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And that was when Siray realised. His touch was all wrong.

  It wasn’t Zale.

  Siray’s instincts screamed at her, and she pushed back from the figure, unsteady on her feet as she gasped in panic.

  But the shadow was faster and seized Siray’s shoulders again with a steely grip, thwarting her escape.

  Twisting viciously, Siray struggled against her assailant, kicking out at the male still shrouded in shadow, but her aggressor merely swung her around and slammed her painfully up against the room’s invisible wall, making Siray’s body go numb at the impact, which was almost instantly replaced by a wave of agony, and tingling, due to the proximity field.

  The figure leaned in, and warm breath caressed Siray’s face. ‘Siray. I knew you’d come when summoned.’

  Siray knew that crawling whisper. She dragged her eyes upwards, and the barest hint of remaining light projected by the room revealed the angles of Mocery’s face, and his growing leer, before the last of the light disappeared completely.

  ‘Let me go, Mocery,’ she warned him, struggling painfully, and futilely, against his hold on her. Larger, stronger, and far more experienced than she with grappling, Siray found herself pinned.

  ‘Why?’ he posed in a drawling whisper. ‘I figure you just need a taste of what I can give you. It’s not very traditional, but then a number of mated pairs don’t go in for those customs anymore.’ He slid one powerful forearm upwards and pressed it tightly across Siray’s throat, making her gasp for air and raise both hands to try and shove his arm away.

  And then, with her immobilised, he began slowly trailing the fingers of his other hand down over her body, tracing the line of her breasts through her shirt, running his hand across her stomach, and moving it towards her thigh.

  Her fear mounting, Siray pushed back against Mocery, removing the pressure of his arm for an instant, allowing herself to gasp in some air. But he recovered his balance swiftly and shoved her violently against the wall again, causing Siray’s skull to strike the wall hard and a white flash of light to appear across her vision. She groaned at the pain and dizziness that flowed over her, but even that was cut short as Mocery’s arm once more became a heavy pressure against her airway.

  As the whiteness in her vision transformed into small, bursting pinpricks of light, she had only a vague awareness of someone crushing their lips against hers and the weight of a solid body pressing her cruelly into the wall.

  Distantly she noted the trickle of something down her neck, and some sleepy part of her wondered if it was raining.

  Then, a sudden, almost animal roar, a rush of air from the side, and Mocery’s body was torn away from hers, causing Siray to collapse, wheezing, to the ground by the wall. Dizzy, but hearing noises, she tried to pivot on her hands and feet, but her body refused to cooperate, and she wasn’t quite sure which way was up anyhow. After a couple of goes, she succeeded in getting her limbs out of the way and rolled on the hard rock to see two large shadows rolling about the lip of the shelf.

  The figure on top was punching at the one beneath, and, when the body on the ground finally lay still, the other stood, breathing heavily.

  Watching dazedly as the person whirled towards her, Siray remembered the danger and struggled to stand, staggering against the wall.

  Seeing this, the dark form rushed over. ‘Siray! Are you okay? Are you hurt?’

  Closing her eyes in relief at hearing the rapid questions being asked in Zale’s voice, Siray sagged. ‘I’m okay,’ she mumbled, opening her eyes.

  Reaching her side, Zale put a steadying hand under her arm, but then he grabbed on to her more firmly as she swayed.

  Siray twisted her head where the shadow that was Mocery’s body lay. ‘Is he …?’

  ‘Unconscious? Yeah, well and truly. He can hold his own in a fight, but he’s not worth a choking vine when caught from behind.’

  Siray didn’t say anything but felt another rush of dizziness as she looked again towards Mocery. ‘I thought he was you,’ she said softly. ‘I thought you had arranged this with Genlie, so I didn’t suspect anything … until …’ Her voice failed her.

  ‘Let’s get you out of here,’ Zale said as he slid an arm around her waist to guide her slowly in the direction of the door. Gradually, in the lonely glow of the projected stars overhead, they made their way to where the door stood, a pale shadow in the dark.

  When Zale activated the door, the light made Siray’s eyes hurt and her head ache. She squinted as they stepped into the hallway, her eyes adjusting little by little.

