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“Female—”
“Lyric,” she bites out.
I roll my eyes, earning an exasperated look from her. “Impossible female, have you ever been out there?”
Her gaze hardens. “No. The prison is self-sustaining for the most part. We haven’t had the need to leave just yet.”
I walk slowly to Lyric in the doorway. The buzz of Zoe’s abandoned weapon crackles in the air behind me in Willow’s grip, but I ignore it. When I reach Lyric, I bare my fangs at her. Her eyes widen.
“These double fangs are nothing compared to that of a full grown sabrevipe. They’re vicious, hungry, and ruthless.” I wiggle my clawed fingers at her. “These claws are nothing like the sharp teeth of an armworm. Did you know armworms prefer it high up?” I glower at her. “Like in the mountains.”
She swallows, a glimmer of fear dancing in her eyes.
I grip the top of the door, leaning closer to Lyric. Rather than moving away, she tilts her nog up at me, her pretty lips parting. My chest barely brushes against hers.
“There are predators out there much larger than you, female,” I warn, inhaling her sweet scent.
Her eyes dart somewhere behind me, but I’m not afraid of Willow and the worthless zap stick.
“Oh, whatever will I do out there in the wilderness?” Lyric taunts in a high-pitched voice. “Being a lowly female and all…” She snarls at me. “That’s right. I’ll survive. I’m really fucking good at that.”
With those words, she knees me.
Right in the rekking sac!
I roar in pain, falling to my rump hard, tenderly clutching my sore sac. It’s happened a few times in training—getting hit there—and it’ll knock a grown mort to his knees. I’ve even seen Breccan go down after a hit to the sac.
Willow presses the end of the zap stick to the side of my neck. It pulses with energy, slightly irritating the flesh there. “This can go to a hundred,” Willow warns. “We’re at two. Don’t test me. I really don’t want to hurt you.” She sounds just like Molly, which makes my chest pang.
Lyric sneers down at me. “We leave at daybreak. I’ll pack for us. I want no argument from you.”
“Lyric,” I try, hissing through the pain that pulsates between my thighs. “Rethink this. Let’s try reaching them from the ship.”
“You can fly it?” she challenges.
“No,” I grumble. “Not yet. I’m learning.”
“Neither can I,” she says. “And I’m not going off with two aliens. I’m not stupid.”
“You’re not smart either,” I growl. “You’re willingly setting off into treacherous areas to prove a point. That you’re the leader. That you’re the strong one.” It’s unwise to argue with a woman who looks like she wants to smash my sac some more, but I must. “I have been trained to become a leader. Learned from the very best.” Pride surges through me. Breccan is the very best. It’s why Aria chose him. Ignoring the pain, I continue. “You don’t know what’s out there.”
“Don’t underestimate my power of intuition. I’m a leader, kid, and I know how to keep myself safe. You’re still learning how to be one.”
I bristle at her words, scowling. “When I save you from a rekking beast, I’m going to say I told you so.”
She grips my hand and helps me to my feet. The warmth of her skin seems to make my skin buzz with energy. “And when I have to save you, I’m going to make you eat your words.”
Arrogance will get you sent to The Eternals. Breccan drilled that into my nog more times than I can count. Unfortunately, it’s something you have to learn on your own. I of all beings know this.
Giving her an easy grin, I flash my rogstud horns symbol and nod at her. “After you, leader.”
Her eyes narrow, but she lifts her chin in a way that reminds me of her sister. Defiant. Calculating. Strong. I just hope I can keep her safe out there.
* * *
I have a bad feeling. A sense of foreboding. Negative pulsing making its way through my bones. And it’s not because Lyric and I are leaving this solar to try to communicate with the Facility.
Something else.
I try to remember my mother, but it’s always a useless endeavor. She went to The Eternals long ago. I can’t remember her voice or her scent. I’d like to think she was something like Molly. Sweet, funny, caring. Breccan raised me as his own, and though he boils my blood sometimes because he has what I want, I love him with every part of my being.
If my mother were here—if Breccan were here—they’d feel it too. I wanted to speak with Theron to ask if he felt the same, but Lyric was in a rush at dawn to leave. Our packs are loaded down with supplies, by the east decontamination bay door, and my sub-bones vibrate with the need to pop, readying my battle stance.
