Chapter 154
"There is nothing that you can do to make me talk," the man they managed to capture said. Dron had to strain to understand the man’s voice. He was talking in a language Dron could understand, but his syntax was off. All of his words had a strange twinge, a long sss sound.
"I wouldn’t be so sure of that if I were you." Kraznek leaned forward and grabbed the man’s hair.
The group of them managed to drag the captive into a small shelter they’d found tucked between two large rock formations. It wasn’t much, barely more than three walls and a roof, but it gave them enough cover that they wouldn’t be seen from above. More importantly, it gave them somewhere to question the man without worrying that one of his people would hear him screaming if things got to that point.
Dron hoped they wouldn’t.
Not because he cared about the man’s comfort. After everything that had happened since they entered Skoq, Dron’s patience was wearing dangerously thin. He was tired, frustrated and every minute that passed was another minute away from Tempest. The strange feelings he’d been having earlier hadn’t completely gone away either. There was still something pulling at him. Something deep inside his chest that told him his mate needed him.
He needed answers so he could finish this mission and get back to her.
"What clan are you from?" Dron asked.
The man stared at him.
Dron waited.
Nothing.
"Who sent you?"
Still nothing.
"Were you responsible for what happened in the poor class?"
The man’s expression didn’t change.
Kraznek tightened his grip on the captive’s hair and pulled his head back. "You heard the mark chief."
"I heard him."
"Then answer."
"No."
Kraznek looked toward Dron.
There was a question in his expression. Dron knew exactly what he was asking. How far did he want to take this?
Dron crossed his arms over his chest and studied the man. He didn’t want useless violence. He’d seen enough of that throughout his life to know that hurting someone simply because you could wasn’t the same thing as getting information from them. The man sitting in front of them had already decided he was willing to suffer.
Pain wouldn’t necessarily make him talk.
Fear might.
Information certainly would.
"You’re protecting people who abandoned you," Dron said.
The captive’s eyes narrowed slightly.
There.
The first reaction.
Dron stepped closer.
"Your people ran."
"They will return."
"Maybe."
"They will."
"Then why haven’t they?"
The captive’s jaw tightened.
Dron felt something inside himself settle. This was different from battle. Different from fighting in the arena or protecting Tempest from someone trying to hurt her. He wasn’t relying on his strength now. He was watching. Thinking.
Leading.
His men had gone quiet behind him.
They were waiting to see what he would do.
Dron moved closer until he stood directly in front of the captive.
"You were left behind while the rest of your clan escaped. Either they didn’t think you were important enough to retrieve or they decided whatever information you possess isn’t important enough to protect."
"You know nothing about my people."
"Then tell me."
Silence.
Dron nodded.
"Fine. We’ll start with what I already know."
The captive’s eyes followed him.
Dron started pacing slowly across the small space.
"I know the attack in the poor class wasn’t random. I know someone wanted those people frightened. I know someone wanted them to stop believing their circumstances could change. I also know the high royals sent me here under the guise of discovering who was responsible."
The captive shifted.
It was slight.
Barely noticeable.
Dron noticed.
So did Kraznek.
Dron stopped pacing.
"That interested you."
"I don’t know what you mean."
"You moved."
"I’m tied to a chair."
"You moved when I mentioned the high royals."
The captive looked away.
Dron’s heart started beating faster.
They were getting somewhere.
"Did the high royals hire your clan?"
Nothing.
Kraznek moved forward again, but Dron raised his hand.
"No."
Kraznek reluctantly stepped back.
Dron crouched in front of the man.
"Look at me."
The captive didn’t.
Dron waited.
Eventually, the man’s gaze returned to him.
"I don’t care about punishing your clan. I don’t care about whatever crimes you’ve committed in Skoq. I was sent here to find out who was responsible for what happened to those people in the poor class. That is what I intend to do."
"You think the truth will save you?"
Dron’s stomach tightened.
"What does that mean?"
The man smiled.
It was the first time he’d done so.
"You really don’t know."
"Know what?"
The man looked around at the soldiers surrounding him before settling his attention back on Dron.
"You think you were sent here to investigate."
"That’s exactly why I was sent here."
"No. That is what you were told."
Dron straightened.
Kraznek looked at him.
Dron could feel the attention of every man in the room shifting.
"What was I sent here to do?"
The captive hesitated.
Dron waited.
For once, no one interrupted.
The strange man looked down at his bound hands. His breathing changed. He didn’t look defiant anymore. He looked as if he were trying to decide whether whatever loyalty he possessed was worth dying for.
"We were contracted."
"By whom?"
Silence again.
Dron’s frustration returned.
"By whom?"
The captive closed his eyes.
"The high royals of Thraqe."
No one moved.
Dron wasn’t surprised.
Not completely.
He had suspected the high royals were involved from the beginning, but suspecting something and hearing someone admit it were two completely different things.
"You’re lying," one of Dron’s men said from behind him.
The captive looked toward the soldier.
"I have no reason to lie now."
"You have every reason to lie."
"They never gave us their names," the captive continued. "They tried to remain hidden. Payments were transferred through others. Orders came through intermediaries. No royal ever stepped into Skoq and announced themselves."
"Then how do you know it was them?" Dron asked.
The man smiled again, but there was nothing amused about it.
"Because people who believe themselves smarter than everyone else often make mistakes."
Dron stepped closer.
"What mistake?"
"The payment."
The captive leaned back as much as his restraints allowed.
"Credits can be moved through a thousand hands, but their origins remain. Our leaders traced them. The first transfer came from accounts controlled by the royal houses."
