Page 20 of Alien Warrior’s Claim (Nyxari Bondmates #1)

LAZRIN

T hree days after the rescue mission, seismic tremors announced a new threat as I secured the final shelter support. Around me, the settlement mobilized—women and warriors executing preparations for the approaching storm with practiced efficiency. Dark clouds gathered at the horizon, electric blue lightning fracturing the sky with increasing frequency.

"The atmospheric pressure drops rapidly," I told the nearest worker, a builder named Thalen. "Reinforce the eastern supports. The wind will come from that direction first."

He nodded, already moving to comply. I surveyed our preparations with a warrior's critical eye. The rescued women had been housed in the central chambers, the most secure structures in the settlement.

I sensed Mirelle before spotting her—her presence resonating through our bond and drawing my attention across the settlement. She navigated between preparation teams with decisive movements, silver markings glinting even from afar. Our reconnection had intensified our link beyond measure. Her location, emotions, and occasional directed thoughts filtered through to me with remarkable clarity.

, her consciousness brushed against mine. The western storage chambers are secured. The elders are sheltered.

I sent acknowledgment through our connection, a wordless reassurance that her message had been received. This silent communication had become second nature to us—practical, efficient, and profoundly intimate in ways verbal exchange could never match.

The ground trembled beneath my feet, more forcefully this time. Not the gentle warning tremors of an approaching storm, but something different—a rhythmic vibration I recognized from decades of hunting on Arenix.

I detected vibrations distinct from the storm's tumult—a rhythm too methodical for natural seismic activity. My lifelines ignited in warning. The tempest wasn't merely disturbing the earth; it was rousing ancient predators from their slumber.

"Clear the settlement perimeter!" I shouted, my voice carrying over the rising wind. "All civilians to the central chambers! Warriors to defensive positions!"

Via our mental link, Mirelle's response registered—not as confusion but immediate understanding as she extracted knowledge directly from my consciousness.

skelnar, her mind whispered against mine. The storm is waking them.

"Varek!" I called to my second, who appeared at my side instantly. "The storm has disturbed the Void Serpent nests in the western canyons."

His eyes widened slightly—the only sign of alarm he would allow himself to display. "How many?"

"Too many." I drew my blade, already moving toward the perimeter where the vibrations felt strongest. "Alert the settlement. Form defensive rings around the central shelters."

As Varek rallied the warriors, I extended my senses beyond the settlement walls. The vibrations increased in both frequency and intensity—multiple skelnar approaching from various directions, drawn by the settlement's warmth and activity.

Mirelle, I projected toward her consciousness. They approach from all vectors. The tempest has triggered their premature awakening.

Her response carried both acknowledgment and determination. Through our connection, I detected her coordinating the marked women into defensive formations we had practiced—each positioned to utilize her unique abilities. Rivera with her object-sensing at the northern approach. Jen with her enhanced hearing monitoring the eastern perimeter. Talia preparing plant-based deterrents at strategic points throughout the settlement.

The first barrier alarms sounded—high, piercing tones that indicated subterranean movement near the settlement's edge. Warriors moved into position, their weapons ready. We had faced skelnar before, but never in such numbers, never during a storm of this magnitude.

The ground erupted thirty paces from the western barrier. Earth and stone showered upward as a massive serpentine form burst into the open air—scaly, segmented, its eyeless head swiveling as it sensed heat signatures around it. A fully-grown Void Serpent, at least forty body-lengths in size, its armored hide glistening with blue-black iridescence in the storm's unnatural light.

Before the creature could fully orient itself, my warriors attacked in coordinated pairs—one distracting the serpent's attention while the other struck at the vulnerable seams between armored plates. The familiar rhythm of battle consumed me as I directed the defense, my blade finding its mark in the soft tissue beneath a serpent's jaw.

Dark ichor sprayed across my chest as the creature thrashed in pain. Through decades of hunting these predators, I had learned their weaknesses, the precise points where their natural armor failed to protect vital systems.

The serpent collapsed, its segmented body writhing in death throes. But before we could regroup, the ground shuddered again—two more eruption points forming within the settlement itself.

Mirelle's alarm surged across our connection. The central chambers! They're tunneling beneath the shelters!

I pivoted immediately, racing toward the settlement's heart where our most vulnerable members had sought safety. Through the driving rain that had begun to fall, I saw Mirelle coordinating an evacuation—directing civilians from the compromised shelter to another structure as the ground beneath them became increasingly unstable.

"Primary shelter compromised!" she shouted as I approached. "Secondary chambers ready for evacuation!"

Her silver markings blazed through her rain-soaked clothing, pulsing with the same urgency I felt through our bond. Without needing verbal confirmation, we moved in perfect tandem—her danger sense guiding the evacuation while my combat experience anticipated the skelnar's emergence points.

