“I hate that you're right.”
“No. You hate that your mind and body disagree. But here's secret: they don't.” He pulls me onto his lap, my back to his chest. “Your mind chose to enter portal. Chose to save sister. Body just makes that choice bearable.”
The position lets him go deep, deeper than usual. I can feel him at my cervix, that pressure that's almost pain but transforms into something else.
“The stone formations are cracking wrong.” His voice is conversational despite being buried inside me. “Have you noticed?”
“Hard to... fuck... hard to notice anything with you inside me.”
“Try. Important to see.” He rocks up, hitting something that makes lights explode behind my eyes. “The cracks follow patterns. Like something underneath is pushing up. Or pulling down.”
Another thrust, another explosion of sensation. But he's right. I saw it earlier. Cracks that spiral. That follow mathematical patterns instead of random breaks.
“Started same time as water disappearing. Connected symptoms.” He speeds up, his knot beginning to swell. “Planet is sick. Maybe dying.”
“Why... why tell me this now?”
“Because when you're full of me, defenses drop. Truth easier to hear.” The knot catches, locks. “The Consortium knows. Keeps taking payment anyway. Maybe taking payment is why planet fails.”
I come around his knot, clenching so hard it hurts. He follows, flooding me with heat that makes the cave's temperature seem cold. We're locked, listening to things howl outside. Not Skarrathi. Something else. The Sketh-kar Gresh mentioned, singing their mating madness.
“Vek is close.” I can smell him even over our sex scents. “Twenty feet maybe.”
“Let him watch. Let him see you claimed and filled.” Khor's teeth graze my neck. “Tomorrow is dangerous. If something happens...”
“You'll be fine.”
“If something happens,” he continues, “run for the ridge we passed. The one with three peaks. Can defend there until another hunter comes.”
“I don't want another hunter.”
“Want doesn't matter if I'm dead.”
His knot pulses, releasing more seed. We stay locked as full dark falls. The cave provides shelter but not safety. Outside, Vek waits. The Sketh-kar sing. The planet cracks wrong.
Inside, I'm full of an alien who bought me, breeds me, and might die tomorrow trying to pay for the privilege. My pack holds weapons that might save me or doom me. My body carries his seed that might be taking root.
Twenty-two days until the portal.
Twenty-two days to pretend any of us survive this intact.
The stone beneath us cracks. A perfect spiral, like something calculated it.
Khor is right. The planet is dying.
Maybe we all are.
MARA
DAY 10 - VOLCANIC CRATER REGION
Two days of volcanic hell brought us here. Two days of Vek's group trailing us like scavengers, keeping their distance since the yellow one nearly died from volcanic pearl gas. Two days of my feet leaving bloody prints on obsidian glass while the Sketh-kar singing grew louder each night.
Now we stand at the crater's edge, and I understand why hunters die here.
The crater spans maybe a mile across, its walls dropping in terraced levels toward a center that glows with heat distortion. The air tastes like copper and sulfur, thick enough to chew. But it's the bones that make my stomach turn. Thousands of them. Different species, different sizes, all picked clean and scattered like offerings.
The Sketh-kar did this.
