Yorta stands near the entrance, waiting. Always waiting.
“She is human,” he says eventually. “Fragile.”
“So are the saplings we plant,” I counter. “But give them time, and they crack stone.”
“A human is not?—”
“Sheis,” I cut in. “I do not know how. I do not know why. But I will not ignore the calling.”
He nods slowly. “Then we must protect her.”
My jaw tightens. “We will.”
A beat passes. Then another.
The pull sharpens.
I stand abruptly and cross the room in two strides, retrieving the portable holopad resting near my armor rack. With one tap, the interface flashes to life, sterile blue light cutting through the shadows. My claws skim the surface, bringing up a schematic.
But not of this chamber.
Ofhers.
The humans hide their quarters behind coded partitions, but I have spies. Quiet ones. Ones who know how to slip through corridors unseen. I summon one now with a low whistle pitched to Reaper frequencies.
The wall panel shifts. A young infiltrator slides out of the shadows—thin, sharp-eyed, stealth-trained. One of the few who can move without making the air itself quiver.
“Warlord,” he murmurs, bowing low.
I tilt the holopad toward him. “Find me the layout. The girl’s quarters. Every exit, every access panel, every weak seam in the bulkheads. Bring it. Tonight.”
His nostrils flare, surprise flickering—but he bows deeper. “As you command.”
He melts back into the walls like smoke.
Yorta exhales. “Vokar…”
I don’t let him finish.
“If I want her,” I say softly, “I will have her.”
The words vibrate in my throat, half-growl, half-oath. The kind of vow that once started wars between clans. The old ways stir in my blood—ways of claiming, ways of choosing.
This girl—this tiny, fierce-hearted creature—ignited something I’ve never known. Not dominance. Not hunger. Something… woven. Binding.
I sit again, resting my elbows on my knees, palms pressed together. My breath comes heavy, controlled only by practiced discipline.
Yorta studies me with a mixture of awe and worry.
“She will fear you,” he warns.
I smile—slow, teeth glinting.
“She will not.”
“How do you know?”
“I saw the way she looked back.”
