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The wilderness stretched before us, dark and sheltering, promising cover if we could reach it before reinforcements arrived.

“Run,” I managed, grabbing her arm to steady myself as much as her. My back flared with renewed agony at the movement, blood flowing freely down my spine and soaking into my clothing.

We crossed the invisible line where compound lighting ended and Arenix’s natural darkness began. Behind us, alarms still screamed, but the sounds grew more distant with each stumbling step.

Search beams cut through the night, weaving patterns that missed us by increasingly wider margins.

Only when the forest closed around us, the dense undergrowth providing natural concealment, did I allow myself to feel the true extent of my injuries. The plasma burn cut deep across my back and shoulder, muscle and nerve damaged beyond my body’s immediate ability to compensate.

Blood soaked my clothing, dripping down my spine and pooling at the base of my tail.

One step. Another.

The bond connected me to Zara’s concern, her determination keeping me upright when my body demanded collapse. I focused on moving forward, on putting distance between us and our pursuers.

Each footfall sent fresh waves of pain radiating from the wound, but I forced my legs to continue, my tail now dragging uselessly behind me rather than providing its usual balance.

My vision began to tunnel, darkness encroaching from the periphery. Not from pain—pain was a companion I had trained with extensively—but from blood loss.

The plasma burn had cauterized some vessels but severed others, and fluid loss was reaching critical levels.

“Just a little further,” Zara urged, though our bond told me she had no specific destination in mind. Just away.

Always away from Hammond.

But even a warrior’s will has limits. My knees buckled beneath me, strength deserting limbs that had never before failed me.

The ground rose to meet my face, rough bark and fallen leaves pressing against my cheek. The forest floor smelled of decay and renewal, the natural cycle of Arenix that continued regardless of the small dramas played out upon its surface.

Zara’s voice came from far away, urgent but indistinct. I felt her hands on me, turning me onto my side to prevent suffocation.

The bond connected us weakly as my consciousness faded.

The last thing I felt before darkness claimed me was her fingers finding my lifelines, her silver markings meeting the gold of my own. A connection that transcended physical touch, reaching for me even as awareness slipped away.

ZARA

“Ravik!”

His name tore from my throat as he crumpled to the ground. One moment he’d been moving, the next—collapsed, a mountain of muscle and bone suddenly inanimate.

I dropped beside him, hands shaking, heart hammering against my ribs.

My vision swam, still fractured and unreliable. Light sensitivity made the dim forest painfully bright in patches, while shadows turned to impenetrable black voids.

But I could see enough to recognize the severity of his injuries, to understand that without immediate attention, the powerful Nyxari warrior would die here, on foreign soil, far from his clan.

The plasma burn stretched across his back, raw and charred. The smell was horrific—burned flesh and fabric fused together, underlaid with the distinctive copper-sweet scent of Nyxari blood.

So much blood. It soaked through his garments, pooling beneath him on the forest floor.

He’d taken a direct hit. For me.

Panic threatened to overwhelm me, a tightness in my chest that made breathing difficult. I’d been Security Division before the crash, trained to handle emergencies with cool professionalism.

But this was different. This was Ravik.

Over our days of captivity and escape, he had become... important. The bond connected us, weakened but present.