"Me. Which is why you should have stayed on Pryt," Behtu snarls, his glacial irises now the fierce blaze of white I’ve come to know is his sivot. "It’s too dangerous for you out here.”
“Well, maybe you should stop pissing people off and you wouldn’t have to worry about being first on everyone’s shit list,” I volley back.
Behtu shoots me a glare and growls, “Well, maybe if you weren’t so bliking distracting, I wouldn’t be caught so off-guard.”
The ship lurches violently as the light beam encasing our ship grows brighter. “Hold on!” Behtu's hands dance across the console, deploying countermeasures. “I’m going to try and pull free of the energy depletion ray.”
I can feel the thrumming power of the engines straining against the assault. Behtu snarls, a sound so primal I can almost see the sivot, coiled and ready beneath his glossy, blue skin, a force of nature waiting to be unleashed.
The stars outside become streaks of light as Behtu wrenches the ship away from the light that holds us captive. The ship responds with a surge of acceleration that presses us into our seats. Time stretches thin, reality blurs, but we’re hit from behind with another hard blast, punctuating the urgency of our plight.
And then?—
Darkness swallows us whole.
Chapter
Six
BEHTU
Consciousness claws through the fog of the concussion beam the Grymloks blasted at my ship. The cold metal floor beneath me offers no solace as I blink into awareness, my body heavy and unresponsive. The air is thick with the scent of ozone and something ghastly familiar— the stink of Grymloks, heavily muscled, leathery-hided idiots with sharp claws and jagged teeth set in a deformed face only a mother could love.
My head throbs as I blink hard, fighting the disorientation that clutches at my senses. My vision clears, and the sight that greets me incites a surge of fury.
"Behtu!" Her voice, laced with pain and desperation, cuts through the fog of my mind.
I push myself up from the floor, fighting back a wave of dizziness as my muscles protest. Inside a cargo hold that isn’t mine, Grymlok minions circle me, their grotesque features twisted in mockery, eyes gleaming like amber shardsset into their grotesque faces. They think they have me at a disadvantage, but they don't know who they're dealing with.
"Jules," I growl, voice raw with emotion I'm unaccustomed to displaying. She's ensnared in energy bonds, her lithe body writhing against constraints designed to subdue even the mightiest of species. Still wrapped in the sheet she stripped from my bed, her dark hair is a wild halo around her head.
Verdant eyes fix on me, wide and pleading, yet brimming with an unspoken trust that acts as a catalyst to my rage. Behind the fear flickers the fire that fuels her spirit still burning fiercely despite her captivity. It's this fire, this untamed defiance, that makes her so irresistible.
The Grymloks chuckle, a guttural sound that grates on my nerves. Anger simmers beneath my skin, a tempest ready to be unleashed, yet it isn’t my sivot’s protective instincts that stir. My beast is silent and still as if he slumbers.
Bliking sivot!First Vont 4 and now here.I don’t have time for these games. The beast’s sole purpose is to protect Jules, yet where he is now? Enjoying a nap!
The single tear that rolls down her cheek is a beacon amid the chaos raging inside my mind, a siren’s call that unleashes the storm within me.
I launch myself at the nearest Grymlok minion, my movements precise and lethal. There's no room for hesitation or waiting on my sivot to emerge, these creatures are but obstacles in the path to free my female, and I am the unstoppable force. My arm swings through the air, a deadly arc that meets a scaly throat with a satisfying thud. The first minion crumples at my feet, a silent scream etched on its monstrous face.
The second rounds on me, claws extended, but it’s too slow, too clumsy. I sidestep its lunge, my body moving with practiced ease born of countless skirmishes. With a swift pivot, I drive my fist to the center of its face, feeling cartilage give way beneaththe force of my strike. It gurgles, falls, but I don't look back as I prepare to take on a third opponent.
"Enough!" The voice that rumbles through the cargo hold is thick with authority and malice. Warlord Zarnak steps into the dim light, his towering form casting long shadows across the metal floor. Intricate tribal markings adorn his leathery body as symbols of his status and achievements.
"Your little display is quaint, Behtu Ky'Orlax," he sneers, the amber glow of his eyes like twin suns in the gloom. In his hand, he holds a device, small and innocuous, yet I know its purpose all too well.
Jules' breath hitches as Warlord Zarnak approaches her, the threat clear and present, stills her struggles. The collar around her throat, a wicked piece of technology capable of explosive decimation.
"Take one more step, and I will activate the detonator,” Warlord Zarnak threatens, his clawed finger hovering over the button. "Just one touch and your bondmate's head will be reduced to stardust."
My pulse roars in my ears, drowning out all other sounds. It's a standoff, one false move and Jules pays the price. My hands clench into fists at my sides, the need to protect her warring with the undeniable reality of our situation.
"Let her go, Grymlok scum," I growl.
"Just as soon as you return what you’ve stolen from my people,” he replies, the smile that curls his thin lips is devoid of any humor. “Return the holy relic. Give me back the Zorite Statue. You need it not, its significance to my people transcends your comprehension."
A surge of primal fury courses through my veins, a call to my beast within. The sivot stirs, but something's wrong. The familiar swell of strength doesn't come. Instead, there's a void, an emptiness where force should be. My sivot remainsdormant, unresponsive. The corium on my arm remains inert, the etchings mere decorations rather than the harbinger of my sivot’s might.
