Page 5 of Survivor (A Space Pearl’s Treat #2)

We collided violently, exchanging punches.

Seibring wielded his claws with precision, each swipe mirroring the deadly arc of my knife blocking his blows.

We were evenly matched in his normal form.

Yet, beneath the hand that gripped his neck, I felt his muscles bulging and expanding.

He transformed, becoming taller and more imposing, his claws and fangs elongating into razor-sharp weapons, embodying the essence of a perfect predator.

With a shove, he sent me hurtling into a table, the impact resounding through the room.

At the sudden commotion, a diminutive blue creature sporting an absurdly puffy hat scurried from the kitchen.

His wide eyes took in the chaotic scene unfolding in the dining area, where furniture and dishes clattered amidst the mayhem.

With a shrill scream, he threw up his tiny hands before promptly dashing back out, his hat bobbing wildly with each hurried step.

Seizing the momentary distraction, I rolled to my feet. My fingers tightened around the long blade, the cool metal reassuring in my grasp. I reached over my shoulder and drew the curved sword from the sheath strapped to my back, the sound of steel sliding against leather resonating in the air.

We circled each other with the intensity of predators on the prowl, our eyes locked in a silent, fierce battle. Each movement was calculated, every step deliberate, as we each searched for an opening, a fleeting moment of vulnerability to exploit.

“Not bad,” Seibring smirked, shifting his massive shoulders, the blade-like claws that tipped his fingers glinting in the light. “I’m impressed, Cousin.”

“Then fight me with honor, Cousin,” I challenged, my gaze flickering over his shifted form, my intent clear.

Seibring threw back his head and laughed. “While I would love to kill you slowly, I need to retrieve the female before she can leave the station.”

He dove at me with a maniacal laugh, the metallic ring of my blades echoing against his razor-sharp claws and overwhelming strength.

He towered over me; a hulking figure of muscle and power and my muscles burned with the strain of battle.

Still, I refused to yield, my every strike and deflection fueled by determination.

Resolve coursed through me, giving my strength a boost. Not matter the ultimate outcome, I had to guarantee the human female enough time escape.

We broke apart and Seibring glared at me, his dark gaze transformed, twisting into something malevolent.

“While I respect your intent, Cousin, you will die knowing it was all for nothing,” he sneered, his expression growing more sinister.

“They say human females make excellent fuck toys if you can overlook the scent. I certainly intend to find out.”

The grotesque image his words painted made my skin crawl with revulsion.

Overcome with fury, I lunged at him, swinging my curved blade towards his head, only missing contact by a scintilla.

My slight miscalculation gave him an opening, and his arm lashed out, hand raking across my chest, claws tearing into my flesh.

I stumbled backward, a hot, wet stream of blood seeping across my chest. Not a killing blow, but I had no doubts about my fate.

I sent a silent prayer to the goddess, hoping fervently that the female had managed to escape.

Seibring advanced toward me, his claws poised and ready to strike.

The air seemed to freeze, except for a lingering trace of the human female’s scent that flowed through like a soft breeze.

It was a delicate aroma, sweet with an undercurrent of spice, a surprisingly pleasant fragrance to accompany my final moments.

“Stop right there, motherfucker!”

Seibring and I exchanged a surprised glance, which at any other time might prove humorous.

I stumbled to the side, trying to put a few steps between myself and my cousin while searching for the source of the voice.

At the back entrance to the dining room, the tiny human female stood poised with a large blaster gripped securely in her hands.

She held the weapon like she knew how to use it. .. and aimed it directly at Seibring.

“You killed them.” Her voice trembled, a fragile whisper that barely held together.

I noticed the tears cascading down her cheeks, leaving glistening trails on her pale skin.

Her eyes, wide and filled with a mix of horror and disbelief, bore into my cousin with an almost palpable intensity.

“You killed them and piled them up next to the dumpster like trash.”

I surmised she referred to her guards. I could only imagine the carnage Seibring had wrought upon them. He was known for brutality.

As for my cousin, he appeared almost amused.

“It was a bit of exercise, I’ll admit,” he drawled, smiling at the human female in what might have been an attempt to be charming.

