Merricks Book - The 12 Sectors - Redeeming Her Alpha (authors rough cut)

Chapter 41

Zinn

SLEEP RIDING

Zinn fell into a dazed, not-awake state she couldn't climb up from. Every time her head tipped forward she heard the rasping saw of her own snoring, but she just couldn't seem to wake up. Her world was reduced to Mer, Gemma, the fuzzy, hovering presence of the other males, and Hoss's bumpy, plodding gate.

Time passed. For all Zinn knew, it was a month. At least. Her ass was horse-shaped now. If they survived this ordeal, the mare's walk-hump-run would be woven into every one of her muscles, molded into each spoke of her back and neck, and trapped in her arms for the rest of her life. Frozen there by the nasty attitude of the Un's evil weather.

The storm went on forever and ever with just enough pauses in pelting rain so that it could check its off-beat rhythm with the clomp, clomp, clomp of the horses. An endless loop of repetition. Added to that, Zinn had bitten her tongue while nodding off. Repeatedly. They were here and here was stupid. Zinn wanted to go back to the familiar comfort of the woods. This new place was ugly. Hostile. It exposed her to the great accusing eye of the angry slobbering sky. She hoped that better lay ahead. Soon. Let it be soon.

She wasn't made for horseback and travel.

They rode more, until Zinn felt a shift in the air, but couldn't open her eyes to examine what was happening. She'd spent enough time in an underground cave to know they'd finally entered the cold, dark chill of a similar place. There must have been stone walls and metal all around them, under them; she could smell it, with the addition of something acidic and bitter.

Or else she was dreaming of being back in the warren. Using whatever they could for fuel, including garbage. Sometimes old pieces of a man-made things would end up in the fire. They always burned with fumes, the entire common room would filling up with brackish, dark smoke, until Zinn's eyes watered and her nose burned. She smelled that here, faint. As if it had happened a long time ago.

We need to go back.

She said it, but no one paid her any attention. Or maybe she was still in that not-awake, not-asleep place. She lifted her head and tried to open her eyes. She heard Mer purring, and the wonderful, warm sound made her forget what she'd wanted to do—until the smell of a good fire, smoky in the damp room, broke through her heavy fatigue.

There was shifting. The heat left her back.

Mer moved, and she screamed before she thought better of it. Was he all right? Had he fallen? Where was Gemma? The dark sucked up her screech like it was nothing. Like she was just another bug making its way across the slimy wet surface of the night.

"Zinn. Still, now. Easy. Still," Mer commanded. The words were gentle, but still a command.

Her will melted away when she heard his purr. He'd been doing that during their ride, for both her and Gemma, but she'd been so wrapped up in the thick of her exhaustion that she hadn't gotten to enjoy it. Her alpha was tired, too, but determined. Now that she was more aware, Mer's feelings slipped through the bond between them. He held a deep fear and banked fury somewhere in the depths of his gut. She blinked, following him with her eyes. What was wrong?

He moved away, and someone else helped her down off the horse. Kinnery. Zinn hissed at him.

"Stop it, Zinn. You know you can't get down yourself," Petar said in his baby alpha voice.

"Don't need help from the wrong alpha," Zinn grumped in a raspy voice as Kinnery set her on her feet. He wore his breather and a set of goggles, and left damp spots everywhere he touched her.