The Foxling Soldati (Soldati Hearts #2)(32)

Rayner nodded.

Khalon patted his arm. “Notify the others and fetch your armor. We leave for Dell’Orso immediately.”





Chapter Eight


“YOUR TIME is up, foxling.”

Toka slowly retreated as Pavoni edged closer, stalking him, hunting him with fire and lust in his eyes. Despite his strength having returned a day ago, Toka had given his best performance, managing to delay Pavoni’s intentions for a whole day until Pavoni had lost his patience. He was intent on taking what he wanted, whether Toka was well enough or not.

“I will have you.” Pavoni’s brown eyes were almost black, and he licked his bottom lip as he adjusted himself.

Toka growled deep in his throat as he moved away. He had no intention of being taken without a fight.

Pavoni’s lewd gaze raked over Toka. “The more you struggle, the sweeter my conquest of you will be.”

“I will never stop fighting,” Toka spat out. “I will fight you until my last breath.”

“Which may come sooner than you think if you don’t get your ass over here right now!”

Toka sneered at him. “In the words of my beloved Soldati prince, fuck you.”

Pavoni released a roar as he advanced, and Toka shifted, all but the collar around his neck falling off his limbs. Unless he used his paws, he wouldn’t be able to get the blasted thing past his ears. He shifted back, ignoring the annoying little bell around his neck as it rang while he ran, ducked, and avoided Pavoni’s attempts to capture him. Pavoni might be stronger, but his larger, bulkier frame did little for swift chases, at least in his human form. Toka was smaller, quicker, and lighter on his feet. He leaped over and ducked under furniture.

“Get over here, you little pest!”

Toka snatched hold of a heavy gilded candlestick and launched it at Pavoni. It struck him on the side of the head. The man roared and lunged for him. Toka dropped and rolled, then scrambled to his feet and ran behind the chaise lounge.

“You’re going to regret that,” Pavoni bellowed. “I’m going to make you bleed!”

The door to the room burst open, but Pavoni didn’t take his gaze off Toka as he tried to gauge which direction Toka would go.

“Your Majesty!”

“Goddess above, can I not get a moment’s peace around here? What is it?”

The guard looked stricken. “Khalon King and his Soldati army are outside the gates, Your Majesty.”

“What?” Pavoni stiffened, turning to gape at the terrified guard.

Toka’s heart swelled in his chest, his happiness overflowing at the thought of Rayner. “He’s come for me.”

Pavoni spun to face him, lips curled back against sharp fangs. “I would sooner see you dead than in his arms again!”

Toka swiftly shifted and sped toward the panel Verity had used to enter the room several times. He threw his weight against it and wedged it open just enough to fit through. He had no idea where it led, but as he heard the feral roar from Pavoni’s room, he knew it was better than where he’d been. He had to find a way out to Rayner.




RAYNER STOOD beside his king, his sword in hand as Pavoni’s Orso warriors flooded out from every crevice of the mountainside like insects. A low growl rose from Rayner’s chest, and Khalon addressed him quietly.

“Steady, my friend.”

Patience. Rayner had never struggled with it until this very moment. Knowing Toka was somewhere in that monstrosity of rock and steel, at the mercy of Pavoni, caused Rayner’s blood to boil and his skin to itch. He didn’t wish to kill any Orso warrior, but if they dared stand between him and Toka, he would send every last soul to Thalna, goddess of the dead.

Khalon stepped forward, his booming voice carrying across the narrow expanse of greenery to the Orso who took position before the castle gates. “I wish to speak to General Segreti.”

A huge Orso warrior stepped forward. His armor appeared as if carved from gray stone, his helmet in the shape of a bear’s head. He had many scars on his face, one going through his left brow and disappearing behind a brown leather patch to appear once again on his cheek. The breadth of his shoulders was impressive, even without the armor. Rayner had heard stories of General Segreti. The man was a legend and until Pavoni’s reign, had been full of vigor and mirth. The years had not been good to Segreti. Or perhaps it was Pavoni. Segreti looked weary.

“Your Majesty,” Segreti replied, his deep baritone capturing everyone’s attention. He placed a fist to his heart and bowed his head. It was good to see Segreti had not lost his civility. The fact he had not commanded his army to attack the moment the Soldati arrived held great promise. Segreti had once feasted with the Soldati, been honored by Khalon’s father. “May I inquire as to the presence of your army in our kingdom?”

“I fear we have been left with little choice. The actions of your king have brought disgrace to the Orso. King Pavoni used trickery and deceit to bring false punishment upon my second and ensnare my prince’s courtier. I will not allow this injustice.”

Segreti nodded. “May I approach, Your Majesty?”

“You may.”

Segreti marched over and stopped in front of Khalon. He nodded a greeting to Rayner, then Adira, but paused when he reached Ezra. “Why is he here?”

Rayner felt Ezra stiffen beside him before Ezra spoke up. “He is here to assist his king.”