I opened my mouth to tell them they were wrong. That Nyx was mine, that I'd chosen him, that if they'd hurt him, I'd make them regret every second of their miserable lives.
The words died in my throat.
Six humans. Six blasters. All trained on me now, though their postures were relaxed. Friendly. Like they were expecting gratitude, not violence.
If I defended Nyx, if I told them the truth, what would they think? That I'd been brainwashed? That I had Stockholm syndrome? That the Drakarn had done something to me to make me compliant?
They wouldn't trust me. And if they didn't trust me, I couldn't help Nyx. Couldn't figure out who these people were, what they wanted, why they were here.
Couldn't protect him.
The realization washed over me like ice water. Cold and clarifying and absolutely infuriating.
I let my body go slack. Let my expression shift from rage to confusion, to something that might pass for shock or relief if they weren't looking too closely.
"You're human," I said. My voice came out rough, uncertain. Not hard to fake when my throat was tight with the effort of not screaming. "How did you find me?"
"We've been tracking you for the last day." A man this time, tall and lean with the kind of tan that came from living under these suns for months. "We've been following, waiting for a chance to extract you safely."
Apparently, they hadn’t been watching close enough because the only grabbing Nyx had done had been more than consensual.
The woman's expression softened. She released my arm, stepped back slightly. "You're safe now. We have a place not far from here. Food, water, medical supplies. We'll get you checked out, make sure that thing didn't hurt you."
That thing.
My fingers tightened on the knife grip. The one Nyx had made for me, had offered to me on his knees.
"We should move," another voice said. A younger man, maybe early twenties, with the kind of nervous energy that came from adrenaline. "The sensors are picking up those damned giant birds. Another swarm in the area."
The woman nodded. "Fuck. Can you walk?" This last was directed at me.
"Yes." I tested my weight, made sure my legs would hold me. The soreness between my thighs was a distraction I couldn't afford. I shoved it down, compartmentalized it with everything else I couldn't deal with right now. "I can walk."
"Good. Stay close. We'll explain everything once we're safe."
Safe. Right.
I’d spent so long desperate to find these humans that it had never occurred to me that they might have rescued themselves.
And we’d walked right into a trap.
15
NYX
Pain draggedme back to consciousness.
My skull throbbed with each heartbeat and made thinking difficult. My wings were cramped, folded at angles they weren't meant to hold, the joints screaming protest. Something sharp dug into my wrists, cutting through scales to the softer tissue beneath.
I tried to move. My hands wouldn't respond.
Bound.
I forced my eyes open, blinked against the darkness. Not complete. Enough light filtered from somewhere that I could make out shapes, surfaces, the dimensions of wherever I'd been thrown.
The walls were close. The ceiling hung low enough that I'd hit my head if I stood fully upright. The floor beneath me was hard, unforgiving, radiating heat like it had been baking under the suns for hours.
But the texture was wrong.
