Page 50
Story: Chimera's Prisoner
Five.
My hand touches the exit stone—a carefully balanced slab designed to appear natural from outside. Behind me, claws scrape against stone as Kain gains ground through sheer determination.
I shove against the barrier with desperate strength. It tilts outward as designed, creating a gap just wide enough for human passage. Without hesitation, I squeeze through, emerging onto a narrow ledge carved into the mountain's northern face.
Brilliant morning sun blinds me after the tunnel's darkness. I blink rapidly, trying to orient myself as the exit stone slides automatically back into place—buying precious seconds before pursuit can follow.
The ledge extends in both directions. To my right, a treacherous path leads upward toward the ridge summit. Higher ground means better visibility, but complete exposure on the mountainside. To my left, a wider trail descends toward the valley where Vex promised to place red stone markers. Cover from aerial detection, but potential ground pursuit.
Just as I round the bend, I see it—a small stone with distinctive red veining placed at a junction where the main ledge continues downward while a smaller path branches horizontally along the mountain face. Vex's marker, positioned exactly where he promised.
Without hesitation, I take the horizontal path, ducking beneath overhanging rock. The path narrows until it's barely the width of my foot. I press my back against the mountain face, shuffling sideways with agonizing slowness. My heart pounds so loudly I'm certain Kain will hear it as he reaches the junction.
I hear his footsteps pause on the other side of the outcropping. His inhalation is a sharp, clear sound as he scents for my trail. A moment of silence stretches, and I allow myself a flicker of hope. He'll take the main path. He'll follow the stronger scent trail downward.
His footsteps resume, moving away from me, down the wider descending ledge. Relief floods through me, so potent it almost makes my knees buckle. I've done it. I’ve?—
My boot slips.
The stone beneath my foot crumbles, sending a small cascade of pebbles clattering down the rock face. The sound is deafening in the mountain silence.
The footsteps below me stop abruptly.
A low growl echoes up from the main ledge. He heard. He knows.
My brief moment of triumph evaporates, replaced by ice-cold dread. I hear the scrape of claws on stone as he reverses course, his movements now filled with a new, furious energy. He's no longer just pursuing; he's hunting prey that dared to outsmart him.
I scramble forward along the hidden path, abandoning stealth for pure speed. The red marker ahead seems impossibly far. Behind and below me, I can hear Kain climbing, his superior strength allowing him to scale the rock face directly rather than follow the switchbacks. He's closing the distance with terrifying speed.
I won't make it to the next valley. I won't even make it to the next marker.
He's going to catch me. Right here, on this cliff face, with nowhere left to run.
CHAPTER 22
PROTECTIVE RAGE
Vex's POV
The binding chain whistles past my left wing, close enough to singe scales. Paralytic energy crackles along the metal links—one touch and I'll never fly again. I twist midair, using momentum to drive my tail into the Feline enforcer below me. The impact sends him tumbling into the ravine, his scream swallowed by mountain mist.
Blood streams down my side from three wounds. A binding dart that grazed my shoulder. Claw marks across my ribs where one particularly fast Feline got close. A deep gash along my thigh from shrapnel when they triggered my own rock traps against me.
None fatal. But together, they slow me.
Four hours of this. The Council forces press forward with mechanical determination, their numbers barely diminished despite my territorial advantages. These aren't normal enforcers. They're specialists. Every weapon, every tactic designed specifically to ground a Chimeric alpha.
I bank upward, catching a thermal that lifts me above their effective range. Fifteen operatives started this assault. Nine remain combat-effective, including one Gargoyle binder whosestone wings beat with patient rhythm as he waits for the perfect shot.
My territory. My rules.
But something shifts in my awareness—a subtle change in air pressure that speaks of movement in distant passages. My enhanced senses detect the vibration of footsteps where none should be. The rhythm is wrong, too light and too coordinated for the mountain's natural inhabitants.
Intruders. In my den.
The realization hits with devastating clarity. Kain has divided his forces—the eastern assault merely distraction while specialized extraction team targets Amelia directly. A classic Council tactic I should have anticipated.
Kain. The cunning bastard divided his forces while I was focused on the obvious threat. The eastern assault was distraction. A feint to draw me away while extraction specialists targeted Amelia directly.
Table of Contents
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