Skye cursed his sightless eyes. The commotion happening next to him made no sense. Skye heard the woman shrieking at the top of her lungs, slapping noises accompanying her cries. With an eerie suddenness, the shrieking stopped, and he heard the woman begin to hyperventilate, making whimpering noises in the back of her throat. What in Goddess’s name was going on? In frustration he located where everyone stood by sound, trying to determine what the commotion was. Everyone—except Tighan—was standing in the small corridor. The harsh sound of blows was the woman hitting herself.

Something he couldn’t see or sense was attacking them. He automatically dropped into a defensive fighting stance and waited for the unknown assailant to attack.

Except no attack ever came. His confusion rose to new heights when the big paka roared. The volume of the feline’s voice was such that he couldn’t, at first, understand the words as they rebounded across the empty space. Then he heard Tighan’s pounding footsteps return from scouting ahead.

When the woman passed out, fierce bickering between the paka and the two Kurites took over. He shook his head in wonder and sneered. How did they ever accomplish anything? His smirk vanished when he overheard Chion’s explanation. It wasn’t possible, was it? Pyrannis were attacking the same village they approached. A surge of adrenaline swept through his body at the thought he could be rescued from the endless, impenetrable dark.

Closing his eyes, he listened intently as their debate came to an end.

The deep, thoughtful voice of the paka said, We cannot leave My Lady lying here in the tunnel. The attackers are too near, and the possibility of discovery is too high.

The grating, nasal voice of Matu complained, “We can’t carry her. We need our hands t’ fight.”

She is defenseless in her current state, growled Chion.

There was a brief silence before Tighan said, “We won’t carry her, but the P’ranni can.” There was another pause, and he could feel the weight of their eyes on him. He opened his eyes and found the golden eyes right in front of him.

He felt the paka’s breath hit his hands as it said in a resigned voice, So be it.

Thinking it the only way to get the Kurites moving toward the village and his people, he agreed with one exception. “I will carry her, but I need my hands untied to hold her.”

Three denials bounced back to him before he completed his sentence. Tighan said, “Forget it, P’ranni.”

Skye felt the rope tighten on his hands, and he was pulled toward the unconscious woman. He felt something step close to his right leg right before Chion threatened him. Harm her in this state, and I will demand retribution by dragging your live carcass to the nesting grounds of the rakir. I will watch as they tear you apart limb by bleeding limb. Are we clear?

The message was eclipsed by the menace lacing every word spoken by the paka. Foreboding crawled up his spine despite his determination to escape his guards and join the other warriors. He had no doubt the paka would follow through with his promise. He nodded and rolled his shoulders in preparation.

Pick her up gently. With your hands bound, you will have to carry her over your shoulder.

Skye struggled not to voice his discomfort as he knelt. Although his wounds to his groin no longer caused him to flinch with every jolting step, putting pressure on the area was still painful. He trailed his bound hands across the ground until he hit the woman’s motionless body. A body part rose and fell, and he identified it as her ribcage. He slid his hands up her body and past her breasts before a thought crossed his mind.

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Lifting his head up and staring into the dark, he said, “One of you needs to lift her upper body off the ground.” He heard one of the men drop down and grunt as he lifted the woman’s chest. Skye wrapped his arms around the woman, placed his shoulder into her stomach and stood up. When he felt her hipbone poke his shoulder, he adjusted her weight to a more comfortable position.

His hands were jerked sideways, forcing him to step forward to keep his balance. The woman’s leg swung into his groin, and he grunted in pain. He inched his tied hands over for better control. A fast pace was set and before long sweat rolled down his face. He wasn’t surprised when he felt—rather than heard—the paka keep pace beside him.

A scuffle traveled back to him as they jogged forward. They must be close to the village. One of his guards had crossed paths with a Pyranni perimeter guard. When they turned the corner, Skye caught a momentary glimpse of his surroundings before the torch was extinguished with a low, phishing sound. The short fight had ended with a blond-haired man lying lifeless in a growing puddle of his own blood. He didn’t have time to see if he recognized him before his sight was gone. The smell of smoke drifted past his nose in the dark. His captors never paused in their race to the village.

Skye noticed a gradual lessening to darkness, though everything was shrouded in shadows. He grinned in triumph when the din reached his ears. The screams of the villagers overpowered the distinctive clash of weapons and the war cries of the Pyranni warriors. All of the sudden, he could see a dead end. Both of the guards turned a sharp corner, making the rope grind against the tunnel wall as it skated around the wall. The corridor twisted in on itself and a steep incline was bathed in flickering torchlight. The introduction of light to his light-deprived eyes left him blinking owlishly in reaction.

They had arrived.

Skye reached the top of the ramp where the entrance was an opening in the floor and found himself on the edge of an all-out skirmish. Panting from the combination of his load and their quick journey, Skye scanned his immediate surroundings, trying to determine the battle’s outcome. Skye froze when his matted hair was seized by one of the guards.

The point of a knife pricked his side in warning, and the gruff voice of Tighan said, “Follow Matu t’ the shed across the field. Fight or make a sound, and I’ll kill ye where ye stand.”

With his head still held at an awkward angle, he lowered his eyes when he heard the low animalistic growl to the paka beside him. He gaped in shock. He had no idea the paka was a solid white. Still carrying his cumbersome burden, he stumbled a few steps when his head was shoved by Tighan. The paka paid no attention to the battle, keeping his focus on the woman.

The dead of both Kurites and Pyrannis littered the ground where the attack had commenced. The lack of fighters proved the skirmish had crossed the village’s fields, moving into the village itself.

Unnoticed, they edged closer to the village proper, slipping through the shadows of outlying buildings. As they eased between structures, Skye caught brief glimpses of the skirmish.

Pyranni, put her down here.

In the deep shadows, he made out a small depression—one large enough for the short woman bent over his shoulder. He jiggled her until she slid down his chest, and laid her down. Before he could stand back up in relief, a knife hilt cuffed him on the side of the head.

Raising his bound hands to his head, it took Skye a moment to realize the stars he was seeing were not his. The sensation came from the female paka. Skye shook his head to rid himself of the dizziness.

Nearby a frightened scream echoed off the rock buildings, the acoustics making it sound like the feline was right next to him.

“Eiren,” he breathed in relief. She was alive. Without thinking, he stood up and scrambled toward the sound, drawn to her by some unseen force. He didn’t wonder how she had survived or how she’d reached the village before him. He didn’t remember he could talk to her through their link. He didn’t recall that she was one of his enemies. His need to reach her was too great.

Skye took two steps forward before he was jerked to a halt as the rope tautened with a snap. His wrists—already scraped raw—began bleeding, but the pain didn’t register. Flipped around, he learned Matu held the other end of the rope in a tight grip. The other Kurites were gone, having silently slipped away, joining the battle to save the villagers. Matu was chosen to guard both him and the girl.

But Skye noticed the small details for the obstacles they were. His entire focus was on one thing.

Finding the paka.

Through the roaring in his head, he heard Matu ask, “Where do ye think ye’re going?”

Without a plan, only knowing he must reach Eiren, he charged Matu with a double-fisted punch to the face. Skye heard bone crunch, and he watched without expression as the other man died with one last monosyllabic word. “Unh.”

He was moving before his captor hit the ground. He leapt toward the paka’s continued screams. His only thought was he had to save her.