Because the alternative is too empty to consider.
Eleven days to decide.
But really, hasn't the choice already been made? My body chose. The tonic ensured that. The only question is whether my mind will accept what my flesh already knows.
That I belong here. With him.
Even if here means fighting for my life.
Even if him means an alien who makes me scream.
The night is long and empty and full of need.
But I survived the attack.
I'll survive this too.
Because that's what I do now.
Survive.
KHOR
DAY 19 - EVENING
The blood scent hits me two miles from the den. Multiple sources. Different males. And underneath it all, her scent. Mara. Alive but distressed.
I run harder.
My claws dig deeper into the volcanic glass with each stride, leaving gouges. The payment delivery took less time than expected. The Consortium checkpoint was nearly empty, their collector eager to process and leave. Bad season for everyone, apparently. Dead zones spreading. Water failing. Even the Consortium limiting their exposure to Pyraxis now.
But that's not my concern. My concern is the female I left defended only by her wits and whatever weapons she'd hidden.
The scene at the den stops me momentarily.
Green blood everywhere. Pooled, splattered, smeared in drag marks. The metallic smell so thick I can taste it. A blue-green male unconscious outside the entrance, breathing but damaged. His left side hangs wrong, paralyzed. And inside...
Inside, Vek lies curled on himself, the stench of mating frenzy and trauma thick in the air. The smell makes my spines extend fully, threat response to another male's arousal in my territory. Beyond him, pressed against the far wall with obsidianblade in hand, sits my female. Blood-splattered. Exhausted. Magnificent.
Alive.
I step over the threshold, glass crunching under my weight. “You survived.”
She looks up at me with eyes that have seen too much today. Her grip on the blade doesn't loosen. “Four came.” Her voice is hoarse, probably from screaming. “One fled immediately.” She shifts against the wall, and I see the bruises forming on her wrists. “One ran after the sulfur.” A gesture toward the destruction. “These two...”
I enter the den, careful of the blood. The secretion scent still lingers, making my secondary hearts race. I crouch beside Vek to assess damage, keeping distance from the residue. The scent tells the story. Secretion exposure. Forced mating between males. Internal destruction from anatomical incompatibility. He's dying, slowly and badly.
I stand, turn to look at my female properly. “You used the harvest vial.”
Her fingers drum against the blade handle, nervous energy. “My own vial.” She shifts, and something in her pocket clinks. More weapons. “Saved it.”
Clever female. Thinking ahead while I was focused only on the harvest itself. She learned more than I taught. My tail coils with satisfaction.
Vek's eyes open at my voice. Can barely focus. The frenzy has burned through his system, leaving only pain. His breathing is wet, labored.
“Old hunter.” The words bubble through blood in his throat. He tries to turn his head toward me but can't manage it. “Your female... she...”
I move closer, my shadow falling over him. “She survived.” My claws extend, then retract. “You failed.”