Kraznek cursed under his breath.
Dron’s thoughts raced.
This was proof.
Maybe not enough to stand in front of the entire Thraqen population and accuse the high royals of treason against their own people, but it was something.
"Why?" Dron demanded. "Why would they pay you to attack their own people?"
The captive looked confused.
"We didn’t."
Dron stilled.
"What?"
"We had nothing to do with the poor class."
"Then what were you contracted to do?"
The man hesitated again.
Dron’s patience finally broke.
He slammed his hand against the wall beside the captive’s head. The entire structure shook.
"Enough! People are dead. Children are dead. My mate was nearly killed. I have been dragged across Skoq chasing answers while every person I meet seems determined to give me half-truths and riddles. Tell me what you know!"
The captive stared at him.
Dron’s chest rose and fell.
For a moment he wondered if he’d gone too far.
Then the man spoke.
"They want the clans gone."
Dron frowned.
"What clans?"
"All of us."
The captive looked toward the entrance of the shelter.
"Skoq is divided because that is how we survive. Different clans control different territories. Some are peaceful. Some are not. Some trade with one another while others fight over resources. The high royals don’t care which is which. They want all of us removed."
"Removed where?"
The man stared at him.
Dron understood before he answered.
"They don’t care."
A sick feeling formed in Dron’s stomach.
"Why?"
The captive hesitated.
This time when he spoke, his voice was lower.
"The humans."
Dron stopped breathing.
Kraznek stepped forward.
"What humans?"
"The ones already here."
Dron’s heart slammed against his ribs.
He remembered the rumors.
The human settlement.
The reason he’d once gone to Gerax desperately trying to find out whether the stories about humans living in the Forbidden Lands could possibly be true.
"What about them?"
"They survived."
Dron didn’t understand.
"Of course they survived."
"No." The captive shook his head. "You don’t understand. They survived Skoq. They reproduced here. They adapted. They created settlements without Thraqen assistance."
Dron stared at him.
The captive continued.
"The high royals have been searching for a solution to your population problem for generations. Omegas are scarce. Births are failing. Your people are dying."
Every muscle in Dron’s body tightened.
He didn’t like where this was going.
"The humans changed that."
Dron’s mouth went dry.
"What are you saying?"
"The high royals learned humans could survive here. More importantly, they learned human females could carry children under conditions Thraqen omegas could not."
"No."
The word escaped Dron before he could stop it.
The captive tilted his head.
"They want the land."
"For what?"
"You already know."
Dron did.
He simply didn’t want to say it.
One of his soldiers did.
"A settlement."
The captive nodded.
"At first."
Dron’s stomach turned.
"At first?"
"They need somewhere outside the restrictions of Thraqe. Somewhere the population won’t see what is happening. Somewhere experiments can be conducted without questions."
Experiments.
Dron thought of Tempest.
His beautiful Tempest waking up on this planet surrounded by people who saw her as something different. Something precious.
Something useful.
His claws started extending from his fingertips.
"What experiments?"
"Breeding."
Dron lunged.
Kraznek caught him around the chest before he could reach the captive.
"Mark chief!"
"Say that again!"
The captive didn’t flinch.
"Breeding."
Dron roared.
It took Kraznek and another soldier to hold him back.
"They want a birthing settlement," the captive continued. "A controlled human population. Females brought in for reproduction. Alphas paired with them. Pregnancies monitored. Children studied."
Dron stopped fighting.
Not because he was calm.
Because he was horrified.
Tempest had been brought to Thraqe because she was human.
They’d treated her like a prize from the moment she arrived. Every royal wanted to know about her. Every alpha wanted access to her. Everyone spoke about what her existence might mean for their dying population.
He’d thought their interest ended with her being an omega.
He had been wrong.
"What happens to the clans?" Kraznek asked.
The captive shrugged.
"We leave."
"And if you don’t?"
"We die."
The room went silent.
Dron slowly pulled away from his men.
This was bigger than the poor class.
Bigger than him.
Bigger than Tempest.
The high royals weren’t trying to solve one problem.
They were rearranging entire populations.
The poor class had begun questioning their place.
Skoq stood on land the royals wanted.
Humans represented a solution to their population crisis.
And Dron had been sent directly into the middle of it.
Maybe he wasn’t supposed to solve anything.
Maybe he was supposed to help clear the way.
His stomach twisted.
"How long?" Dron asked.
The captive looked at him.
"How long have the high royals been planning this?"
"I don’t know."
"Guess."
"Years."
Dron closed his eyes.
Years.
Tempest hadn’t even been here that long.
Which meant her arrival wasn’t the beginning.
It was another step.
Dron turned away from the captive.
His men immediately started talking among themselves, but he barely heard them.
He needed Tempest.
Not simply because he missed her.
Because she needed to know.
If the high royals were planning to bring humans to Skoq and use them for reproduction, Tempest might know something important without realizing it. Something they’d said to her. Something she’d seen.
More importantly, she was in danger.
If they knew how important she was to Dron, they could use her against him.
His wrist device vibrated.
Dron ignored it.
He needed to think.
It vibrated again.
"Mark chief," Kraznek said.
"Not now."
"Dron."
Something in the soldier’s voice made him look down.
The screen on his wrist was glowing.
Dron frowned.
He hadn’t received a successful communication since entering Skoq.
His heart stopped.
There was a name displayed across the screen.
For a moment Dron could do nothing but stare at it.
Then every thought in his mind disappeared.
Every question.
Every revelation.
Every fear.
There was only one thing left.
Tempest.
His mate was calling him.
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⏸ PAUSE■ STOP