They try everything.
Water sources fouled worse than before. Not just waste now but something that makes the water smell like death. We're down to our last stores.
Snares set on the paths around the den. Amateur work, easy to spot, but meant to exhaust us with constant vigilance.
And the taunting never stops. Descriptions of what they'll do when they claim me. How they'll share me. How they'll make me forget Khor's touch.
“Let them talk,” Khor says, but his control is hanging by threads.
He marks territory again, but this time it's different. Desperate. He breeds me on every surface near the den, sometimes not even coming, just making sure our scents are mixed everywhere. Making sure anyone who enters will know I've been claimed hundreds of times.
By evening, we're both exhausted. Dehydrated. Pushed to limits by the constant threat and the heat and the provocations.
“I could just take the bond bite,” I say. “End all of this.”
“No.” His response is immediate. “Not like this. Not because of them. When you take bond, it's your choice. Not forced by children playing at being hunters.”
Day 19 - Morning
He wakes me before dawn.
“Time to go.”
The payment vials are secured in his pack. The journey to the checkpoint will take most of the day. He'll be gone until tomorrow at least.
“They're watching,” I say.
“Yes. Waiting for me to leave.” He checks my weapons, making sure I can reach everything. “Remember what I taught you.”
“Use their assumptions against them.”
“And?”
“Survive. Whatever it takes.”
He kisses me. We don't usually kiss, mouths not quite compatible, but he tries. It tastes like goodbye and promise and alien spice.
“When I return, if you're gone...” He doesn't finish.
“I won't be gone.”
“If you are. I'll find you. Wherever they take you. However long it requires.”
Then he's leaving, taking the main path, not trying to hide. Let them see. Let them know the countdown has started.
I watch from the den entrance as his crimson form disappears into the morning heat shimmer. Behind me, I hear movement. Scales on stone. Multiple bodies shifting position.
They're coming.
I go back inside the den. Check my weapons one more time. The paralytic spines. The sulfur crystals. The obsidian blades. The blood sand. And the special one, the secretion vial that will turn their own biology against them.
Four young hunters think they're about to claim easy prey. They're about to learn why human females survived Earth long enough to be worth trading.
Outside, footsteps approach. Multiple sets. No more hiding.
“Female,” Vek's voice carries through the entrance. “The old hunter is gone.”
I take a breath. Feel the weight of weapons hidden on my body. Think of Khor's lessons about survival.
