Page 24 of Shadow

I glanced at Nokita, sitting beside him.

“If the woman can help pave the way for cooperation with humans, give her a chance,” Nokita said, throwing Beck a sidelong glance.

Beck’s response was a low, menacing growl, the sound reverberating around the room. No one acknowledged it. We had all grown accustomed to his dislike of just about everything and everyone.

My gaze settled on Labyrinth. His mismatched eyes revealed nothing, but his tone did. “Humans are the problem,and this woman is human,” he said. “We can negotiate with her all we want, but that doesn’t mean her government will honor any treaty she brokers.”

Axel spoke next, his tone light, as always. “We don’t kill women unless we have to, and we didn’t bring her here to slaughter her on arrival. Though after her stint in the green room, I have my doubts.” He gave Beck a hard stare, like it was his fault. “Her government may not abide by any agreement, but is that really her fault?” He shifted his gaze to Beck and Labyrinth. “You got exactly what you asked for, so why the grumbling now?” he said with calm accusation.

“Does everyone feel better?” I asked, my tone lined with sarcasm, though my patience was threadbare.

“Better?” Beck’s growl matched his posture as he leaned forward, his large biceps flexing, threatening the seams of his sleeves.

“Yes, better,” I replied, my voice rising to match his idiotic, never-ending anger. “The woman stays, no one touches her, and we see where it leads. Right now, we’re killing time as we gather more intel. And time is essential.”

Beck leaned further forward, his palms pressing flat against the table, his glare locking on mine. “If you don’t intend to listen to us, why are we here?” His grumble carried just enough heat, along with the sustained eye contact, to ignite Beast’s attention. I pushed against the K-5 surge, reining it in quickly.

“We’re here,” I bit out, temper straining against its leash, “because I’m tired of the whining about the woman. The decision to bring her here was unanimous. We have bigger problems, and I don’t want to hear another complaint, or I’ll start knocking your fucking heads together.” My gaze swept the room one final time. “Are we finished?”

Slowly, the council members pulled their knives from the table, each one rising in turn. I left my blade until last, sliding it back into its side holster with practiced ease.

“I’m going riding,” I said as I stood. “I want privacy.” Without waiting for a response, I turned on my heel and headed outside, letting the crisp air fill my lungs as I strode toward my bike.

Beck followed because he was a stubborn bastard who didn’t seem to care that I needed space. I revved the engine loudly as I took off, shifting gears hard and picking up speed. The roar of the engine drowned out the silence between us, and I was grateful. Beck didn’t say a word, which suited me just fine.

We rode along the coastline of Peninsula Varadero, the ocean breeze whipping past us, until we merged onto the main coastal road leading to Havana. The journey cleared my head, the steady hum of the bike releasing some of my tension. After about thirty minutes, we arrived at one of our agricultural zones. The sight of men and women working the fields while children gathered for lessons in the nearby open-air classroom reassured me. Here, everyone contributed. No exceptions. The climate allowed for year-round growing, and we were stockpiling food as fast as we could harvest it. Survival didn’t tolerate slackers.

We had established a tribunal system for the humans to handle conflicts, with three human representatives and three Warriors sitting on the panel. I cast the deciding vote in case of a tie. For Warriors, the rules were harsher. We held ourselves to a higher standard. Our beasts’ violent nature demanded vigilance. We had seen what happened when we let chaos reign, and I refused to let history repeat itself. This island was proof we could have the best of both worlds, and I intended to make it work.

I cut the engine and climbed off the bike, leaving Beck to idle behind me. He didn’t move, just watched with that perpetual scowl of his.

Cabel, one of my elite guards, strode toward me. Recently married, his demeanor was calm. For now.

“King,” he greeted, stopping a respectful distance away. His gaze remained lowered, his posture formal.

Behind him, his wife lingered about ten feet back, her hands clasped in front of her. She didn’t look up, keeping her place as expected due to Cabel’s volatile just-mated ability to go from zero to ten on a scale of fury in a split second. Cabel’s loyalty and discipline were the reasons he was among my trusted few. But just-mated meant he couldn’t be completely trusted right now.

“How’s married life, Cabel?” I asked, keeping my tone neutral. I didn’t look directly at his wife, just let her stay in my peripheral vision. The last thing I needed was for Cabel’s beast to misinterpret my attention as a threat. His mating instincts were still fresh, and while he was my size, I was confident of the outcome if it came to a fight. He wouldn’t walk away intact. His dirty blond hair and signature blue eyes, framed by a slightly rounder face than mine, made him less intimidating in appearance, but only to those who didn’t know what he was capable of. I had assigned him to oversee our food supply until his beast calmed down or war called us back to the front lines.

When our ancestors came to Earth over two hundred years ago, they had chosen farming as a way to assimilate peacefully into the human population. It had been a calculated decision. Our violent nature had caused us to destroy our own planet, and the survivors knew change was the only path to survival here. Farming, along with shifting to a diet of mostly fruits and vegetables, had helped tame our beasts. It worked for a time, but now, with our true natures resurfacing, many of the men saw farming as beneath them. I disagreed. We could be both farmers and warriors. While we could survive on animal protein alone, humans could not.

“Marriage is good for me,” Cabel said. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder at his wife, who stayed rooted in place behind him. Without missing a beat, he shifted the conversation to our crops. “This harvest should yield high. More than enough to fill the storage bunkers for another year.”

I looked over the fields, a vast expanse of green stretching as far as I could see. Rows upon rows of vegetables grew under the bright Cuban sun.

“We may be feeding more humans soon,” I told him.

Cabel’s gaze snapped back to me, his voice carrying the low rumble of restrained emotion. “You planning to help the Federation?”

The bitterness in his tone was unmistakable. It echoed how we all felt. After we had saved humanity from annihilation, their betrayal and the killing of Greystone had been the worst possible outcome. It was a wound that still festered.

“I haven’t made up my mind, even though I know it’s the best option for our survival. They sent Church’s daughter to bargain,” I said evenly, my gaze still scanning the fields.

Cabel let out a low whistle. “Didn’t even know he had a daughter.”

“She’s not exactly a child, and she was very much her father’s daughter, though she doesn’t know it yet,” I replied, my tone more thoughtful than anything else. “Boot is training her to fight. It buys me time so I can get the latest update from our source within the Federation.”

“If you decide not to help the humans, you should keep her here. We owe it to Church.”

---