Page 48 of Claimed By the Vykan

Her thoughts were interrupted when the garden grew still. The breeze stopped moving. The waterfall’s song remained the same, but the air felt… suspended.

She looked up.

The mist above her thickened in an unusual way, gathering into dense ripples that darkened the sky. The faint sunlight that had filtered through minutes earlier vanished.

A deep hush settled over the bastion.

Her heart tightened.

Something was happening, and it wasn’t the attunement.

The sky darkened…

CHAPTER 22

The mist above the garden darkened so swiftly that it stole her breath. One moment, the world shimmered with violet twilight, the next it shifted—heavier, denser—like a concealed hand pressing down on the bastion.

She stepped toward the open clearing by the pond, her instincts prickling. The waterfall’s soft murmur continued, but everything else held unnaturally still.

Then the sky split.

A shape tore through the mist—sleek, metallic, silent. Not a ship like in any human film, not even the wildest sci-fi imagination. This one looked alive. Its silver hull curved like blade edges meeting in angles too precise for Earth-born design, each surface catching the dim light and fracturing it into shimmering shards. Its triangular form warped faintly at the edges, as though reality struggled to render its shape fully.

The vessel hovered above the garden, suspended in the heavy air, and something uncoiled from beneath it—a length of black metallic cable, rippling as if infused with its own intelligence.

Then they descended.

Six of them, one after another, armored from head to toe in dark plates that glinted like obsidian. They hit the stonepavement with deadly grace, straightening in perfect unison. Their helmets were angular, primal, with narrow slits of cobalt light where eyes might be.

A seventh figure followed.

Larger. Broader. Moving as though the air bent around him.

Another Vykan?

Cold dread slid along her spine.

He walked forward with controlled, predatory steps, his silhouette so similar to Kyrax’s it made something deep inside her rebel.

How dare he? Kyrax will destroy him.

Morgan stumbled back instinctively—then caught herself. Running wouldn’t help. Running was pointless. Her pulse pounded in her ears.

She pushed the thought outward, frantic and focused.

Something’s wrong, Kyrax. Something’s happening. Intruders.

The reply came instantly.

I hear you. Hold on.

Shock rippled through her—he had answered, truly answered—but she had no chance to dwell on it.

Because the largest intruder reached her.

He extended a hand and seized her by the arm, his grip vice-tight. Pain flared. She twisted, kicked, fought with her newfound strength—but it was like striking a wall. He hauled her toward him with effortless power, his other hand reaching to grip her neck.

A Vykan. It had to be.