Page 33 of Zar

Chapter Ten

Zar flew through the mid-morning sky with Kade, Therius, Venn, Zadoc and Dyre at his back. He led the lethal unit to the north side of the mountain. Naxon. A Zenarian as old as he. Every bit as powerful and twice as deadly because Naxon’s heart was a solid mass of black hate. Zar had never understood Naxon’s loathing towards him and his brothers. Only that it was strong and only gotten stronger over the centuries.

Naxon lived on his own. A rogue. Zar took every measure to keep tabs on Naxon and he knew that the lone Zenarian associated with Queen Lyria, but even she didn’t trust him. Why had he come now? Could he know of Callie? That Zar had found his ofelia? Is that what he wanted? To take her from him. Naxon’s hate towards him had always been like a thick, suffocating blanket. If only Zar knew its source, then perhaps he could find a resolution.

But that was a fool’s wish. Naxon only showed up to cause trouble. Zar thought of Callie’s sweet smile, her smart wit and the gentle way she curled into his body during their slumber. He vowed that Naxon would not touch her and live. As long as Naxon was around Callie was in grave danger. Of that, he was positive. Kade had often warned Zar that Naxon was becoming more unstable as the years wore on, but Zar had held out hope that he could reach the irritating male. “Damn it!” Zar shouted as he flew faster. He only prayed to Garra that his foolishness didn’t get Callie killed.

When he spotted movement below, Zar swooped. He landed in a valley with swift precision, his brothers and Dyre flanking him. Zar let his eyes change and sought the woods for Naxon’s heat signature. He and his brothers were the only ones who recognized it on sight. Zar never understood why that was, but to anyone else, Naxon’s particular heat signature wouldn’t stand out. Somehow, he’d learned to mask it. But never to Zar. All royal blood knew Naxon’s signature.

Zar could easily make out a few deer, a mother racoon and her kit, even a large black bear and two cubs were a mile away, but nothing else. A trickle of foreboding ran along the length of his spine. Something wasn’t right.

Zar turned towards Kade. “Is this the area?”

Kade frowned as he also scanned their surroundings. “Larz swears Naxon was here. He spotted him walking along the edge of the woods. Like he owned the damn place or something.” Kade cursed. “Larz saw Naxon’s black and grey wings first, then he turned in his direction and he saw the scar on the side of his face. Everyone is under strict orders not to approach Naxon, so Larz came directly to me instead.”

Larz, was Dyre’s second in command of the awe’rosa. The red guard. He was a big male with good instincts and a total dedication to keeping their people safe. Naxon’s description was dead-on. The dual-colored wings were something that only happened when a Zenarian split off from the rest of their society. Something inside them changed on a molecular level. Causing their one wing to stay the same, while the other changed to a white or grey. The same thing had happened when Queen Lyria had formed the Mordaine faction. All Mordaines were easily recognizable by their dual-colored wings.

Zar motioned for everyone to spread out, before he shot into the sky and searched the woods. Precious minutes ticked by, but Zar found nothing. He whistled low to signal the others. When they flew close, Zar said. “Something is off.”

Kade’s enormous wings flexed and contracted. “I feel it too.”

Zadoc flew close, his frown fierce when he growled, “One of us should’ve stayed behind with Callie.”

Every muscle in Zar’s body went rigid when his youngest brother voiced the very thing going through his own head. Callie was safe with Flare in most circumstances. Flare was as great a warrior as any of them. Better than many even. But Naxon was dangerous. Zar was the only Zenarian male capable of beating him in a fight. “I’m going back,” he ground out.

Kade nodded. “Dyre goes with you, my king,” he spoke in a hard, low voice that would allow no discussion on the matter. “The rest of us will continue searching.”

Dyre nodded towards Kade, then flew close to Zar. “My life for yours, my king. As Garra has willed it,” Dyre said, repeating the ancient words that all the Zenarian male guards knew so well.

Zar’s attention went back to his brothers. They all hovered near awaiting his orders. “Search,” he ordered, “but if you find him you will alert me immediately. Naxon is a master trickster as well as one of the best swordsmen I’ve ever encountered. Do not let him bait you.”

All of them nodded, except Zadoc. “Protect your Callie,” he said in his damaged voice.

Zar’s hand went to the sword at his side. His fist tightened on the hilt. “No harm will come to my ofelia,” he promised.

Zadoc nodded. “She is all that matters. Let us deal with Naxon.”

Garra, it still hurt Zar to hear Zadoc speak. His voice had once been so beautiful. His youngest brother had lost so much during the uprising. As his words registered, fear for Zadoc flooded Zar. He flew closer and clasped Zadoc on the shoulder. “Your heart is in the right place, my brother, but Naxon is dangerous. You must trust me on this.”

Zadoc glared at him, then nodded curtly. “Always, my king.”

They parted after Zar instructed Kade to alert him if they found anything. As he flew through the sky with Dyre at his side, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Something was wrong. He sensed it. His creature sensed it as well. Callie was in trouble. He only prayed he reached her in time.

****

Callie watched Flare pace the bedroom, his sword drawn. He had on body armor like Dyre earlier. It terrified her to see the intense expression on Flare’s usually gentle face. His calm demeanor was gone. Replaced by a winged alien capable of great harm. She clutched the dagger in her fist and sucked in a breath when pain shot through her. Callie looked down to see blood on her palm. “Damn it,” she muttered.

Flare turned her direction. His gaze narrowed as he stared at her hand. “You are injured,” he said, his voice calm, but still so lethal.

She shook her head. “I cut myself. It’s nothing.”

Flare went to the adjoining bathroom. A few minutes later he brought out a wet washcloth. He took the dagger from her, then began cleaning her palm. “Does it hurt?”

She winced when he swiped the cloth over the deeper part of the injury. “I should be tough here, but I’m a huge sissy when it comes to blood.” She clenched her eyes shut, refusing to look at it.

Flare’s big, warm hand clamped around her other hand and placed it over the washcloth. “Hold it there while I get a bandage.”

She opened her eyes to see him striding across the room. She wanted to stop him and tell him it would be fine, but he suddenly stopped and took hold of his sword, Callie tensed. “What’s wrong?”

---