Hunted: The Warrior Chronicles #2 Read Free

herself. And now he showed it, like a prized horse among donkeys, gliding along the enemy tents with that killer’s grace. Rohnan didn’t even like to fight—he’d always said it was a necessary evil to protect his family—but he was exceptional, just like all of her people.
    Shanti blew out a soft breath, eyes focused and intense, watching the brother she’d thought she’d lost. She knew she could rush forward and kill his captors easily. They were watchful, but not ready for an attack. She’d take them unawares.
    The problem was, her deed would be found out quickly, and the enemy would be on her trail within an hour. This was an officer camp; they were the elite. They might be complacent in many ways, but at the first sign of trouble, their camp would be enraged like a hornet’s nest. She couldn’t take the chance.
    Instead, she waited as the progression moved closer. When Rohnan got within the range of his receptive Gift , his eyes widened. His gaze swung unerringly towards her. Relief and intense longing colored his mental path as moisture filled his eyes and joy lined his face. He’d missed her as much as she him.
    Revealing that would get her imprisoned right beside him, the fool!
    She glanced at his captors before letting the desire for violence fill her. She could tell that it took only a heartbeat for him to feel her intent with his Gift and remember where he was. His face smoothed over as a tear leaked from his eye. He swung his gaze forward before giving the slightest shake of his head. Not now.
    They were thinking along the same lines. She’d have to wait.
    She hated waiting.
    Slinking back in frustration, she watched her sibling walk by. When they were twenty paces ahead, she stepped out of her hiding place and adopted the sensual gait of her assumed profession once more. The progression disappeared around a bend ahead. Without needing to speed up, she sashayed along the path after them.
    As she stepped around the same bend, Rohnan’s party was disappearing around another bend up the path. In their wake stood ten men in a loose group, chatting with solemn faces. Two had rolled up papers tucked in their arms. Maps, she’d bet. Each had crisp, black uniforms with red slashes across the red circle on the upper breast. Her heart started to beat wildly when she counted one man with eight slashes!
    What in Death’s playground is a Superior Officer doing here?
    Shanti’s legs filled with fire as cold trickled down her spine. The urge to run was so great she couldn’t stop the rigidity from overcoming her body.
    A Superior Officer was a rare and coveted position, one step away from Xandre’s inner circle. There were only a handful in the whole of the land. He would be a master at weaponry of all kinds, a skilled tactician, an excellent leader of men, and held the power to direct an army of thousands. In order to advance to guarding Xandre himself, a coveted position that came with vast rewards, he’d need an act of extreme valor, or to deliver a prize of war.
    And here she was. The one person Xandre sought above all others stood fifteen small paces away, within a camp of hundreds. She was a gold coin to a beggar, and she was practically offering herself for capture.
    She could take someone in Xandre’s inner-circle—she’d proved that on a chance meeting while heading east. But she couldn’t take a Superior Officer supported by others, and if she used her Gift , the whole camp would be roused by the Inkna residing there.
    Her gaze scanned the men around him, officers all, many with four or five slashes, one with six. They were Death’s Huddle. More importantly, they would be her captors if she didn’t play this encounter perfectly.
    Forcing herself to breath evenly, she pulled her top open a little to make sure her cleavage was on full display. Without changing her pace, and trying not to wipe her sweat laden forehead, she sashayed closer with hip and breast and sweaty palms.
    Shadows licked her