Page 59

“So do you,” she countered, but did not resist as I guided her toward the chamber exit. The afternoon sun cast long shadows through the settlement as we made our way back to our dwelling, our steps naturally falling into sync.

ZARA

“Hammond’s systems were always vulnerable at the power relay,” I explained, gesturing toward the holographic display Rivera had cobbled together from salvaged Seraphyne components. My markings responded to the technology, a faint warmth beneath my skin. “Cut that, and the defensive perimeter drops.”

Rivera nodded, her own markings visible as she manipulated the projection. The blue light cast strange shadows across the strategy room, giving an otherworldly glow to those gathered around the table. “Assuming he hasn’t modified the configuration since your escape.”

“He’s working with limited resources,” I reminded her, noting the faint ozone scent that always accompanied active tech. “And the lab collapse destroyed his main power integration node.”

I found unexpected purpose in contributing my technical knowledge to the alliance’s efforts. My familiarity with Hammond’s systems provided insights no one else possessed, turning my months of captivity into an advantage. After three days of working alongside the Eastern Settlement team, I felt a growing sense of integration, of belonging. These people– human and Nyxari alike – valued my expertise, respected my experience. After months of Hammond’s suspicion and isolation, the feeling was almost disorienting.

I sensed Ravik’s approach before he appeared in the doorway through our bond. Though still recovering from his injuries, he had spent the morning advising the warriors on Shadow Canyon defense techniques. His presence immediately drew my attention, golden eyes finding mine across the room. The bond between us pulsed with recognition, like complementary energy fields aligning.

“Enough planning for today,” Lazrin decided, noting the position of the twin suns through the dwelling’s translucent walls. “We’ll continue tomorrow. Rest is equally important.”

As the others filed out, Ravik’s hand found mine, the contact sending a warm pulse through our bond. His skin felt several degrees warmer than mine, a Nyxari trait I’d come to appreciate.

“You’ve eaten nothing since morning,” he observed, his voice pitched low for my ears alone. His golden eyes held concern beneath their usual intensity.

I smiled, appreciating the care behind the observation. “Are you monitoring me now?”

“The bond makes it difficult not to notice such things.” His tail brushed against my leg, a familiar gesture of affection. Through our connection, I could feel his genuine concern rather than any attempt to control. “Your energy fluctuates when you need nourishment.”

“I could say the same. You’re pushing yourself too hard in training.” I countered, noting the subtle stiffness in his movements that only someone attuned to his body would detect.

We left together, making our way through the settlement toward our dwelling. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the pathways, the light taking on the golden-red quality unique to Arenix’s twin suns. The air carried the scents ofcooking food, blooming plants, and the distinctive mineral tang of the living vashkai stone. The Eastern Settlement had an organic quality that had initially felt alien to me – structures grown rather than built, pathways that curved with natural contours rather than rigid grids. Now it felt increasingly like home.

Inside our dwelling, I busied myself preparing a simple meal while Ravik gathered maps he’d been annotating with Shadow Canyon landmarks. The lighting inside was soft and warm, filtering through translucent vashkai panels that regulated temperature as well as illumination. The space wasn’t large, but it felt comfortable – a far cry from the sterile metal cells of Hammond’s compound or the improvised shelters I’d constructed during months on the run.

The domesticity of the moment struck me suddenly – the comfortable silence, the shared space, the unspoken coordination of our movements. Six weeks ago, we’d been strangers, enemies even. Now...

“Your thoughts are loud again,” Ravik commented, settling at our small table. His tail curled comfortably around the base of his seat, a relaxed posture I’d rarely seen during our early days together.

“Just... adjusting,” I admitted, bringing food to the table – a mix of cultivated Arenix plants and preserved Seraphyne rations. The colors were vivid, the scents enticing – another stark contrast to the bland survival rations of recent months. “To this. Us.”

His expression softened, golden eyes warming. “The transition has been... unexpected for us both.”

I sat across from him, watching as he carefully portioned the food. His movements were precise, economical, but gentler than they had been when I first met him. The fierce warrior who hadonce glared at me from across a cell now handled delicate food items with surprising care.

“Pass the sprocken-root?” I asked, naming the bitter purple vegetable I’d developed a surprising taste for. The root had medicinal properties that supported the nervous system, according to Selene – perhaps why my markings responded positively to it.

He did so, our fingers brushing in the exchange. The simple contact sent a ripple of warmth through our bond. Through our connection, I felt his pleasure at the reaction – a quiet satisfaction that I responded so readily to his touch.

“My clan will need to be notified immediately about the Aerie Kin situation,” he said after a moment. “They have younglings of their own who must be protected.”

I nodded, still processing the Council’s revelation from earlier. “Do you think Hammond specifically targeted children?”

“It would be consistent with his methodical approach,” Ravik said, his expression grim. “My clan has guarded our younglings with particular vigilance for generations. Their developing lifelines have always been considered sacred and vulnerable.”

The conversation shifted to lighter topics as we continued eating. He told me of Shadow Canyon traditions I might find interesting – the night fishing rituals, the coming-of-age tests, the seasonal ceremonies.

“The crystal meditation is performed when young warriors first develop their lifeline awareness,” he explained, gesturing with his eating utensil. “They sit in the sacred caverns for three days, neither eating nor speaking, until the canyon stone speaks to them.”

“Three days without food?” I raised an eyebrow. “That seems excessive.”

His mouth quirked in the subtle expression I recognized as amusement. “Says the human who survived on emergency rations for weeks in the wilderness.”

“That was necessity, not tradition,” I pointed out, though I smiled at the comparison.