Page 16 of Alien Warrior’s Claim (Nyxari Bondmates #1)

LAZRIN

T he forest stilled around me, vibrations rippling through the earth beneath my feet. I stilled instantly, every instinct heightening as I extended my senses into the unnatural quiet. Danger approached—my territory was threatened.

Mirelle moved ahead through the undergrowth, her fingers brushing across medicinal plants as she collected specimens for the human camp. Sunlight filtered through the translucent leaves above, casting her in dappled blue light. Her silvery markings glowed faintly beneath her skin as she worked, more visible now that she'd stopped concealing them with bandages.

The wind shifted, bringing new scents—human sweat tinged with aggression. Not Hammond's scent, but similar intent. My lifelines flared with warning.

"Mirelle," I called softly, reaching for her. She'd already moved ahead, unaware of the danger.

She turned, her brow furrowing at my tone. "What's wrong?"

"We're not alone."

Her hand dropped immediately to the blade at her hip—a Nyxari weapon I'd gifted her after the Skelnar attack. The markings along her forearms brightened, responding to the spike of adrenaline in her blood.

"How many?" she whispered, scanning the forest.

"At least five. Surrounding us." I moved closer, positioning myself at her back as we formed a defensive stance. "Humans. Armed."

The ambush came with precise coordination. Five men burst from the undergrowth, weapons raised. Two carried energy pistols salvaged from the crash, the others makeshift spears and clubs. All wore the distinctive red armbands Hammond had begun using to mark his loyal followers.

"Step away from her, alien!" The largest man levelled his pistol at my chest.

"Hernandez?" Mirelle's voice registered shock as she recognized the man. "What are you doing?"

"Rescuing you, Duvane." His gaze never left me, finger steady on the trigger. "Hammond says you've been compromised. The alien's controlling you through those markings."

Mirelle's laugh held no humour. "Is that what he's telling everyone now? I don't need rescuing. I'm here by choice."

"You don't know what you're saying." A second man stepped forward—Phillips, I recalled, one of Hammond's security team. "The contamination affects your mind. Makes you think you're acting freely."

"This is absurd," Mirelle said, her posture shifting to something more defensive. "We're collecting medicinal plants to help people in your camp. If you wanted to talk, you could have approached openly instead of staging this ambush."

"Orders are to bring you back for decontamination," Phillips replied, his expression grim. "By force if necessary."

My lifelines pulsed with heightened awareness, every muscle tensing for combat. These men intended to take Mirelle—my mate—against her will. Primal instincts surged beneath my carefully maintained control.

"You will not touch her," I stated, the words emerging as a low growl.

"She's human," Hernandez countered. "She belongs with her own kind."

"I belong where I choose to be," Mirelle snapped. "And right now, that's not with Hammond's paranoid regime."

Phillips signalled, and the men began to close in. "Hammond said you'd resist. Said the alien influence would make you fight coming home. We're prepared for that."

One of the men lunged suddenly, attempting to circle behind us. Mirelle reacted instantly, her markings flaring as her danger sense activated. She pivoted, blade slashing in a perfect arc that caught the man's weapon and sent it flying from his grip.

"Don't make me hurt you," she warned, her voice steady despite the tension vibrating through her body. "We've all survived too much already."

"See how she defends the alien?" Phillips called to the others. "Complete manipulation. Take her down, quickly. Stun only."

Two men charged forward. Mirelle moved with enhanced grace, anticipating their attack patterns before they formed. She ducked beneath a swinging club, used her attacker's momentum to send him sprawling, then rolled away from the second man's grasp.

I remained defensive, unwilling to harm humans unless absolutely necessary. These were her people, misguided though they might be. My restraint cost me—an energy blast grazed my shoulder, burning through layers of skin. The pain was irrelevant; my focus remained on protecting Mirelle.

"Enough!" Hernandez shouted when their initial attack failed. "This ends now."

He raised his pistol and fired—not at me, but at Mirelle.

Everything slowed. The energy bolt crackled through the air toward her back as she fended off another attacker. My vision narrowed, the world condensing to a single point of threat against my mate.

I moved faster than I ever had, intercepting the bolt with my body. Pain seared across my chest as I spun, facing Hernandez with a roar that shook the forest canopy. The trigger—firing at Mirelle—shattered my control completely.

Golden light exploded from my lifelines, bathing the clearing in harsh brilliance. My vision shifted, colours intensifying as my pupils dilated fully. I felt my features transform—teeth elongating into predator's fangs, claws extending from my fingertips, the ridges along my spine hardening to armoured plates.

The battle frenzy of my ancestors consumed me.

I caught the nearest attacker by his throat, lifting him one-handed before hurling him against a tree trunk. He collapsed, unmoving but alive. The second man I disarmed with a single swipe, bones snapping beneath my grip. The third fled, disappearing into the undergrowth.

Phillips fired his weapon, the bolt striking my thigh. I barely registered it through the battle haze. I stalked toward him, a guttural growl building in my chest. Fear radiated from him in waves, his weapon trembling as he emptied its charge at me. Most shots missed; those that connected couldn't penetrate the protective fury that surrounded me.

I seized his weapon, crushing the barrel in my fist before lifting him by his throat. His feet dangled as he struggled for air. Some distant part of me recognized I should release him, but the primal instinct to eliminate threats to my mate had overwhelmed rational thought.

"."

Mirelle's voice penetrated the haze. I heard her approach, her footsteps cautious but steady.

", stop." Her voice was soft but firm. "He can't breathe."

I growled, tightening my grip. Phillips' face had turned purple, his struggles weakening.

"This isn't you," she continued, moving closer. "You're not a killer. Not like this."

