Page 20 of The Hunter's Mate

“Yes,” I whisper.

12

Nyrik

I carry my mate back to my ship, the zimya’s head clutched in her tiny hands. Her legs wrap around my waist and her head rests on my shoulder, and I’m helpless to resist the desire to nip at her, to lap at the blood on her skin, at the place where I bit her.

I’ll lose my place in the Hunt for this…unless I can show them that her survival is deserved.

The head she’s fetched should do the trick.

“Do you want to be covered up when you speak with them?” I ask. “I can get you clothes…”

“No,” she says. “I don’t need to be. I’m not ashamed, and I don’t need armor to be a valued hunter.”

I reluctantly put her down when we get back onboard my ship, and she follows me naked to the cockpit. There, I have a direct connection to the Order on Alamancia, and I cue it up right away to ensure that they can see her battle scars. Fawn stands with her chin lifted, her blonde hair clumped with blue blood, her shoulder still weeping.

My bite mark is clear.

This will be a point against me.

The comm flickers to life, a holograph appearing above it. My Mlok Preceptor stands stoic on the other side, his eyes narrowed as he sets them on Fawn. She holds up the head of the zimya without preamble, and I look at the Preceptor, Rakyr, in defiance.

“I found the human I was sent to hunt,” I tell him. “But she has proven that she is not like he other primitives on this planet. She wants to join our Order.”

He takes in all the details: her disheveled state, her nakedness, the bite on her shoulder. He looks from Fawn to me with a scowl.

“You cannot claim a human and call it yours,” he says.

“I’m not his,” she says. “I belong to no one but myself—and I killed this creature, fair and square.”

“I know for a fact that the zimya was onboard your vessel, Nyrik,” Rakyr says. “How did it get loose, unless you planned this whole thing?”

“I did nothing to help her,” I say. “She caught the beast on her own.”

Rakyr’s frill expands and contracts, and his pupils turn to slits. “This is not a rescue mission. You were instructed not to bring any humans on your ship.”

“I won’t let her go,” I snarl.

Fawn looks at me with wide eyes, her lips parting.

“Then you, too, will be hunted,” Rakyr says.

And the hologram disappears.

I turn and slam my fist against the wall, roaring with rage. Fawn doesn’t so much as balk.

“You should have known it wasn’t going to work,” she says.

I round on her.

“This is my life, Fawn,” I hiss. “This isn’t a petty game.”

“And it’s my planet,” she says.

We stare each other down, her jaw tense.

“What if I proposed something else to you?” she asks.