“She died.”
Two words. Flat. Final.
The firelight in Kraath’s eyes seemed to die, leaving behind something so hollow that sympathy stuck in Zeke’s throat. This was old grief, a wound that had scarred over but never stopped bleeding.
The forest sounds, rustling creatures in the underbrush, the soft hoot of a night predator, cut off like someone had thrown a switch. Silence pressed against his ears, unnatural and wrong and they both went still. Even the wind had stilled, leaving only the faint crackle of dying embers.
Then he heard it. Movement in the undergrowth, too deliberate to be wind, too coordinated to be random wildlife. The soft brush of careful footsteps on wet leaves, and the controlled breathing of hunters trying to stay quiet.
Ferals. Lots of them. Coming for their camp.
Trall. Trall. Trall.
Kraath’s hand moved to his weapon, leather creaking softly against metal. All trace of vulnerability vanished behind the warrior’s mask.
“They must be jamming the sensor net,” he breathed, barely audible.
Trall. That was bad. Really bad.
The metallic taste of adrenaline flooded his mouth and his arms tightened around Michelle as his legion flooded his system with combat readiness. Heat raced through his veins, his body temperature spiking as the symbiont prepared for violence. The ferals were maybe fifty meters out. His hearing tracked at least a dozen distinct heartbeats, their rhythm too fast, too aggressive. Maybe more.
They’d waited for the fire to die, for their targets to fall into deep sleep.
Smart draanthic.
Michelle stirred against his chest, some part of her sensing the sudden tension in his body even in sleep. Her fingers flexed against his ribs, nails catching on the fabric of his shirt. He shook her shoulder gently.
“Wake up,” he whispered against her ear, her skin warm and soft beneath his lips. “We’ve got company.”
But there was nowhere to run. Canyon walls boxed them in, cold stone trapping them, and the ferals had spread out to cut off the only exit. The only way out was through.
Kraath nudged Raaze with his boot. The tracker’s eyes snapped open instantly, already alert. No confusion, no disorientation. Pure predator awakening.
Michelle’s eyes opened, meeting Zeke’s in the dim firelight. Fear flickered there, pupils wide in the darkness, but she didn’t panic, didn’t make a sound. Just nodded once to show she understood. Her breath was warm against his throat.
A branch snapped, closer than before. The sound echoed off the canyon walls like a gunshot. The ferals had given up stealth for speed, closing distance while they still thought they had surprise.
Wrong. Three Izaean warriors had already detected them.
Zeke’s legion pulsed with eager violence, ready for the fight. His claws itched beneath his skin, desperate to drop. But underneath that battle-readiness was a cold knot in his gut, something new since Michelle had come into his life.
It was fear.
But not fear for himself… he’d faced death too many times to count. But fear for her. For the small, stubborn, brilliant female who’d somehow become everything to him in just a few days.
Whatever happened next, he’d keep her safe, even if it meant proving Raaze right about her needing protection… even if she hated him for it.
Then the ferals burst from the treeline, eyes glowing like hot coals in the darkness.
Chapter 14
The world exploded into a nightmare of sound and motion. Michelle lurched to her knees. For half a heartbeat, the peaceful pop of the dying fire was the only familiar sound. Then her ears registered rustling in the underbrush, the scrape of claws on stone that raised every hair on her arms.
The sounds came from every direction.
Zeke was on his feet in front of her, claws fully extended. Kraath and Raaze scrambled up, weapons drawn. The comfortable weight of sleep evaporated from her limbs as adrenaline flooded her system.
“We’re surrounded,” Raaze hissed.