“Exercise,” she reiterated, her voice a low growl as she bared her teeth.

Her eyes blazed with furious determination, and I watched her fingers tighten on the blaster.

Despite the seriousness of the moment, something about her stirred a deep, primal feeling within me—something ancient, unknown. .. and pleasant.

“Enough,” Seibring barked with a wave of his hand, the tips of his claws slinging droplets of my blood about the room. “While I find this amusing, the idea of a silly, stupid human....”

It couldn’t have taken more than a few seconds, yet everything unfolded as if time slowed to a crawl.

Seibring stalked toward the human female, his intentions clearly bent on menace.

I frantically scrambled to intercept him, desperate to shield her from harm.

The female’s eyes sharpened with determination as she focused on my cousin, pressing the solid stock of the blaster barrel firmly against her shoulder.

“Drop dead, you fucking asshole.”

The sound of blaster fire screamed through the air, a high-pitched zzzzt .

My gaze flickered rapidly between the female and my cousin, just in time to capture the utter disbelief painting Seibring’s features before he crumpled to the floor.

The acrid scent of burnt metal and scorched scales mingled with the smoke that curled and twisted toward the ceiling.

My focus snapped back to the human, my heart skipping a beat at the sight of despair etched across her face.

Her body trembled like a leaf caught in the wind.

With a tender touch, I carefully pried the blaster from her shaking fingers, feeling its cold weight.

A deep yearning welled up inside me. I wanted to gather her into my arms, to offer solace and wipe away the tears that glistened like dew on her cheeks.

Yet, I remained merely a stranger in her eyes.

“What is your name?” I murmured softly, my voice a gentle attempt to divert her gaze from where Seibring lay crumpled in a lifeless heap on the floor.

Her gaze snapped to mine, and the tip of her pink tongue darted nervously along her lips. “L—Lucy,” she stammered, her voice quivering. “My name is Lucy.”

“You did well, Lucy,” I replied, savoring the way her name rolled off my tongue.

“Who was he?” Her eyes drifted back to Seibring’s motionless form.

“Someone who would have hurt you... badly,” I told her, my voice steady and calm.

“Is he…?” she paused, swallowing hard, as if trying to push down a knot of revulsion. “Did I kill him?”

I glanced at the blaster in my hand, its sleek metal surface glinting under the dim light, confirming what I suspected. “No, the blaster is set to incapacitate, not kill.”

“Are you...?” she hesitated, her voice barely above a whisper, her small frame trembling with uncertainty. “Are you going to kill him?”

I glanced at my cousin, his features softened by unconsciousness, and sighed deeply. “Killing in worthy opponent in battle is one thing. Killing in cold blood is entirely different.”

Lucy nodded, her head moving slowly in agreement, her eyes still wide with fear.

Her eyes widened even more when she noticed the dark crimson stain seeping across my chest.

“Oh shit, you’re hurt,” she exclaimed, her voice a mix of concern and urgency.

“It’s nothing,” I assured her, exchanging the blaster I held for a wad of fabric napkins snatched from a nearby table. The wound was bleeding enough to be a nuisance, but I could tell the gash wasn’t deep. I stuffed the napkins between my vest and skin, letting it soak up the blood.

“We need to get you to the healer,” she insisted, her delicate fingers landing gently on my forearm. Her touch was cool, yet it seemed to impart a comforting warmth against my skin, a strange paradox that intrigued me.

“We need to go,” I told her, my eyes meeting hers as they widened with a combination of understanding and fear. “Seibring will not remain unconscious for long. We must be off the space station before he awakens.”

“We can call the station protectorate,” she suggested, her voice catching as she swallowed hard. I knew her thoughts were with her guards, who had already perished at Seibring’s hand.

“They cannot protect you,” I insisted firmly. “The only way to keep you safe from Seibring is to leave.”

I twisted my arm over in order to take her small hand into mine. It felt right, offering a moment of peaceful connection amidst the chaos.

