Page 25

KAIRON

T he sky bleeds pale pink as I break camp, the remnants of our fire still smoldering beneath the damp earth. I stamp out the last embers, the heat kissing my skin. I glance over at Ava, who stirs silently. She doesn't say much—just takes the water pouch I offer with a nod, her eyes downcast.

We slip back into the trees, shadows dancing in the dawn light. The jungle feels different today.

Or maybe it's me.

I can’t shake last night from my mind—the way she clung to me, her body warm and trembling against mine, the sounds that escaped her lips like a siren’s call.

It’s unsettling how those moments flicker through my thoughts, stealing focus from the path ahead.

I have to remind myself of who we are: enemies trapped in this mess together.

But as we move deeper into the thicket, I notice something has shifted around us. The vines hang less aggressively now; they part almost reverently as we pass. The underbrush thins out beneath our feet, revealing stones hidden by years of decay and neglect.

A rhythm pulses through this space—a heartbeat beneath layers of moss and dirt. It feels... ordered. Not chaotic like before.

I pause mid-step, brushing aside a thick vine that clings to my shoulder. My fingers graze against rough bark beneath it—etched with symbols I recognize all too well.

Precursor.

A chill creeps up my spine despite the warmth wrapping around us. This isn’t just any jungle; it’s a remnant of something greater—a forgotten world shaped by hands long gone but still echoing through time.

“Ava,” I call softly, motioning her closer without taking my eyes off the tree. She steps beside me, brow furrowing as she takes in the markings.

“What is it?” Her voice is cautious yet curious.

“Look.” I point to the symbol carved into the bark—a spiraled design resembling a star map twisted around itself like an eternal loop.

Her breath catches slightly as recognition flashes across her face. “It matches what the elder described.”

The jungle opens up, and the air shifts.

I step into a clearing, the dense foliage falling away to reveal what lies ahead.

My breath catches. Ruin fragments rise like ancient bones—pillars split by roots, stone slabs half-submerged in mud, smooth metal fused with rock.

Each piece whispers secrets of a past I can only dream about.

Then I see it.

The cliff face looms before us, massive and commanding.

Carved with precision, the structure resembles the mouth of a buried god, covered in moss and flowering vines that cling like memories refusing to let go.

It’s doorless but not destroyed, silent yet full of presence—watching us as if it knows our every thought.

A Precursor ruin. Dormant. Whole.

I stop cold, the hairs on my neck prickling. A hum resonates deep within—not from the air or the structure—but inside me.

I don’t move or speak. I just feel it.

Not fear. Not awe.

Recognition.

Not of the ruin itself, but of her .

I turn to Ava with a glance that holds more weight than words ever could. And suddenly, everything clicks into place—the gnawing desire that hasn’t faded, my body’s rebellion against harming her, how my instincts have realigned themselves around her like a protective shield.

She’s not just a complication or an object of desire.

She’s my Jalshagar.

My mate.

The realization settles in my chest like a brand—cold and final. It shocks me to my core, igniting something primal within that both terrifies and exhilarates me.

Her eyes widen as she takes in the sight of the ruin; they shimmer with curiosity and something deeper—perhaps hope? But it’s not that spark I focus on now; it’s her presence beside me that commands all my attention.

“Do you feel that?” she whispers, breaking the silence between us as she steps closer to the cliff face, fingers grazing over rough stone etched with familiar patterns.

“Yes,” I say quietly.

I take a breath—a steadying one—and step forward into the clearing where shadows linger beneath thick canopies overhead. The air thrums with energy as we stand together at this threshold of forgotten power and ancient ties; it hums beneath our feet and in our veins.

Fuck. I crash-land on a fucking jungle planet with my mate. A human.

I don’t tell her. I can't. Does she even understand the bond between mates? Would she even believe me?

Ava stands ahead, brushing hair from her face, lips slightly parted in wonder. The sight stirs something inside me—a mix of frustration and awe. I shouldn’t be feeling this way.

But I watch her longer than I should.

She steps closer to the ruin, fingers reaching out to trace the spiraled edge of the outer ring. As she leans in, she stumbles slightly on a ridge of stone.

Before she can fall, I’m there—hand on her waist, steadying her, warmth spreading between us like fire meeting dry grass.

Her gaze snaps up to mine, startled. For a heartbeat, everything else fades—the jungle sounds quiet down; the oppressive humidity seems to lift just for a moment.

I don’t let go right away.

Her eyes search my face—searching for something, though I’m not sure what it is. She opens her mouth as if to speak but nothing comes out.

“Ava,” I say softly, almost without thinking.

She blinks at me; something flickers behind her expression—a recognition that sends an unfamiliar heat curling in my gut.

But then I pull my hand back, forcing myself to stay controlled. This isn’t the time or place for distractions. We’re still stranded here with dangers lurking in the shadows of the jungle and echoes of a past that might threaten us both.

“Let’s see what we’re dealing with,” I say, keeping my tone steady as we step into the shadow of the ruin together.

The air shifts around us as we move beneath its ancient archway.

My instincts scream at me—the weight of history presses against my chest, and I feel the pull of something beyond mere survival.

Ava’s presence at my side complicates everything; it ignites a fire deep within me that feels impossible to extinguish.