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15

HAWK

Leather bit into my shoulders. It wasn't pain, just pressure—a constant, chafing reminder of the harness. A reminder of him.

I’d slept in the damned thing.

My fingers traced the tight, intricate stitching—his work—as I walked. Hours spent on it. For me. The implications sent a dizzying warmth flooding my veins, unwelcome and undeniable.

"You’re a fool," I muttered, forcing my boots faster over the stone. Ahead, heat crystals embedded in the rock ceiling pulsed, throwing waves of dull orange light that painted my shadow long and skeletal on the wall. It rippled, distorted as I moved. It was unrecognizable.

Like me.

Khorlar’s weight seemed to press down even now, settling heavy. His scent clung to my skin despite scrubbing. His taste, sharp and metallic, still coated my tongue. The memory of rough scales scraping mine, the furnace heat of his body, the molten gold intensity of his eyes … those were memories that wouldn't fade.

Mine.

It was his claim. A brand seared into my mind. What terrified me more was the treacherous part of me that wanted it.

Ahead, the corridor opened into the central chamber. Voices drifted out—Selene’s measured calm, a counterpoint to Eden’s rapid-fire chatter. This was home base. My people. The anchor I needed against the current threatening to pull me under.

I paused just inside the threshold, scanning. It was habit. I assessed the room. Eden’s chaotic sprawl of tech—scavenged guts of our transport gleaming under the heat crystals. Kaiya was hunched over glowing samples, muttering something I didn't understand. Selene, efficient as ever, was sorting medical supplies near the far wall.

"Look who decided to grace us," Lexa called out, spotting me. Her grin was sharp, all teeth, barely reaching her eyes. "Enjoying your private suite while the rest of us slum it?"

The words landed like tiny darts. I forced my own smile, thin as cracked ice. "Hardly a five-star resort."

Selene looked up then, her gaze sweeping over me, pausing fractionally on the harness visible beneath my open jacket. That quiet, assessing stare missed nothing. Understanding flickered there. Or maybe pity. Worse.

"New gear?" she asked, her voice soft. It was too soft.

Heat flared up my neck, hot and prickly. "A flight harness." I aimed for casual, landed somewhere near a cornered animal.

“Custom?” Selene’s hands stilled over a roll of bandages. "Khorlar’s work?"

Damn it. "How?—"

"The stitching," she cut me off smoothly. "Vyne mentioned warriors develop unique patterns. Like a signature."

Perfect. It was a brand. My face burned. "It’s … practical."

"Of course." Her smile was infuriatingly gentle. There was no judgment, just quiet knowledge. Worse than any accusation.

"Vega?" I asked, needing to shift the focus off me. Off the harness. Off him. "Has anyone seen her lately?"

Eden glanced up, pushing stray wires aside. "She said she was going to the lower passageways. She said something about checking exits."

A cold fist clenched in my gut. Vega alone. Near potential escape routes. After our fight. After her obsession with finding other survivors.

"Kira and Reika?" The question felt tight in my throat.

Lexa frowned. "I haven’t seen Kira since yesterday."

Yesterday? The fist tightened.

"She asked Vyne for border territory maps," Selene added, her movements slowing, concern finally showing in the set of her shoulders.

Alarm bells started ringing loud in my head. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me." I breathed the words. The pieces slammed together. Ugly. Sharp.

"You don’t think—" Selene started.

The door crashed open. It was Vega. Her chest heaving, face stark white under the orange glow. Wild panic in her eyes. Locked on mine.

“Kira’s gone.” She was panting. Raw. "I searched everywhere. The training grounds. The mess. Even the freaking temple courtyard. Gone."

Silence crushed us. It was heavy. Suffocating. Eden’s tools clattered against the table, the sound sharp in the stillness. Lexa swore.

"When?" My voice felt distant, scraped raw.

"Last night." Vega’s voice frayed at the edges. "She packed supplies. Weapons."

Selene whispered it, the awful truth dawning. "Her sister."

"Ignarath rumors ," I finished, ice spreading through my veins. The infirmary. My words. My focus on Khorlar. Driving her away. "She went after her." Goddamn it. "Because you—" Now was not the time for a fight.

