"What …," I started.
"Quiet."
The word was barely a breath. His head turned, scanning the sky behind us. I twisted in his arms, trying to see what had spooked him.
Shapes moved against the stars. Large. Multiple. Wings spread wide, riding the thermals with predatory efficiency.
"Firebirds," Nyx said. His voice had dropped into something flat and dangerous. "Apex predators. Highly territorial."
The shapes grew closer. I could make out details now. Massive bodies, easily twice Nyx's size. Beaks designed for tearing. Talons that gleamed like blades. Wings that spanned wide enough to block out sections of sky. They looked like freaking pterodactyls.
There were at least six of them.
"Can you outfly them?" I asked.
"Not while carrying you."
The flock was descending, cutting off our route. Herding us like prey.
Nyx's wings shifted, changing our trajectory. He dove. The ground rushed up to meet us, rock formations that had seemed small from altitude suddenly looming huge.
My stomach lurched. I locked my arms around his neck, trusting him completely because I had no other choice.
The dive was controlled chaos. Wind screamed past. Nyx's wings were tucked tight, his body a missile aimed at a rocky outcropping below.
We were going to hit. Going to crash into stone at terminal velocity and shatter.
His wings snapped open.
The deceleration was brutal. My body strained against his hold, physics trying to tear me from his arms. His tail tightened until I couldn't breathe. Then we were down, his feet hitting rock with an impact that nearly cracked stone.
He set me down. Fast but careful, making sure I had my footing before releasing me.
"Take cover," he ordered.
Then he was moving. Positioning himself between me and the sky. His wings spread wide, a barrier of scale and membrane. His claws extended, painted black and deadly sharp.
The firebirds circled above. Their screeches cut through the night, high-pitched and furious. Territorial warnings. Promises of violence.
One dove.
Nyx met it mid-air. The collision was devastating. Claws against talons, his blade appearing in his hand like magic. He drove it into the creature's chest, twisted, yanked free. Dark blood sprayed across the rocks.
The firebird screamed and retreated.
Two more dove together in a coordinated attack. Nyx's wings beat once, hard, lifting him just high enough to avoid the first set of talons. His tail whipped out, caught the second firebird across the face. Bone crunched.
He was magnificent.
I'd seen Drakarn warriors fight in training. Had sparred with them, learned their techniques. But this was different. This wasNyx unleashed, all his skill and strength focused on a single purpose.
Protecting me.
One of the firebirds opened its beak. Fire erupted, a stream of superheated air that turned the rocks around us into an oven. Nyx dove, rolled, came up in a new position.
Holy fucking shit. Fire. Birds. The name was descriptive. Another reminder that Volcaryth was a hell planet, bent on destruction.
The fire missed him by inches. But it forced him to adjust. To move. To create an opening.
