbles beneath my feet and the white plastic walls shake like a 9.0 earthquake. All I can do is hold my stomach and fight the urge to vomit. Why me? I ask myself as I swallow back the sour taste of bile and inhale through my nose and exhale through my mouth. Somewhere, years ago, I read this relieves queasiness. Ha. Just another reason I don't miss the internet. The cabin of the plane is a stripped-down passenger jet that's seen better days. Scratch that, this plane has lived through a world of hurt and somehow came out the other side. Its ability to stay in the air is questionable, yet somehow the pilot got it off the ground. The original rows of seats were pulled out and now there are only two rows facing each other from opposite sides of the center aisle. The old cracked vinyl of my seat pokes my bare skin below the stupid black skirt I'm wearing, making a miserable experience worse. The powers that be assured me the older aircraft offered the best chance
Shadow Warriors are elite fighters-larger and stronger than humans. They're the polar opposite of hell's spawn because they think and strategize, making them a more formidable enemy. Because of fear, bigotry, and thinking the Shadow Warriors might overthrow the new government, the Federation almost started another war when the threat of the hellhounds receded. Thanks to the government's screw up, I have this nice advancement in office and I'm on a mad dash to repair relations with the good monsters. It's basically a suicide mission. King, the reigning leader of the Shadow Warriors, requested a female liaison. That's King as in Cher or Prince. He provided no other name, so I'll work with it. The question is: Will King work with me? After the president swore me into office, he said roping in King is my number one priority. I'm not personally responsible for the mistakes made at the end of Hell's War, but my orders are to apologize-a.k.a. beg, plead, or do anything else to g
The seat belt digs into my belly during the loud and bumpy landing. After we stop rolling, I release the armrests and rub my sweaty palms against my skirt. I don't care if I leave stains on the material, this outfit is ridiculous. If I had something to change into, I'd do it. King's rules were strict-one female liaison, no weapons, no luggage, no men besides the pilot, who is not to leave the plane. No explanation. Sun shines through the small windows of the cabin, the ocean I just evaded in the background. A group of Shadow Warriors waits on the black tarmac showing no signs the heat bothers them. Even in human form they're huge-large black straps crisscross their bare chests accenting each uncovered muscle. Adding to their intimidation stance, the straps hold enough weapons to take down my plane. Even without the weapons, their sheer intimidating power works its magic on me and I quake in my heels. Lovely. I guess I should be happy they're clothed from the waist
Beast slithering beneath my skin is not a good sign. No human should affect me this way. I know who she is and that's not who I expected. My control among Shadow Warriors is legendary. With the smell and taste of her father in her blood I shouldn't react this savagely. Church was a good man who I owe a great debt and there's no reason his bloodline should spike my anger. If anything, it should calm me simply because she's female. I grind my teeth and force Beast to recede. It matters not that she's Church's daughter. Our kind judges a person on their own merit. If the U.S. government thought to sway us by sending her, they're wrong. Maybe it's the Federation's never-ending manipulations that have Beast on edge. The woman follows at least ten feet behind me. It does not speak well for her backbone. I glance at the soldiers waiting by the vehicle. Even though they remain stoic, I know they're disturbed about my interaction with the woman. All accept Beck. He displays his displeasu