"We go. Now." Vega’s hand flashed to the knife at her hip. Primal instinct. "Before the trail vanishes."

"Hold up," I snapped, hands raised. Defensive. Trying to regain control I didn't feel. "We need a fucking plan. Backup." How many times did I have to say this?

Vega’s eyes blazed. "Backup? Your lizard man? The Council scheming to trade us like cattle?"

"We can’t just storm Ignarath territory!" The words ripped out, raw with frustration and fear. "Not after that scout nearly gutted me!"

"While we debate strategy, Kira’s out there!" Vega shot back, desperation cracking her voice. "Captured. Or worse."

"Or dead," Lexa added, her voice flat. Brutal truth.

Silence fell again, thick with unspoken fears.

"Tell Darrokar," Selene urged, her calm a frayed lifeline in the rising panic. "Khorlar. Vyne. Rath. All of them. They're on our side. They know the terrain?—"

"There's no time!" Vega slashed the air with her hand. "And no guarantee they’d help. Not with politics poisoning everything."

She wasn’t necessarily wrong. The fractures in the Council. The Temple pressure. Khorlar … compromised. Because of me.

But four of us were mated to Drakarn now. That had to count for something. They wouldn't just abandon us.

My hand scrubbed down my face, grit stinging my eyes. Duty. Loyalty. Responsibility. A crushing weight, stealing the air from my lungs.

"You need gear," I forced out, the word tasting like ash. Hating the compromise. Hating myself. "Scout only . Find her trail. That’s it. No engagement. Then you report back." If we had actionable intel, someone would help. I had to believe that.

Relief flooded Vega’s face. Too fast. Too absolute. "Thank you."

"Any trouble," I warned, pinning her with my gaze, "any hint—you come straight back. We get Khorlar. Darrokar. Whatever it takes."

"Agreed." I didn't believe her. And a big part of me thought I should go with her. Selene was looking worried, and no doubt word of this would get to the Drakarn soon enough.

"Rations," Lexa said, already moving. "Water."

Twenty minutes felt like an hour etched in stone. Vega was in light armor salvaged from the crash. She had a knife, enough water for a day, and as much information as we could give her.

This was a huge mistake.

Still, I led the way to one of the easier to access exits.

The lower corridors descended into deeper shadow. Heat crystals were sparse there, leaving stretches of near-total blackness between pools of sullen light. Our boots echoed, too loud in the quiet. The stone walls felt rough, damp under my questing fingers. Vega moved with tense certainty, weaving through the passages like she owned them. She knew these ways. Too well.

"You’ve been down here before," I accused, voice low.

She didn’t look back. "I've done some contingency planning." Her silhouette was rigid in the gloom ahead.

"For you and Kira doing something stupid?"

A humorless twist of her lips was barely visible. "Or you."

The passage narrowed again, the ceiling pressing down, stealing air. Breathing felt tight. We moved by touch, fingers scraping rough-hewn stone. I wanted to find this exit and watch her go, assure myself that at least the first part of this harebrained scheme would work.

Then I was running back and telling Khorlar everything. Vega would hate me for it, but I couldn't see another way.

A shift in the shadows ahead. It was larger than human. Dense. Solid.

Vega surged forward, hope making her reckless. "Kira?" She rounded the blind corner before I could grab her.

"Vega, wait!" I hissed, lunging after her, the harness cinching tight across my ribs as I ran. Another bend and?—

Solid impact. It was Vega’s back. Rigid. Frozen.

She was staring into the dark filling the narrow passage. Filling it completely.

I didn't need to see to know who it was.

Khorlar.

Light flared around him, a portable heat crystal almost blinding for a moment.

His wings were folded impossibly tight in the confined space, gray scales absorbing the faint, distant light like a void. His heat radiated out, a physical wave washing over us, making the air shimmer. His eyes burned, molten gold embers in the gloom, locking onto me. Fixing on the gear. The barely concealed weapons. The intent was clear on my face.

His nostrils flared, sampling the air—our sweat, our fear, our purpose.

Something shifted behind those eyes. It was something cold. Terrible.

"Going somewhere, vrakasha ?"

His voice. Oh gods. It wasn't loud. Low. A deep rumble that pulsed through the stone floor, up my legs, into my teeth. Eerily calm. Deadly calm.

