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He stood there for a long, agonising moment, his massive chest heaving beneath the bolted iron hull-plating. Up close, his stench was overpowering: a sickening mixture of rancid grease, charred flesh, and the metallic burn of old plasma fire. He slowly slid the massive skymetal executioner’s blade from his shoulder, letting the tip slam into the stone floor with a heavy, echoing thud that made my teeth rattle.

"So," he rumbled, his voice a deep, vibrating tremor that felt like a grinding tectonic plate. "The alpha’s little human pet. I am Geth, High Scavenger of the Deep Crust. And you, star-meat, are the end of the Oru-ka."

"If you think... if you think Kaelen is just going to let you keep me," I gasped, forcing myself to hold his piercing red gaze despite the terror clawing at my throat, "you're fucking insane. He will rip this place apart."

Geth let out a wet, guttural laugh that bared his exposed jaw and yellowed teeth. "Let him come. Let the Huntmaster bring his pretty warriors down into the dirt. We have spent generations waiting for the trees to burn."

"Brother," the female Vakra stepped forward, her fluid, feline grace turning sharp and impatient. Her red eyes flashed with venom as she glared down at me. "Why waste breath speaking to a parasite? Throw her into the lower pits with the cattle. Let the rot-beetles strip the flesh from her bones, or let the warriors have their turn. She is nothing but meat."

Geth’s head snapped toward her with terrifying speed. "Silence, Sila!" he roared, a sharp, deafening click erupting from his throat.

The female—his sister—instantly flinched, her hands lifting in a defensive posture as she took a hasty step back. Geth glared at her, his red eyes burning. "You see nothing but grease and bone, sister. Your mind is as shallow as the topsoil. I have something much bigger planned for this little human. She has so much more to offer us than her delicate, malleable body."

He slowly leaned down, his massive, scarred face descending until it was inches from mine. A thick, calloused finger, tracked with dried blood, trailed down the side of my neck, his rough skin scraping against my flesh. I shivered and tried to pull away, but he caught my chin, forcing me still. He leaned in and delivered a slow, repulsive lick across my cheek, his wet, rough tongue leaving a slick trail of saliva.

"She is the key," Geth murmured, snickering as he pulled back, his red eyes dancing with a manic, tyrannical brilliance.

My breath caught in my throat. My heart stopped. The key?

A cold dread swept through me, leaving me utterly taken aback. The only thing I knew about a key was tied to those fragmented, haunting dreams of the Ancients that plagued my sleep—shadowy echoes of a past I couldn't fully grasp. I had no real answers, only an endless mountain of questions. How could he possibly know about that? What did the Vakra have to do with the dreams, and how could a savage underground scavenger claim that I was the piece they were looking for?

"How do you..." I whispered, my voice cracking under the weight of a dozen racing thoughts. "How do you know about that?"

Geth didn't answer me. He merely chuckled, turning his massive torso toward the back of the line. His gaze landed on the lanky, trembling silhouette hiding in the shadows of the warriors.

"And you," Geth rumbled, his tone turning into a dark, patronising purr. "Skraal-vark-thun. You have done well, fledgling. You brought the prize directly to our feet. The clan will remember this."

Sky—Skraal—didn't move. He didn't lift his head or respond. He just stood there, his long, youthful arms wrapped around his torso, a hollow, broken expression on his pale grey face. His silence was a direct insult to the High Scavenger.

"Insolent rat!" Sila hissed, seizing the opportunity to vent her rage. She lunged past her brother and delivered a brutal, heavy-handed slap across Sky’s face.

The force of the blow sent the boy crashing violently into the stone floor, his lanky limbs sprawling across the dirt as a soft, pathetic whimper escaped his throat.

"Leave him alone!" I screamed, my restraint snapping as I violently thrashed against the bindings on my wrists, trying to surge forward toward the sister. "He’s just a boy! Leave him the fuck alone!"

"Keep your mouth shut, human!" Geth bellowed.

Before I could even register his movement, a massive, heavy weight whipped through the air. Geth’s tail—thick, armoured with metal rivets, and entirely devoid of the soft, comforting warmth of Kaelen’s—slammed into my torso. It wrapped around my ribs and coiled tightly up around my neck, constricting instantly.

I gasped, the air cut off in an instant as he lifted me inches off the ground using only the muscle of his tail. My hands clawed uselessly at the cold, leathery appendage crushing my throat.

Seeing me pinned, a large, brutish raider in the front row perked up, his muddy amber eyes gleaming with a disgusting hunger. "Master," the warrior clicked, stepping forward. "If she is to be kept alive... can we play with her first? Just a little? The males are hungry."

Geth turned his head and let out a low, predatory growl that made the entire front line step back in terror. "I will do what needs to be done with her first," the leader hissed, his tail tightening just a fraction more around my throat, making my vision begin to blur into dark, swimming spots. "Then, if there is anything left of her... you are welcome to the scraps."

Through the suffocating pressure, through the absolute terror and the blackness encroaching on the edges of my mind, I forced my eyes open. I glared at the massive, scarred face of the monster holding my life in his hands.

"Fuck... you..." I choked out, the words a dying, defiant whisper against his tail.

Geth snickered, his red eyes the last thing I saw before the strength left my limbs and my head fell back.

The tail uncoiled, letting my body drop like a stone into the dirt. As my consciousness rapidly slipped away, sinking into a dark, bottomless void, a cold, slender figure leaned over me. Sila’s sharp features filled my fading sight, her red eyes burning with a jealous, psychotic malice as she pressed her lips right against my ear.

"Sleep well, star-meat," she whispered, her voice a conniving, cruel hiss that echoed in my mind right before the blackness swallowed me whole. "Because when my brother is done with you, I am going to peel that pretty skin right off your face."

Chapter 58

Lyra