He would make him pay.
He shook his head and focused on the screens as the comms lit up.
His finger hovered over the connection.
One press. That’s all it would take. Contact Katan, arrange extraction, leave this planet and get back to the hunt. Back to the mission he’d dedicated his life to.
Back to being on his own.
Delaney’s face flashed through his mind. That stormy expression. The way she’d tried to smile through whatever that human male had said to her. The vulnerability she hid under her smart mouth.
His hand pulled back.
One more rotation. That’s all. He could stay that long. Just to make sure she was alright. That the human male wasn’t causing problems. That she had enough firewood, food, whatever fragile humans needed to survive.
Liar,a voice in his head whispered.You just want to see her again.
He ignored it.
He climbed out of the hull, intending to head toward the front door of the dwelling. To knock like a civilized guest and explain that the repairs would take time.
Maelic was halfway back to the house when the wind shifted.
The scent hit him like a physical blow.
Salt. The acrid tang of adrenaline spiking high enough to make his nose burn. And underneath it all, a sharp, frantic distress that made his blood run cold.
Del.
He didn’t think. His body moved on pure instinct, abandoning the path and tearing toward where her scent was strongest.
The sound of machinery reached him first. A high-pitched whine cutting through the quiet forest. Then he saw her.
Delaney was hacking away at a sapling with an electric saw, surrounded by a carnage of felled trees. But these weren’t the large, developed specimens that towered deeper in the forest. These were pathetic—scrawny things barely taller than his waist, branches sparse and needles already browning.
She’d lined them up in rows like crops. Dozens of them. Maybe more.
But it was her that made him freeze.
She was breathing hard, chest heaving like she’d been running. Those ever-present dark circles under her eyes had deepenedto bruises. Sweat plastered her hair to her forehead despite the cold, mixing with—
Goddess. Were those tears?
Her hands were raw, skin torn where she’d gripped the saw too hard for too long. Blood seeped through the bandage he’d wrapped around her cut yesterday.
She looked like a ghost. Eyes hollow, movements jerky and mechanical. Dirt smeared across her face, streaked with the tracks of tears she probably didn’t even realize she was crying.
This wasn’t work. This was warfare.
She was trying to fight her way out of something, and she was losing.
Maelic moved forward. He was right behind her when he spoke.
“What in the stars are you doing, little human?”
She jumped, nearly dropping the saw. The machine’s whine cut off abruptly.
“Jesus, don’t sneak up on me like that!” She swiped an arm across her forehead, smearing more dirt. When she looked up at him, her eyes were too bright. Feverish. “I’m working. Did you get your extraction set up?”
