The volcanic glass is sharp enough to slice air. The weight feels good in my hand. Real. Something I control in all this biological manipulation.
We leave through the back entrance, a passage I didn't know existed until now. The pre-dawn air bites with cold that will become blistering heat in two hours. Pyraxis has no middle ground. Everything is extreme.
“Stay close. Step where I step.” His voice drops to barely audible. “Vek has been circling all night. Others too. Young hunters thinking to take advantage.”
“Others?”
“Three at least. Maybe four. Can smell their eagerness. Their inexperience.” He starts walking, and I follow exactly in his footprints. “They think numbers matter. Will learn otherwise if they try.”
The landscape looks different in the grey light. Shadows could be rocks or predators. Every wind shift might carry enemy scent. My three hearts beat in rapid succession, flood of adrenaline making everything sharp.
We've been walking maybe twenty minutes when Khor stops. His hand comes up, and I freeze. There, ahead, something green against red stone. Vek, trying to look casual as he examines what appears to be nothing.
“Morning hunt going well?” Khor's voice carries across the distance.
“Just appreciating the sunrise.” Vek doesn't move from his position, blocking the obvious path through the rocks. “Traveling somewhere?”
“Crater fields. Harvest duty.”
“Dangerous journey for a mated pair. Especially with the female not bonded.” Vek's scales shift, creating patterns that probably mean something in their language of display. “Could offer protection. For a price.”
Khor laughs. The sound is like rocks grinding. “Young hunter wants to protect? Cannot even protect yourself from female throwing stones.”
The reference to my rock-throwing makes Vek's scales flare. Good. Angry means stupid.
“She seems less violent this morning. Tired maybe? All that breeding must be exhausting.” He finally moves, just enough to technically not block our path while still being in the way. “Or maybe she's realizing she has options.”
“Move or be moved.”
“Is that a challenge? Here? Now?” Vek's throat swells slightly. Some kind of threat display. “The female would go to whoever wins. Ancient law.”
“Ancient law requires formal challenge in neutral territory. This is still mine. You stand here by my tolerance, nothing more.”
They stare at each other. Alien posturing I don't fully understand but feel in my bones. The blade in my hand warms from my grip.
Then, from the rocks to our left, another male appears. Yellow-scaled, smaller than both Khor and Vek. Then another to the right, this one brown with gold markings. They're surrounding us. Or trying to.
“Brought friends?” Khor sounds amused rather than concerned.
“Witnesses,” Vek corrects. “To make sure everything follows law when I claim her.”
The yellow male speaks up. “Female looks fertile. Worth the risk.”
“Can smell her from here,” adds the brown one. “Ripe. Ready.”
My skin crawls at being discussed like fruit at a market. The tonic makes sure I'm always “ripe,” always “ready” for any male's use. But my mind stays mine, and right now it's calculating angles, distances, which one to cut first if this goes bad.
Khor shifts his weight slightly. Such a small movement, but all three younger males step back. “We are going to the crater fields. You will move. Now.”
“And if we don't?” Vek tries to sound confident.
“Then the female gets to practice her violence on someone besides me.”
That makes them all look at me. Really look. Not at my body or my breeding potential, but at the blade in my hand and the way I hold it like I know which end cuts.
“You wouldn't let her...”
“Let?” Khor's tail sweeps the ground, sending up dust. “I do not 'let' her do anything. She chooses her violence. I simply enjoy watching.”