"There!" She pointed to a spot ten paces from the primary shelter, where the ground bulged upward in telltale fashion. "And there!" Another spot, near the community cooking area.

Warriors raced to the indicated positions, weapons ready. The first serpent burst through directly where Mirelle had pointed, its massive form showering debris across the gathered civilians. Before it could strike, three warriors engaged it, their coordinated attacks driving it back from the evacuation route.

The second emerged with explosive force, larger than the first, its segmented body pouring from the earth like some endless nightmare made flesh. This one moved with greater speed, its head swinging toward the fleeing civilians with predatory precision.

I intercepted it, my blade driving deep into the soft tissue beneath its jaw. The creature recoiled, spraying caustic fluid that sizzled against my skin. Pain flared, but I pushed it aside, focusing on the immediate threat. Three quick strikes targeting the neural cluster behind its armored head brought the serpent down, its massive body collapsing in segments.

Through sheets of rain and shrieking wind, a distant wail penetrated—alarm horns from the human encampment. The onslaught had spread beyond our boundaries.

"Hammond's camp," Mirelle said, materializing at my side, a bloodied blade in her hand. "They're under attack too."

I nodded, already assessing our situation. The skelnar continued to emerge—our warriors engaging them at multiple points throughout the settlement. Most civilians had been safely evacuated to the secondary chambers, but our defensive line stretched increasingly thin.

"They have fewer warriors," I noted grimly. "And no experience with skelnar."

Mirelle's expression hardened with resolve. "We need to help them."

"Hammond would never accept our assistance."

"Hammond isn't the only human in that camp." Her eyes met mine, determination blazing in their amber depths. "There are innocent people there, . People who never chose his paranoia."

She was right, of course. Whatever Hammond's failings, the civilians in his camp deserved protection. More importantly, I recognized the strategic reality—if the human camp fell, the skelnar would simply turn their full attention to our settlement. The storm had destabilized their natural hunting patterns, driving them toward any source of warmth and movement.

"Varek!" I called, my second materializing from the battle's chaos. "Hold the defensive line. I'll lead a strike team to the human camp."

He assessed both Mirelle and me, comprehension evident in his stance. "How many hunters?"

"Ten," I determined. "Skilled serpent-slayers with proven speed."

"Count me among them," Mirelle declared, her conviction unmistakable. "Hammond's people will accept my presence where they'd reject yours."

Through our connection, her determination registered not as emotional impulse but tactical advantage. The humans would respond to a familiar face rather than perceiving an invasion force.

"As you wish." I turned to Varek. "Select the team. We move immediately."

Within moments, ten warriors had gathered—each bearing the scars and experience of multiple serpent hunts. I briefed them quickly, emphasizing our mission was protection, not conquest.

"The humans will interpret our arrival as invasion," I cautioned. "We move visibly, with transparent purpose. Focus only on eliminating predators. Interact with humans solely in self-defense."

The journey to Hammond's camp was treacherous—the storm's intensity increasing with each passing moment. Lightning struck nearby trees, sending splinters of wood exploding outward. The ground continued to tremble beneath our feet, new eruption points forming throughout the forest as more skelnar rose from their disturbed nests.

We intercepted three predators during our journey, neutralizing them swiftly before advancing. Mirelle's consciousness fed me tactical intelligence—her heightened perception identifying safe passages and revealing approach routes invisible to normal senses.

From the final ridge, the vista below stopped me mid-stride. Hammond's camp lay devastated—structures collapsed, barriers shredded. Six massive skelnar weaved through the wreckage, capturing fleeing humans with methodical precision.

A small group of armed defenders had formed a protective ring around the central command structure, their weapons discharging with desperate frequency. I recognized Hammond himself at the center, directing the defense with the same military precision that had characterized his leadership since the crash.

"They're being overrun," Mirelle observed, her voice tight. "The southern perimeter has already collapsed."

I assessed the situation with a warrior's eye. "We approach from the east, drive the skelnar toward the river. Water confuses their heat-sensing abilities."

She nodded, already moving forward. "I'll make contact with Hammond. Try to coordinate our efforts."

I caught her arm, my lifelines flaring with protective instinct. "Hammond may see our arrival as an attack rather than assistance."

Her silver markings pulsed in response to my concern. "Then I'll make our intentions clear."

We descended toward the embattled camp, my warriors spreading into practiced formation. The first behemoth detecting our approach reared its torso skyward, blindly orienting toward our movement. Three hunters converged before it could strike, their weapons finding gaps between armored segments with anatomical precision.

Human defenders registered our presence seconds later—disoriented shouts piercing the cacophony of storm and predator. Weapons swiveled toward us until Mirelle advanced, her voice slicing through the tumult.

"Hammond!" she called, positioning herself where he could clearly see her. "We're here to help! The storm has awakened a Void Serpent nest!"

