Page 3 of Shadow

Sharp anger flared. This damned addendum to my already impossible mission had at least kept my mind off the sharks below for part of the trip. But it was proof that the government hadn’t learned a fucking thing about dealing with the Shadow Warriors. We needed someone like my father, someone who understood diplomacy, respect, and strategy.Instead, they were stuck with me, barely a shadow of him and certainly nowhere close to second-best.

As the plane began its descent, a knot of nerves tightened in my stomach. The government, in its infinite wisdom, sent me here alone with no security and no backup. The pilot’s orders were to leave the moment I was off the plane. The entire plan amplified my sense of vulnerability and added to my terror.

What unsettled me most was the unknown. King, the Shadow Warrior leader I was supposed to meet, was a wild card. The government knew almost nothing about him. Greystone, the leader during my father’s time, died when the Federation decided to go to battle with him and his men. With him went any sense of predictability in dealing with the Warriors.

I took a steady breath and tried to focus on the task ahead. If I survived long enough to deliver an apology, my next move would be to understand King. What drove him, what he wanted, and most importantly, what it would take to forge peace between our nations. My limbs trembled despite my resolve. The truth was, we needed the Shadow Warriors on our side. Without them, humanity was doomed.

I had made peace with the idea of death; it was the getting there that terrified me. If the Shadow Warriors decided to kill me, I hoped it would be quick. I didn’t want to see it coming.

Chapter Two

Marinah

The seat belt dug into my stomach as the plane jolted and screeched through its bumpy landing. By the time we came to a stop, my fingers had left indentations in the vinyl. I rubbed my sweaty palms against the ridiculous skirt I’d been forced to wear. Damp stains spreading across the fabric were the least of my concerns. If I had anything else to change into, I wouldn’t have hesitated.

King’s rules had left no room for negotiation: one female liaison, no weapons, no luggage, no men except for the pilot, who was under strict orders to stay on the plane. No explanations, just non-negotiable directives.

Sunlight filtered through the small windows, casting a glare across the ocean I had just survived flying over. On the black tarmac ahead, a group of Shadow Warriors waited, their presence terrifying. The heat didn’t seem to bother them at all. Even in human form, they were colossal. Wide black straps crisscrossed their bare chests, emphasizing every corded muscle and holding enough weapons to bring down this plane if they wanted to. My heels wobbled as I took in their sheer, overwhelming power.

Lovely.

At least they were clothed from the waist down. According to the briefing I had skimmed during the flight, nudity was their preferred state. My father had conveniently left that detail out of his stories, though I couldn’t say I blamed him. He had worked hard to shield me from the harsh realities of the new world order, cocooning me in safety while the rest of humanity suffered.

I should have asked more questions. I should have told him I loved him more often. And I shouldn’t have been here at all.

The weight of this mission crashed down on me, as heavy as the title of Defense Secretary itself. Sitting on the sidelines, existing without purpose, had been easy. Too easy. Never again. I was done coasting on the government’s grace, a job I had only kept because of my father’s name after his death. The alternative, a red stripe, had always been waiting for me, and despite the terror of standing here, the thought of that stripe frightened me even more.

Now it was time to earn my place, though I couldn’t ignore the gnawing certainty that this mission might be my first and last.

A nervous laugh escaped under my breath. Let’s see if I survived the next hour. Rising to my feet, I smoothed down my skirt, cringing at its short length. The gesture was more for reassurance than appearance, and I headed toward the door. The pilot stood and shook my hand, his expression forbidding. Great. Just what I needed to steady my nerves. I nodded silently, unwilling to waste my parched voice on pleasantries. No one had thought to provide water for the trip, and I was saving what little moisture remained for when words might actually matter.

The engines continued their low rumble as the door hissed open. A wave of warm, sticky air slid into the cabin, clinging to my skin like an unwelcome embrace. The mechanicalstairs lowered with a groaning rattle that shook the plane and sent my teeth clattering together. Gripping the unstable rail tightly, I took my first step into the oppressive Cuban heat.

Do not fall, do not fall.The mantra looped in my head as I kept my eyes trained on my feet, squinting against the glare. I wished desperately for sunglasses, anything to block the blinding sunlight reflecting off the tarmac. Then, a large shadow moved across my path, and instinctively, I looked up.

Big mistake.

I missed the next step. The flimsy rail wobbled under my grip, and I stumbled down the last four stairs. Pain exploded through my hands and knees as I hit the ground, gravel digging sharply into my skin. A high-pitched cry escaped my dry throat, and humiliation washed over me. If I stacked up all the embarrassing moments in my life, this would be perched firmly at the top.

Glancing up, I was greeted by the scuffed military boots of a man standing in front of me. My gaze traveled upward. Faded camouflage pants, a belted waist, and a chest bare except for those damnable leather straps. He was all bulging muscles and quiet power. He didn’t extend a hand to help. Instead, he stepped back, leaving me to collect myself.

Behind me, the mechanical stairs retracted with a metallic clatter, the whir of hydraulics cutting through the thick air. I glanced over my shoulder just in time to see the plane begin to taxi away. The pilot was leaving. No lingering goodbyes, no safety net. If there was any consolation, it was that he was likely not looking out the window to see me sprawled on the ground, my skirt riding up in a way that left far too much on display.

Turning my face toward the Shadow Warrior’s boots, now mere inches from my nose, I couldn’t help but cling to my sense of humor. The thought crossed my mind to bend lower andkiss them. It seemed like something the Federation might have envisioned for this little diplomatic mission.

What must I have looked like to the man standing above me? Sprawled on the ground, skirt askew, and about as dignified as a wet cat. I had fallen so many times in my life that I had stopped apologizing for my clumsiness, but maybe this was one of those rare occasions where diplomacy trumped humiliation.

We’d see.

With all the grace of a newborn giraffe, I pushed myself off the ground, forcing a toothy grin onto my face. Dust coated my palms, and I smeared it across the skirt I already despised. My scraped knees protested as I straightened, but I ignored them. When I finally locked eyes with the man towering before me, my breath caught. His eyes were a startling, icy blue, and they pinned me in place as if daring me to falter again.

I took an unsteady step back, needing some distance between us as I assessed him. It was King. I knew it without a doubt. No one else could pull off the name with the kind of commanding presence this man radiated. He wasn’t handsome in the conventional romance-novel sense. His features were rough-edged: a square jaw, a nose that had clearly been broken at least once, and piercingly unfriendly eyes. Yet something about him, a quiet, dangerous confidence, the full curve of his lips, struck a feminine nerve in me, and I wished it hadn’t. It made me want to straighten my posture and add a sway to my hips.

Not happening.

I shoved the thought aside and nervously extended my hand, keeping my grin firmly in place. “I’m Marinah Church,” I said, injecting far more bravado into my voice than I actually felt.

King didn’t even glance at my outstretched hand. He ignored my shaky introduction entirely, elevating scary warrior,half-animal dominance to a whole new level. Instead, he bent slightly at the waist, leaning in close. Too damned close. His face tilted beside mine, and before I could react, he inhaled deeply.

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