  Zale was looking at her carefully, now that they were in the hallway, and glancing down, Siray saw her clothes were in disarray. She gestured for him to pause, not wanting the guards to see her like this, and took a moment to straighten her shirt and dust the dirt from it.

  As she tilted her chin to do a final check of her appearance, her hair fell around her face, and she brushed it to one side in her usual manner. As her hand brushed past her ear on one side, she flinched.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Zale was in front of her in an instant, his eyes concerned.

  ‘It’s nothing,’ Siray said automatically, but then relented under the gaze of his golden eyes. ‘My head’s just a little sensitive from when I hit the wall.’ She glanced down at the hand she had used to move her hair aside and sucked in a breath as she saw the blood on it.

  Zale’s face darkened as he also saw the blood, but he reined in his anger to ask gently, ‘May I?’ He gestured to her head.

  Siray shrugged and turned so he could inspect the place behind her ear where her head was pounding.

  An intake of breath, then: ‘I’m taking you to the healing level,’ Zale declared.

  ‘What? No, I’m fine, Zale.’ Siray tried to prove the fact by striding away from him, but she didn’t make it two steps before her legs wobbled.

  Zale caught her before she’d even realised she was falling and scooped her up into his arms. ‘It’s alright,’ he said quietly, cradling her body to his chest as he began walking once more. ‘I won’t say anything about … what happened,’ he ground out, ‘unless you want me to.’ He was quiet for a moment. ‘I can say we were messing around in the rehab room and that you fell and hit your head.’

  Relieved, Siray gave a small nod of her head. She didn’t know what she wanted to do yet, but for now, she didn’t want people fussing over her any more than required. Then a worrying thought hit her. ‘What if they decide I’m not fit for duty and don’t allow me to go on the mission with the others?’ She didn’t want to be separated from her friends—not now.

  Looking down at her as he carried her along, Zale shook his head. ‘Don’t worry about it. I’ll take you to Nafren. He’ll be discreet.’

  Siray allowed herself to relax in his arms, trusting his word as they turned the corner of the hallway and arrived at where the guards were stationed.

  Zale spoke to them in a light tone, showed them the device on his arm, even made a joke, and got the guards to summon a riser. When the platform arrived, he stepped onto it, still carrying Siray, and the doors closed. ‘I better tell Nafren about Mocery, although I’m quite tempted to just leave him there,’ he growled.

  The chime as the platform arrived at the healing level seemed louder than usual, and Siray was too dazed to stop a groan escaping her as Zale stepped from the platform, holding her tightly.

  The two guards standing watch approached, not having expected anyone at this point in the evening, and Zale explained that Siray’s injury required the attention of Nafren, who had been tending to her recently.

  One of the guards took a glance at her head, then lifted his arm and punched something into the device on his arm. A moment later, he nodded at Zale. ‘Follow me.’ The guard led them down a hallway and into a small room with a patient bed and a couple of chairs. ‘The healer will be here shortly,’ said the guard before leaving the room.

  Siray squeezed her eyes shut as Zale carefully set her down on the bed, her stomach not appreciat
ing the movement, but then she opened them again when it only made it worse. Her head was pounding, so she tried to sit up, but that was the final straw for her stomach, and she leaned over the edge of the bed and vomited the contents of her dinner into a bin that Zale was just fast enough to position there.

  That was when Nafren walked in.

  He took one look at her being sick over the bin before striding briskly to the bedside. ‘What happened?’ His voice was authoritative and familiar.

  ‘She hit her head,’ Zale said. ‘In the rehab room. It was on the cliff night setting, so she tripped in the dark and stumbled into the wall.’ He indicated the spot where Siray’s head felt like it was splitting.

  Nafren cupped Siray’s chin in his hands as he ever so slightly tilted her face away from the bin she was still leaning over so that he could examine the injury. ‘Mmmmm. I can help with that.’ He turned her chin a little farther up to look at him, and he peered into her eyes briefly before letting go and bending down to check her hands, elbows, and knees. Seeming satisfied, Nafren moved away from the bed, grabbed hold of a trolley that stood against the opposite wall of the room, and pulled it towards the bed. ‘Now, sweet, I’m going to clean this cut for you and put a healing strip over it,’ he explained, preparing a tray of tools. He kept talking to her, asking questions as he carefully tied her hair up in such a way that it didn’t obscure her injury. Then he went about cleaning the cut, which stung a bit, and then carefully applied a healing strip, which, he explained, would draw the skin back together while also infusing the affected area with a numbing agent.