Through the driving rain, I saw Hammond's expression shift from surprise to suspicion. "This is your doing!" he shouted back. "These monsters followed you here!"

"These creatures live beneath Arenix!" Mirelle replied, frustration evident in her voice. "The storm disturbed their hibernation! Our settlement is under attack too!"

A serpent burst from the ground between them, cutting off further conversation. Hammond dove aside, narrowly avoiding snapping jaws. Mirelle moved with enhanced grace, her silver markings flaring as her danger sense guided her away from the creature's strike path.

I was at her side instantly, my blade driving deep into the serpent's neural cluster. The creature collapsed, its segmented body continuing to writhe as secondary nervous systems fought against inevitable death.

Hammond stared at us from where he had fallen, his expression unreadable through the rain and chaos. For a heartbeat, I thought he would order his people to fire upon us. Then practicality overrode paranoia.

"Eastern perimeter!" he shouted to his security team. "Work with them! Drive the creatures toward the river!"

Relief coursed through our shared consciousness as Mirelle registered Hammond's pragmatic decision. My hunters coordinated instantly with human defenders, our specialized knowledge of Void Serpent anatomy amplifying their defensive efforts.

I fought alongside Hammond himself—our mutual distrust set aside in the face of immediate threat. He wielded an energy rifle with military precision, targeting the skelnar's eye sockets where their armor was thinnest. When a smaller serpent lunged toward him from behind, I intercepted it without hesitation, my blade severing its neural connections.

Hammond's gaze met mine in a moment of startled acknowledgment before he turned to engage another threat, offering no thanks but continuing to fight alongside rather than against my warriors.

Our bond transmitted Mirelle's position throughout the conflict. She'd assembled human civilians into an evacuation unit, shepherding them toward fortified structures while warriors formed protective flanks. Her prescient danger sense transformed the defense—pinpointing eruption sites before skelnar surfaced, positioning defenders at vulnerable locations moments before assaults manifested.

The conflict stretched across fifty brutal minutes—the storm abating as we eliminated or drove the remaining skelnar riverward. When the last behemoth collapsed, the camp lay partially demolished but with its inhabitants predominantly alive. My warriors regrouped at the perimeter, weapons poised yet inactive.

Hammond approached Mirelle and me, his security team flanking him in protective formation. His clothing was torn and bloodied, a deep gash across his forehead testament to the battle's intensity.

"Why?" he demanded without preamble. "Why help us after what happened?"

Mirelle met his gaze steadily. "Because people needed help. Because survival matters more than ideology."

"You could have let us die," Hammond pressed, his eyes narrowing. "Eliminated your opposition."

"Is that what you would have done?" I asked, my voice level despite the accusation implicit in his words.

Hammond didn't answer immediately, his gaze shifting between us. "These creatures—you've faced them before."

"Many times," I confirmed. "They hibernate beneath the western canyons. The storm's seismic activity disturbed their normal cycles, drove them toward heat and movement."

"Your knowledge saved lives today," he acknowledged, the admission clearly costing him. "But don't mistake this for alliance. Once the immediate threat passes?—"

"You'll return to seeing us as enemies," Mirelle finished for him. "We understand, Hammond. But perhaps today's cooperation might suggest another path forward."

He studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "The creatures attacked your settlement too?"

"Yes. Our warriors defend it even now." I indicated the ridge where our settlement stood. "Skelnar gravitate toward heat signatures and movement clusters. Our communities both present compelling targets."

Something altered in Hammond's expression—not quite acceptance, nowhere near trust, but a flicker of recognition regarding mutual exposure. "Return to your people. We can handle the aftermath."

It wasn't gratitude, but it wasn't open hostility either. Progress, however minor.

As we gathered our warriors to depart, I felt Mirelle's consciousness brushing against mine through our bond—her thoughts colored with cautious hope.

Perhaps this changes something, she suggested. Shared danger creating common ground.

Perhaps, I acknowledged, though experience tempered my optimism. At minimum, they've seen what cooperation can achieve.

We departed as we had arrived—openly, without stealth or subterfuge. Hammond's people watched us go, their expressions ranging from open gratitude to lingering suspicion. The storm had passed, its fury spent, leaving behind destruction that would require days to repair.

More significant than physical damage, however, was the potential shift in perception. Hammond's people had fought alongside Nyxari warriors against a common threat. They had witnessed our willingness to protect without condition, to offer assistance to those who had named us enemy.

Such experiences changed perspectives in ways argument never could. Whether this change would persist beyond immediate crisis remained to be seen, but the seed had been planted.

At the ridge's summit, I surveyed the human settlement—battered yet enduring, its inhabitants preserved through cooperation rather than division. Through our bond, Mirelle's consciousness aligned with my unvoiced assessment.

For this moment, at least, we had transcended ancient barriers.