I clamp my mouth shut and press closer to his back, my fingers curling lightly around the cool scales of his arm. He doesn’t flinch. If anything, he leans into my touch.
The shadow moves again. Faster. Closer.
Travnyk’s tusks lift in warning. Tomas holds his breath, face pale. Rakkh lowers his head, eyes dark and burning.
“On my word,” he murmurs—barely a whisper.
I nod against his shoulder. My body shakes, but not just with fear. With the terrifying certainty that whatever lies in that corridor didn’t just wake for anyone. It woke for me.
The pulse comes again—louder now, resonating under my skin like a second heartbeat. My heartbeat—and the ship answers in kind.
Rakkh’s claws tighten. Travnyk raises his blade. Tomas stifles a sob.
The shadow breaks from the dark. And Rakkh roars?—
“Now!”
He twists with impossible speed, catching the sentinel midair with a brutal sweep of his forearm. Sparks fly where his claws scrape its surface.
The thing skids across the floor, limbs snapping into a low stance. It doesn’t bleed or pant. Worse, it doesn’t show pain. Its slitted, glowing violet eyes lock onto me. Every hair on my body rises.
“No,” Rakkh growls, stepping directly into its line of sight. His tail curls around my thigh again, anchoring me behind him. “Not her.”
The sentinel tilts its head. A faint hum rises from its body, like a tuning fork pressed to my skull.
It’s scanning me.
“Lia,” Travnyk hisses urgently, “do not let it see your face again!”
But it’s too late. Something inside the sentinel brightens—a pinpoint of violet at its core. Recognition. It knows me.
I stumble backward, pulse slamming painfully, but Rakkh moves with me, always the barrier between us. His breathing is low and furious, the rumble of a male ready to tear worlds apart.
The sentinel lunges.
It moves incredibly fast. Rakkh meets it with a roar that vibrates through my bones. Claws collide with chitinous metal in a burst of sparks.
It tries to get around him—toward me. He blocks it. It leaps for the wall—attempting to flank. He anticipates and slams it down by its hind limbs.
Its limbs twist unnaturally, and it tries to scuttle sideways on its back—no animal should move like this. No machine should either.
“Travnyk! Help him!” I shout.
The Urr’ki warrior charges, blade raised. Tomas wisely stays back, terrified and shaking.
The sentinel reacts too quickly. One limb lashes out, catching Travnyk across the chest. His armor absorbs most of the hit, but he hits the wall hard and groans, sliding down.
“It adapts,” Travnyk gasps. “It learns!”
Rakkh snarls, slamming his foot into the sentinel’s thorax. The violet veins pulse again—faster.
“It is assessing her,” he growls. “It wants to take her.”
Ice grips my spine.
The sentinel jerks under Rakkh’s weight, tries to spring free. Rakkh crushes down with brutal strength—but the thing twists, sending a violet jolt along his leg.
He staggers.
