Check out my books on Kindle.
Being the head of an investigation is much easier when you know who committed the crime. However, it got a bit more complicated when you are the culprit. The irony was not lost on the Tracker. He was tasked with finding the traitor, and he was going to give Tarthis one. Initially he was thinking of framing Garth, but that idiot was too useful to him to throw away just yet. Rike being the traitor was unbelievable, especially with his mother's freedom on the line. Sala didn't have the means to betray the Empire, well, betray them anymore than she already had in any case. But one of Garth's lieutenants… they would make the perfect target. It didn't take the Tracker long to plant the evidence of Lieutenant Sten's treachery. Messages hidden in secret compartments, extra crowns lining Sten's pockets, a drawing of a relative supposedly killed by the Empire. By the end, the Tracker almost had himself believing Sten was the traitor. He did not require the "help" that Sala and her Sisters promised to provide, and that was for the best.
When Rike arrived at the camp, all it took was a small push in the right direction for him to find some of Sten's compromising evidence. Within the hour, he was shackled and sent to the Southland mines. Where he would be worked to the bone. Easy. With that, most of his loose ends had been tied up. The Tracker decided to check on Rike and Aurra after the whole ordeal unfolded to make sure there wasn't any lingering suspicions.
The Tracker had always admired Aurra's ability to adapt and take control of any situation, before her fall from grace, the Tracker had worked with Aurra closely. As he lifted the flap of her command tent, he expected to find her in full battle regalia, strategizing for the upcoming assault on the Dread Tower. Instead, he was greeted by a sight that would have made the least pious blush. There, in the dimly lit tent, sat Aurra, her body moving rhythmically atop her son's lap. Rike's helmet was off and his eyes closed in a mixture of pleasure and something akin to pain. His cock was sliding between Aurra's thighs and pussy, their bodies joined in an act of taboo passion. Aurra's fingers were tangled in Rike's hair, pulling just hard enough to elicit a growl of approval from deep within his chest. Her ample breasts were barely contained by the thin fabric of her shirt, the peaks visible through the nearly transparent material.
The Tracker stood there for a moment, observing the forbidden spectacle before him. Aurra had been quite chaste when he had last met her, it seems that her time as a Brute Legion pleasure slave had changed her. It was not unusual for brutes to be somewhat incestuous, they barely shared any of their mother's heritage and mostly bred by a sort of reverse parthenogenesis with the mother merely acting as a vessel to bare children.
Aurra opened her eyes, locking gazes with the Tracker. There was no shame, no sense of guilt or regret in her gaze. Instead, there was a challenge, a silent dare for him to judge her for her actions. But the Tracker was not one to cast stones, especially when he had his own secrets to hide. He simply nodded in acknowledgment, his expression unreadable. Rike, finally realizing they were no longer alone, tensed beneath his mother. There was a feral quality to his gaze, a raw need that he had not seen in the chivalrous brute's eyes.
The Tracker cleared his throat, breaking the tense silence that had settled over the tent. "I see you've found a unique way to celebrate your return to the Inquisition," he said, his voice steady despite the unexpected display he had just witnessed.
Aurra smirked, her pace never faltering as she continued to ride her son. "We all have our ways of relieving stress, Tracker. Surely you, of all people, can understand that."
The Tracker allowed himself a small smile. "Indeed. I simply came to discuss our next move. I trust you've been briefed on the situation with Sten?"
Rike grunted in affirmation, his hands gripping his mother's hips tightly as he thrust upwards to meet her downward movements. "The traitor is being dealt with. My men are rounding any other suspected conspirators as we speak." ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝⁂𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖⁂𝕟𝕖𝕥
"Good," the Tracker replied. "We need to present a united front as we move against the Dread Tower. The last thing we need is to be undermined from within."
Aurra leaned down, her lips brushing against Rike's ear as she whispered something that the Tracker couldn't quite make out. Whatever it was, it caused Rike to buck his hips wildly.
The Tracker took that as his cue to leave. He had seen enough and had other matters to attend to. "I'll leave you to it, then. We'll reconvene once you've finished here," he said, turning on his heel and exiting the tent before things could get any more intimate.
As he stepped back into the cool night air, the Tracker couldn't help but feel a grudging respect for Aurra. She was a woman who knew what she wanted and wasn't afraid to take it, even if it meant crossing lines that others wouldn't dare to touch. It was a quality that he admired, one that he shared in many ways. After all, they were both playing a dangerous game, and only time would tell who would emerge victorious.