  Afterwards, he eyed his work for a moment before he untied her hair again, letting it fall to conceal her injury.

  ‘Now, Siray,’ he said a little more firmly as he crossed his arms. ‘Is there anything else you want to tell me about how this happened?’ Concern filled his eyes, his glance sliding to Zale.

  Siray swallowed, understanding that Nafren’s examination of her had conveyed far more than anything that had already been said. But as much as she liked the healer, she couldn’t face reliving the events of the evening just then. ‘No, Nafren,’ she said. But then she added, ‘Zale’s been a great help though.’ She didn’t want the healer thinking Zale was responsible.

  ‘Actually,’ said Zale, ‘there is something else, Nafren.’

  Siray flicked her eyes towards Zale, alarmed, but Zale wasn’t looking at her.

  The healer shifted to scrutinise Zale, listening.

  ‘Siray thinks there might have been someone else in the room with her, but we couldn’t really be sure as it was so dark.’

  Siray sighed quietly in relief, then glanced at Nafren to see his reaction.

  But Nafren’s eyes weren’t looking at Zale’s face—they were focused downwards on Zale’s hands.

  And when Siray moved her gaze downwards as well, she tensed. The knuckles on both of Zale’s hands were bruised, and two on his right hand had split open, leaving bloody smears on his skin.

  Nafren was now looking between the two of them, a rigid expression on his face. ‘Someone else, you think?’ he asked in a carefully neutral tone. His eyes, however, asked a different question.

  Siray nodded slowly.

  ‘Well, then,’ said Nafren, forcing a tight smile even as his eyes hardened. ‘I better go down and take a look, just to be sure.’

  Siray gave him a small smile. ‘Thanks, Nafren,’ she said quietly.

  ‘You know where the healing strips are, Zale,’ the healer added casually, pivoting away to arrange some of his tools for a moment.

  Zale quietly pocketed some supplies.

  As Nafren turned back around, he extended one arm, the pale-grey cloth of his shirt brushing against Siray’s fingers as he patted her hand gently. ‘No more evening wanderings, okay?’ The smile he gave her was warm and light, but his gentle touch became firm for an instant, before he stepped away from the bedside.

  Zale helped Siray to sit up and guided her to the edge of the bed. ‘I’ll see that she stays safe.’

  Nafren nodded, watching closely as Zale helped Siray ease off the bed and let her lean on his arm as they left.

  The two of them didn’t speak again until they had reached the living and recreation level and entered the room Siray shared with the others. None of her friends were there, and Siray breathed out a sigh of relief that it was one of those rare moments when she could actually have a bit of privacy.

  Zale helped her to the couch, then sat down on the one across from her. ‘Are you going to tell any of the others about what happened?’ he enquired.

  Siray laughed humourlessly. ‘What—and have them get worried and protective?’ She shook her head. ‘No.’

  Zale leaned forwards, resting his hands on his knees. ‘You should tell Baindan or Deson.’

  Siray peered at him, frowning a little.

  ‘Then at least I’d know that someone else will keep a close eye on you. Or on Mocery, if he comes near you again.’ The raw skin of Zale’s knuckles stretched as his hands tightened into fists.

  Siray leaned into the cushions behind her and sighed, understanding his concern. However, telling Baindan or Deson would result in them becoming her personal shadows. She compromised. ‘I promise I’ll tell Genlie at least. Is that okay?’

  Zale nodded, pleased. ‘Good.’

  They sat for a moment in silence before Siray asked the question that had been circling in her mind. She didn’t want it to sound rude, but she was curious. ‘How did you know where I was?’

