Page 133 of Pets in Space 10

Tyvaron

Ishould have said no. I should have insisted she stay, where it was safe – if such a place even existed on Kalumbu. But the words had caught in my throat, strangled by something unfamiliar.

Hope.

Hazel, the tiny flame at the heart of all this chaos, had made a choice. Not because I asked. Not because I commanded. But because she wanted to.

That alone unravelled something in me.

She didn’t understand what we would face.

The climb would be hard, the storms fierce.

The watchers might still patrol the skies.

The facility – the place where they made me – was likely guarded by ancient machines and worse.

Remnants of the experiments. Failures. Things not fit to survive, yet too useful to destroy.

I curled my tail beside me, careful not to let it brush her by accident. Even now, every inch of me felt too sharp, too vast, too dangerous. But she was not afraid.

She stood with a slight groan, stretching her arms above her head. Was she injured? Was she in pain?

I scented the air for the smell of blood. There was none.

“Are you hurt?” I asked sharply.

“Just sore and bruised. Nothing, really. Should we go soon?”

I nodded, though my wings trembled with the effort.

“I need a little more time,” I murmured.

“My strength returns, but slowly. The damage runs deep. I am not able to fly yet. And you will have noticed that the only way out of this cave is to fly – at least for me. You might escape through the many tunnels, guided by the little one, but I would not be able to follow.”

She nodded in return, crouching beside the little one who trilled sleepily in response.

The chii had gone as silently as they arrived.

I could still feel the echo of their touch in my mind, like a gentle wind brushing through the ashes of something ancient.

They had given me clarity. They had broken the chains around my mind and my memories, giving me freedom I’d thought lost forever.

But I would have to fight for what came next on my own.

Hazel sat with her back against the stone wall, knees drawn to her chest. She watched the morning light creep slowly through the cave’s wide mouth, filtering through mist and smoke.

“Tell me more about where we’re going,” she said eventually.

I took a breath.

“It is called Tel-Vhar, though I don’t know what that name even means. It was hidden in the mountains long ago, shielded from both sky and sensors, built by people who came before us. Only the masters and their creations know how to find it.”

“And you remember the way?”

“I will.” I closed my eyes briefly. “Pieces are returning. Directions etched into bone. They left nothing to chance when they made us. In the beginning, they would summon us there regularly. For upgrades. For punishments. For experiments. But I have not been back in many planetary rotations. I half-wonder if they abandoned it when they focused more on the Trials rather than us abominations.”

Her expression was unreadable. “And what happens if we get there… and it’s not abandoned?”

I opened my eyes again. “Then I burn it to the ground.”

She didn’t flinch.

“I hope it won’t come to that,” she murmured. “But if it does… I’ll be beside you.”

The words hit me harder than I expected.

No one had stood beside me before.

Not since I lost myself.

Not until her.

I lowered my head, just enough to watch her from the side, unsure what to do with the storm churning inside me. She was by my side. My ally. My…

I did not dare think that word.

I shifted my weight and winced. My wing ached where torn metal still fused imperfectly with bone. I would have to rest more before we could attempt the ascent.

"You will need protection," I said quietly. "Clothing. Supplies. The cold grows fierce the higher we climb."

She gave me a small, crooked smile. “If you haven’t noticed, I don’t exactly have a wardrobe right now.”

My eyes swept over her body, seeing what I had tried to ignore.

She was entirely naked, her pale scale-less skin so very soft and vulnerable, yet she held herself with confidence and determination.

A flicker of possessiveness stirred inside me, primal and instinctive.

She was so small. So without any means to protect herself.

And yet she was not weak in the slightest.

I pulled my gaze away from her full breasts and the triangle of curls between her legs. I did not deserve to look there. I was not worthy of her beauty and strength.

I was a monster.

She was innocence and beauty and salvation.

"You will not go into the mountains like this," I rumbled. "I will find something. There are caves – near the edge of the forest – too small for me to enter, but the little one has scouted them for me. Old supplies were once stored there. Emergency packs, left by the masters. Perhaps they remain."

She nodded. “Good. Because I’m freezing, and I refuse to face evil lab scientists with my arse on display.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. So I let out a quiet huff, a sound she might one day recognize as laughter.

"How long until you can fly?" she asked, her voice softer now. Concern threaded through it like gold in stone.

"Tomorrow, maybe. Two days at most," I said. "I will need rest, food, and fire to speed my healing."

"And how exactly do you eat?"

I bared my teeth, amused by her wary glance.

"Not you," I promised.

"That’s not what I asked."

"There are creatures in the lower valleys. Some small, some large. I can hunt when we leave the cave. Before, the little one will have to share its stores with me. It won’t be more than a small snack for me, but hopefully, it will be enough.”

“Can I help in any way?” she asked.

“Yes, you can. I need fire. I have enough in me to create sparks. The moss growing in these tunnels is flammable, when removed from the walls. If you are feeling up to it, you could gather some in a pile for me to set alight.”

