Hunted: The Warrior Chronicles #2 Read Free Page A

feet and crawled up her side. The urge to drift into those shadows tugged at her. If she did that, though, someone would notice. She was sure that these men already knew of her presence. To disappear suddenly would not be in keeping in character as a whore, which would raise suspicion.
    Focusing on her breathing, and remembering to swing her hips, she sauntered closer. It didn’t take long for a few of the officers to glance up from the map, taking in the various elements that marked her profession, before just as quickly going back to what they were doing. Like the sober Graygual she’d seen earlier, they paid no attention to whores if they could help it.
    Her small and silent sigh of relief was short-lived.
    As she drew closer, the Superior Officer tilted his head up purposefully and looked right at her. His gaze did a quick sweep of her from head to toe, before honing in on her breasts. A small crease worked between his brows.
    In that moment she knew—he wasn’t looking at her cleavage, he was looking at the binding containing it.
    A crawling sensation worked up her spine in warning.
    Cayan’s artisans had created that binding, working off of her instructions. Their styling had merged with hers, representing both lands; the land that birthed the violet-eyed girl, and the one who took down an Inkna settlement a few months ago. What’s more, it was made from material worth more than the rest of her outfit combined, intended for strength, durability, and comfort.
    Her binding was the only physical thing showing on her body that hinted that she might not be what she seemed. And he’d found it right away.
    A trickle of sweat ran down her temple, and the need to prepare for battle hindered the swing of her hips, straightening her walk into something too predatory for a normal woman. Something else he would surely see.
    Terror ran through her. Not knowing what else to do other than kill him with her Gift and alert the whole camp to her presence, she veered into the middle of the path and trailed her hand down her chest, boldly presenting herself to him. Her fingers worked down her stomach and over her hips, back to their exaggerated sway. She tried desperately for a sultry smile, but only conjured up a stiff grimace. It would have to do. Hopefully the amount of sex she was oozing would overshadow her features.
    The Superior Officer’s gaze flicked toward her hand. Then toward her hips. His lips thinned and his eyebrows settled low over his eyes. He glanced at the men around him, stiffening as he noticed more than one set of eyes taking his measure. Responding to their unspoken judgment, he shifted, showing Shanti his back as she passed.
    She was sure his curiosity had been piqued; a riddle had been posed. Shanti knew it was just a matter of time before he pooled all the little items about her that were out of place, and figured out who he had sharing his camp. At the very least, he’d want to ask questions.
    The sand was pouring through the hourglass.
    Barely daring to breathe, she continued on, noticing the two men standing beyond the officers dressed all in black. Sarshers , what the Inkna called their Gifted , stood guard.
    She slammed her shields home so they wouldn’t detect her Gift as she took the turn Rohnan had taken earlier. Being in that camp was suicide, and she needed to get out. Now!
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    T wo hours later Shanti found herself impatiently crouching next to the tent of a loudly snoring man. Opposite her hiding place stood Rohnan’s guarded tent. Two guards stood at the front, staring straight ahead with tired, hooded eyes. She had every reason to believe those in back were also dead on their feet.
    Their walk earlier had proved to be nothing more than a visit to the waste trench so Rohnan could evacuate his bowels. There had been one moment, shortly after she found them, that Rohnan had his hands free, his pants up, and within easy reach of a guard’s sword. Together, with minimal effort, she and Rohnan