Her eyes, a mesmerizing blend of brown, gold and green, shifted downward to where our fingers intertwined and held as if studying the connection. Slowly, her gaze traveled back to meet mine, and with a firm, deliberate nod, she put her life into my hands.

We slipped out the back of the restaurant only after Lucy insisted we stop by the kitchen to inform the chef of her departure.

The Framaddi chef was nowhere to be found.

I could only imagine him tearing down the space station’s corridors, his flamboyant hat flapping comically around his ears as he screamed in a frenzy.

I kept us hidden within the shadows, our movements silent and deliberate.

We needed to be gone long before Seibring stirred from unconsciousness, and the fewer eyes upon us, the better.

The space dock was located two floors below the restaurant, and we made our way quickly, keeping to the alleys and stairwells.

Once we arrived, I halted our progress beside a tower of crates, perfect for concealment, as I surveyed the vicinity around my ship.

The dock proved relatively deserted at this hour, a hushed stillness broken only by the distant clanging of machinery and the murmurs of a few workers.

A pair of Romvesian laborers meandered near my vessel, their dark gray skin glistening under the dim lights.

Yet, I couldn’t afford to assume they were merely dock workers, not with my cousin Seibring in the area.

My cousin was known to travel with a few cronies.

“We need another ship,” I muttered under my breath, my voice barely audible above the sounds of revving engines.

“What’s wrong with your ship?” Lucy’s voice was a low whisper. Her eyes darted nervously as she scanned the shadowy figures moving across the dock.

I gestured toward my sleek silver vessel and then to the two Romvesians standing nearby. “I can't be sure those two don’t work for my cousin,” I replied, a hint of unease creeping into my voice.

“Oh,” Lucy murmured, her gaze shifting through the area until it landed on a mid-sized freighter resting quietly in the nearby shadows. “What about that one?”

I examined the ship she pointed out with a curious eye. It was larger than mine, the exterior bearing the marks of age and use, yet it seemed sturdy enough.

“It belongs to the Verdesian ale vendor for the restaurant,” she said, a faint smile curving her lips, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “I happen to know he’s sleeping off a drunken night at the hotel.”

I stifled the urge to inquire how she was privy to the vendor’s nocturnal indulgences, deciding to save that question for a more opportune moment.

“Come,” I whispered urgently, gripping her hand tightly. We crept toward the freighter, slipping through the shadows and using the towering stacks of freight as our cover.

I held my breath until the ramp sealed shut behind us with a bone-chilling hiss, sealing us off from the chaos we’d left behind.

We squeezed through the corridor, our shoulders brushing against cold metal walls as we made our way to the cockpit.

I dropped into the pilot’s chair, the worn leather creaking beneath my weight, while Lucy settled behind me, her reflection ghostlike in the darkened viewscreen.

The vessel wasn’t Zarpazian—its controls slightly alien under my fingertips—but the universal language of spacefaring technology was on our side.

My fingers flew across the console, adrenaline sharpening my focus as I located the launch codes buried in the system.

Adopting a clipped, emotionless cadence hopefully emulating an Verdesian pilot, I transmitted our departure request, heart hammering in my chest as I waited for the response.

If fortune favored us, it would take Seibring some time to uncover our deception and I would have Lucy well away from danger.

The dock master fell for my pretense without hesitation, and moments later, we glided effortlessly through the massive metal doors, bursting into the boundless expanse of space. Finally, I let myself suck in a deep breath—a mix of relief and anticipation.

The blood from my chest wound had thoroughly soaked through the cloth napkins, creating a sticky, uncomfortable sensation against my skin.

Despite Zarpazians’ being remarkably fast healers, we bled just like anyone else.

I needed to locate a medi-unit to tend the wound, but my immediate priority was Lucy.

“Are you okay, Lucy?” I asked, turning the pilot’s chair towards her with a hopeful smile forming on my lips.

I relished being alone with her for reasons I couldn’t fathom.

However, my smile and excitement faded in a heartbeat when I caught sight of her standing a few feet away, her gaze unwavering as she held a small blaster pointed directly at my head.

It was one of the weapons Diarvet left for me, no doubt. Personally, I preferred blades.