  Zale leaned back in his seat. ‘I got to the rec room a little after your friends arrived, and when I didn’t see you with them, I asked Genlie where you were.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘When she told me you had been directed to go to the rehab room after the evening meal, I got suspicious.’ He shook his head. ‘You might have been too, if you’d known that the healers rarely ask people to attend therapy sessions in the evening.’

  ‘And that’s another thing,’ said Siray. Her head pounded as she pursued her thoughts, but she pressed on and asked, ‘How did Mocery manage to send that message to me anyway? Isn’t that system locked down?’

  Zale winced. ‘Yeah, it is. He’s obviously found a way to tap into it without anyone else knowing.’

  Siray was about to ask him how that was even possible when she heard a knock on the door, and she jumped a little in her seat in surprise, wincing. ‘Please tell me that sound isn’t in my head,’ she directed to Zale.

  He stood and swept around her couch at a brisk walk in the direction of the door. ‘Nope, it definitely isn’t. I’ll see who it is.’

  Siray twisted her neck to watch him head towards the door and listened intently as he opened it.

  ‘Genlie?’ Zale exclaimed in surprise. ‘Baindan? Why are you knocking?’

  ‘Don’t really know,’ Genlie said, ‘although I haven’t seen some of the others in a while and didn’t want to walk in on anything in case one of them had been especially charming this evening.’

  Siray heard the underlying teasing tone in Genlie’s voice as she babbled and groaned to herself. She could just imagine what Baindan must be thinking right now as he realised Siray and Zale had been alone in the room together. Which would be nothing to what he’d be thinking in a moment, as it would be hard to conceal a minor concussion from the two experienced soldiers. ‘Come on in,’ she called out to them. And winced. Even her own voice hurt her ears.

  As she lay on the couch listening to the three pairs of feet approach, Siray sighed at the knowledge of the inquisition that was about to take place. Well, at least she could let Zale do most of the talking.

  As Genlie rounded the corner of the couch, she began, ‘There you are. I’ve been wondering what …’ Her face paled as her eyes really took in Siray’s face. Then she was moving swiftly to squat by the couch. ‘What happened?’ she demanded.

  Siray glanced at Zale, hoping he would help her out, but Genlie misread the look.

  Genlie tensed, standing quickly as h
er eye’s flashed. ‘Did you …?’

  Siray waved her hand and tried to sit up when she saw Baindan also go still. ‘No, no. Zale helped me, Genlie.’

  Zale came over and tried to nudge her down against the cushions of the seat once more, but Siray only complied when Genlie also gently pressed her down.

  Zale turned to the others. ‘The message Siray received to go to the rehab room was a fake. When she got there, Mocery attacked her.’

  Genlie paled again and looked back to Siray, resting a hand on her shoulder.

  Baindan’s reaction was far different. ‘What?’ The word exploded out of him.

  Zale nodded. ‘After Genlie told me where Siray had gone, I thought it sounded a bit odd—it didn’t fit the normal schedule. So, I went down there to check on her. When I got to the room’—Zale hesitated slightly—‘I saw someone had her pinned to the wall. I tackled that person and realised it was Mocery.’

  ‘I’m going to crush him,’ Baindan snarled, whirling to storm out of the room.

  ‘Leave it,’ Zale called to him in a firm voice. When Baindan paused to twist around, Zale added calmly, ‘I already took care of it.’

  ‘Did you?’ asked Baindan, his voice harsh, but surprisingly he did actually stroll slowly over to them again, even if his face still spoke volumes about what he’d like to be doing to Mocery right now.

  Zale nodded, raising his fists to display the healing strips now working to repair his torn knuckles. ‘He was out cold when I got Siray out of there. And once Siray had been seen to by Nafren, I let the healer know that he should go check out the therapy room.’

  Baindan scrutinised Zale’s fists for a long moment before he gave a quick nod of comprehension.

  Siray looked at Genlie and Baindan, hoping they would understand. ‘We didn’t tell Nafren what happened, but I’m pretty sure he guessed most of it.’

  Genlie crouched back down beside Siray and grasped her hand. ‘Why didn’t you tell Nafren? They’d lock Mocery up for this.’

  Siray shook her head. ‘And then Nafren would have had to report my injury, probably delaying our chance, or at least mine, at a mission.’