Hazel’s breath caught slightly, and then she nodded again. “Alright. You rest, I’ll see what I can find in the caves.”

"Stay close," I warned, sharper than intended. "Those tunnels go deep. Not all of them are safe."

She gave me a look that might have melted stone. “I might be small, lizard boy, but I’m not stupid.”

Lizard boy?

I blinked at her, unsure whether to growl or laugh.

She stood slowly, stretching again, and began walking towards one of the smaller tunnels, the little one bouncing after her with a joyful little puff of smoke.

In her own language, I asked her to bring some of the meat she had stashed away in one of the caves.

She had learned quickly that I had an appetite as large as my beastly form, so she kept her own food where I could not reach it.

I watched them go, the scent of her lingering like sunlight in the back of my throat.

She would go with me. Even into the place where my nightmares were born.

That meant more than I could put into words.

***

The two females returned just when I had finished drinking my fill from the cave's natural spring.

Hazel emerged from the tunnel with a determined expression and a bundle of moss in her arms, her skin covered in fine cave dust and her hair damp with exertion. The little one flapped behind her with a victorious chirp, clutching a stack of dried meat in her tiny claws.

It wouldn’t even be enough for one proper bite.

“Is this enough?” Hazel asked, dropping the moss onto the stone with a grunt. “It was all I could carry.”

“It is perfect,” I said. My voice came out softer than I intended. “Thank you.”

She gave me a wary glance, then her mouth curved into a tired smile. “You’re welcome.”

I shifted, stretching out one foreleg and opening my palm.

A low rumble built in my chest as I summoned a controlled pulse of heat.

The fire was weak inside me. I had used up most of it in the attack and with every rotation that passed, it took longer for my fire to restore itself.

Maybe it had something to do with not having been summoned to Tel-Vhar in a long time.

A few sparks burst from my mouth, catching the dried moss instantly. It flared with a warm orange glow and began to crackle.

Hazel stepped back, wide-eyed but not afraid.

I breathed slowly, fanning the fire until it caught fully, then turned to the little one. She proudly looked at her tiny pile of meat - likely from one of the horned grazers that roamed the lower slopes. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that this was not enough for someone as large as me.

Hazel must have noticed my hesitation. “Do you want me to go back and get you more meat? I can carry more than Ruby.”

“I…” I hated to appear weak and needy in front of her, but without food, I would not be able to carry us to Tel-Vhar. “Yes. Please. If you can.”

She grinned at me. “Yes, I can. And I will. You look hungry and I’d rather not become dragon breakfast.”

Before I could reply, she hurried back into the tunnels, the little one following her with excited chirps. I wished I could follow. I wanted to be with her, every moment of every cycle. My heart burned to be close, feel her warmth, breathe in her scent. But I couldn’t.

I shifted slightly, moving closer to the fire. The heat warmed my scales, travelling deep into my body where the embers were waiting to be reignited.

The warmth made me sleepy. I had almost flown over the fuzzy bridge into the land of dreams when the females returned. Hazel carried a huge pile of dried meat, while the little one had switched roles and held some more cave moss. I couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

Hazel dropped the meat in front of me – the tiny stack that the little one had brought earlier had mysteriously disappeared in their absence – and I had to fight hard not to devour it all in one big bite.

But I was not the priority. She had not eaten anything since I had taken her to my cave. Hazel had to be starving.

“What does your kind eat?” I asked with genuine curiosity. “Do you like your meat raw?”

She snorted in amusement. “No. I mean, some people do like their steak bloody, but I’m a well-done sort of person. Honestly, I don’t eat much meat, I try to stick to vegetarian food except when I really crave a burger or a doner kebab.”

“Not all of these words make sense to me,” I admitted. “This meat has been dried, but I will roast it for you if you wish.”

I impaled several strips of meat on one of my claws and held them over the flames. My claws were not made for such a task, but I made them serve.

Hazel sat beside me, her knees pulled to her chest. The warmth of the fire painted her skin gold, and for a moment I forgot everything, including the pain.

The scent of roasting meat reminded me of my task. I turned my claws until the strips of meat were an even colour, before offering them to Hazel.

“I didn’t know dragons could cook,” she said with a smile. “I really appreciate you sharing your meal with me.”

I let out a quiet huff. “We are full of surprises.”

She glanced up at me, her expression unreadable. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know. I wanted to.”

I watched her take a careful bite.

Her eyes widened.

“This is actually good.”

I smiled again – a small thing, unfamiliar and strange on my draconic face. But I meant it.

“I will find you better food once I can hunt.”

She chewed thoughtfully, then looked up. “You don’t have to take care of me, you know.”

“I want to.”

Her breath caught. She didn’t answer – but she didn’t argue either.

I turned my gaze to the flames, letting the warmth soak into the metal along my limbs, into the aching bones beneath my scales. There was still so much to heal. So much to face.

But for now, she was fed. She was safe.

And that was enough.