From the corner of my eye, I saw Hernandez aim his weapon at her again. I hurled Phillips aside and lunged toward this new threat, a guttural snarl reverberating through the clearing.

Hernandez froze, terror paralysing him as I approached. I knocked the weapon from his grip, claws poised to tear through vulnerable human flesh.

"."

Mirelle stood directly behind me now. Against all survival instinct, she placed her hand on my shoulder. The touch sent a jolt through my system, silvery light from her markings meeting golden fire from my lifelines.

"Come back to me," she whispered.

Her hand moved to my face, palm resting against my cheek with startling gentleness. The touch anchored me, cool against the burning rage.

"I'm safe," she said, turning my face toward her. "Look at me. I'm unharmed."

My gaze locked with hers—amber eyes steady despite the danger my feral state posed. Her markings pulsed, synchronizing with my lifelines in perfect harmony. The battle frenzy began to recede, pushed back by the bond between us.

"That's it," she murmured, her thumb tracing the ridge above my eye. "Come back."

The transformation reversed—claws retracting, fangs shortening, the armoured plates along my spine softening. The golden light of my lifelines dimmed from blinding intensity to a steady glow that matched the silver patterns across Mirelle's skin.

Awareness returned in stages. I found myself kneeling on the forest floor, Mirelle's hand still cradling my face. Hernandez had scrambled backward, eyes wide with horror. Phillips lay gasping for air, his throat bruised but intact. The others had either fled or remained unconscious.

"What—" I began, my voice rough. "What happened?"

"You protected me," Mirelle said simply. "But you lost yourself for a moment."

The implications hit me with force. I had revealed the darkest aspect of my species—the feral protective rage that my ancestors had worked generations to control. I had nearly killed humans, her people, in front of her.

"I couldn't stop," I admitted, shame washing through me. "When he fired at you..."

"I know." Her hand remained on my face, her touch soothing despite the weight of what had just occurred. "I felt it through our bond. Your need to protect me overwhelmed everything else."

Hernandez had recovered enough to speak, though he remained pressed against a tree trunk, as far from me as possible. "You see it now?" he called to Mirelle. "What that thing really is? A monster barely containing its true nature."

"The only monster here is the one who fires on an unarmed woman," she replied without looking at him. "Hammond sent you to take me by force. What did you expect would happen?"

"He'll kill all of us," Phillips wheezed, clutching his bruised throat. "This proves everything Hammond warned us about. These aliens aren't civilized—they're predators wearing a mask of cooperation."

Mirelle's expression hardened as she turned to face them. "Hammond tried to have me kidnapped. You fired at me unprovoked. Yet didn't kill any of you, though he clearly could have." She gestured to where I knelt, still recovering from the feral state. "Tell me again who the real monster is."

"This isn't over," Hernandez spat, helping Phillips to his feet. "Hammond will know what happened here. Everyone will know what we saw."

"Then tell them the truth," Mirelle challenged. "Tell them you ambushed us, fired on us, and still walked away alive."

The men retreated, half-dragging their unconscious companion between them. They disappeared into the forest, their fear-scent lingering in the air.

When they were gone, Mirelle's composure wavered. She sank to her knees beside me, exhaling a shaky breath. "Are you hurt?"

I examined the energy burns on my chest and thigh. "The wounds are superficial. They will heal."

"I've never seen you like that before," she said quietly. "It was... frightening."

The words cut deeper than any energy weapon. "I am sorry you witnessed it. The battle frenzy is our darkest legacy—an ancestral trait most Nyxari spend a lifetime learning to control."

"What triggered it?"

"He fired at you." The memory alone made my lifelines flare. "The bond... when your life was threatened, the primal response overwhelmed my training."

She studied me, her expression unreadable. "Yet you stopped. When I touched you."

"Yes." I hesitated, uncertain how to explain. "The bond works both ways. Your touch anchored me, pulled me back from the frenzy."

She laced and unlaced her fingers. "The power we have over each other is unsettling," she said finally. "I calmed you with a touch. You transformed into a killing machine to protect me."

"It is the nature of the lifebond." I met her gaze directly. "We influence each other on the deepest level. It is why such bonds were sacred to my ancestors—and why they established rigid controls around them."

She stood, gathering her scattered supplies. "Hammond will use this against us. They'll tell everyone you're a savage barely containing your true nature."

"Perhaps that carries truth." I rose, wincing slightly at the burn across my chest. "The feral state lies dormant in all Nyxari, a remnant of what we once were."

Mirelle's hand touched my arm, her expression softening. "No. What I saw wasn't your true nature. It was an extreme reaction to a threat." She glanced in the direction the men had fled. "Hammond's people just tried to kidnap me. Your response was... proportionate, given the circumstances."

"I nearly killed them." The shame remained sharp, burning hotter than my wounds. "I lost control."

"And found it again." Her fingers slid down to intertwine with mine, a gesture so natural it made my lifelines pulse with warmth. "Because of our bond."

We stood connected for a moment, the forest quiet around us. Her markings glowed softly where our skin touched, synchronized with the golden light of my lifelines.

"We should really return to the settlement," I said reluctantly. "Hammond will retaliate once he hears what happened."

She nodded, but didn't pull her hand away immediately. "Thank you," she said quietly. "For protecting me. Even if it was... extreme."

As we started back toward the settlement, I sensed something had shifted between us. The fear and hesitation that had characterized her response to our bond since the cave had been tempered by something new—a recognition of its power, its potential. For better or worse, she had witnessed the most primal aspect of my nature and hadn't turned away.

Instead, she had reached for me. Touched me. Called me back.

Perhaps this marked a beginning of something different between us—something built not just on physical attraction or fated connection, but on choice. On seeing the worst and choosing to stay anyway.

The thought gave me hope, even as Hammond's inevitable response loomed before us.