The world compressed. Just us three. Vega was vibrating with desperate tension beside me. Khorlar was radiating barely leashed fury before us, a physical pressure against my skin. And me. I was impaled between them.

"Kira," I managed to say, lifting my chin, forcing the word out past the constriction in my throat. "She's missing." The words were all wrong, but nothing could be right, not right now.

His gaze flicked to Vega, dismissive, then snapped back to me. It was hard. Accusing. "And you chose not to inform me."

It was not a question. A blade twisting slow and deep.

“There was no time,” Vega spat, stepping forward instinctively, putting herself slightly between us. "She could be all the way to?—"

“And you intended to follow?” Khorlar cut her off, the calm cracking like ice under pressure. His voice dropped lower, harsher, scraping like stone on stone. Scales rippled along his neck and shoulders, catching faint highlights. "Into oblivion?"

"Just scouting," I tried, the lie pathetic and thin on my tongue. Useless.

His jaw clenched, the sound audible in the sudden, ringing silence. It was sharp. "Lies. Do. Not. Suit. You. Hawk."

My real name. Not the intimate vrakasha. A slap. It was harder than any physical blow. My breath hitched.

“You don't—” I started, desperate.

“No?” His tail slammed against the stone wall behind him.

CRACK.

The sound echoed like a gunshot in the tight space, making me flinch.

"Explain, then. Why my mate prepares to abandon our quarters? To flee into enemy territory? Without a word?"

Mate.

The word detonated in the space between us. Burning heat flooded my face. Vega’s sharp intake of breath beside me. Exposed. Raw. Laid bare under that burning gold stare.

“Your mate doesn't need permission," Vega snarled, moving fully in front of me now. Protective. Reckless. Facing down a storm. "She's not property."

“Vega—” My warning died in my throat.

Too late. The leash snapped.

A growl ripped from Khorlar’s chest, a subterranean vibration shaking the air, the rock, my bones. His wings flared wide, powerful muscles bunching, the sharp edges scraping stone, boxing us in further. Scales darkened, shifting like storm clouds gathering for violence. The air grew thick with his scent, sharp ozone and raw, unrestrained fury.

“You know nothing ," he snarled, fangs flashing white against black scales in the dimness. "Nothing of our bond. Nothing of what waits beyond these borders. You push her toward death and call it loyalty?"

“We're saving a life!" Vega yelled back, defiant, but her hand trembled near her knife.

“By sacrificing two more?” His voice dropped again, silk over razors, terrifying in its softness. "The Ignarath do not capture, little fool. They erase. And you …" His burning gaze found me again, slicing through Vega’s defiance. The fury underneath bled raw pain. Hurt. Betrayal. "You would throw away everything? Everything we are building? Everything you are to me?"

The harness felt like iron bands now, crushing my ribs, stealing my breath. His gift. His claim. Pressed against my heart while I stood ready to shatter his trust.

"I wasn't …" How could I even say it? Did it even matter? "She's my responsibility. My people."

Something fractured in his gaze then. It shattered like breaking obsidian. "And what am I?"

The question struck like a physical blow, knocking the air from my lungs. Breathless. What was he? Captor. Protector. Ally. Lover. Enemy? The lines blurred into an unbearable knot tightening deep inside me.

"We're wasting time!" Vega hissed, desperate, glancing nervously down the dark corridor behind us. "Kira?—"

Khorlar didn’t look away from me. He didn't blink. He was waiting. Demanding an answer I didn't have. Couldn't give. The silence stretched, suffocating, filled with the weight of everything broken between us.

"Please," I choked out, unsure what I begged for. Mercy? Understanding? Release?

His face became stone. Scales pulled taut over bone. Decision hardening his eyes into impenetrable gold shields.

"You're not going anywhere," he declared, voice absolute. Final. Like rock grinding against rock. "Not alone. Not like this."

Vega tensed beside me, her hand tightening on her knife hilt. She was ready to fight a force of nature.

Fear, cold and sharp, pierced through me. Not for me. For Vega. For him. For the explosion waiting to happen in this suffocatingly small space.

And me, the catalyst, caught in the middle. Torn. Bleeding.