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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

T he device felt wrong in his hands. Too sleek, too pristine—a gleaming intrusion in his world of salvage and survival. The Xenobeast turned it over, examining the polished metal surface with growing dread. Recognition crawled up his spine like ice.

He knew this design. The subtle hexagonal pattern etched into the casing, the matte black sensor array, the distinctive blue-tinted power cells. This was Zarkari military tech—high command issue. Not standard military. Not even special forces.

This was a command beacon. His claws traced the barely visible insignia stamped into the underside, and something ancient and violent stirred in his chest.

Vask D’ravak.

The name burned through his mind like acid. Commander Vask D’ravak—the Zarkari who had presided over his tribunal, who had pronounced him defective, who had ordered his exile to this death world. The one who had stripped him of his designation and branded him a failed experiment.

The beacon wasn’t just a warning. It was a signature. A taunt.

He crushed it in his hand, metal crumpling under the force of his grip. Shards bit into his palm, drawing rivulets of dark blood that dripped to the cave floor. He barely felt it.

“What is it?” Xara asked, her voice pulling him back from the red haze of memory.

He turned to her, forcing his face to remain impassive despite the storm raging inside him. “Danger,” he said simply. “Hide. Deep cave.”

Her eyes widened, but she didn’t argue. She gathered the pups quickly, murmuring reassurances as they chirped anxiously, sensing his distress. She hesitated at the entrance to the deeper chambers, looking back at him.

“Be careful,” she said.

He nodded once, then turned away, already mentally cataloging weapons, escape routes, defensive positions. He couldn’t afford distraction. Couldn’t afford the weakness that came with wanting to touch her, to breathe in her scent one more time.

When she was gone, he moved with cold efficiency.

First, he retrieved the cache of weapons he’d been maintaining since his exile—plasma blades, serrated hunting knives, projectile launchers cobbled together from salvaged tech.

He strapped them to his body, the familiar weight both comforting and grim.

Why was Vask here? After all these years? The Xenobeast had been declared dead, erased from the records. A failed prototype. Unless...

Understanding hit him like a physical blow. Not him. Her.

Xara was human—a species rare in this sector. Valuable. And now she was on his world, in his territory. The Zarkari must have tracked her shuttle, followed its trajectory to this planet. They weren’t here for a rogue weapon they thought long dead. They were here for her.

The thought made his blood boil. He would not let them take her. Would not let Vask’s cold, calculating hands anywhere near her.

Moving swiftly, he exited the cave complex and scaled the nearest cliff face, claws digging into rock as he pulled himself up with inhuman strength.

From this vantage point, he could see farther across the jungle.

The beacon had been placed deliberately—a warning, a challenge.

Vask was coming, but he wasn’t here yet.

Good. Time to prepare.

The Xenobeast descended and began a methodical circuit of the perimeter. He knew every inch of this territory—every cave entrance, every natural chokepoint, every deadly plant and predator. This had been his prison, but he had made it his domain.

First, he checked the northern approach—the most likely landing zone for a drop ship.

He activated ancient traps buried beneath the forest floor, rigging them with new triggers.

Pressure plates that would unleash clouds of toxic spores.

Tripwires connected to spring-loaded spikes harvested from the jungle’s deadliest predators.

At the eastern ravine, he loosened key support stones in the natural bridge. One well-placed shot would send the entire structure crashing down, taking any pursuers with it.

To the west, he cleared firing lines through the dense foliage, creating invisible kill zones where he could pick off intruders one by one.

All the while, he kept his distance from the cave. From her. He couldn’t risk leading them back to her. Couldn’t risk the distraction of her scent, her touch, the way she made him feel like more than the weapon they had created.

As darkness fell, he retrieved a buried cache of equipment—tech he had salvaged from his own drop pod years ago.

Most of it was damaged beyond repair, but a few pieces still functioned.

He found what he was looking for: a neural disruptor.

It wouldn’t kill a Zarkari soldier, but it would temporarily scramble their implants, rendering them vulnerable.

He worked through the night, his enhanced vision allowing him to see as clearly as in daylight. By dawn, he had transformed the jungle into a killing field. Every approach to the cave system was trapped, every path rigged to funnel intruders exactly where he wanted them.

Still, a cold certainty settled in his gut. It wouldn’t be enough. Not against Vask’s elite forces. Not against the man who had helped create him, who knew his weaknesses, his design limitations.

The thought burned like poison. He had been built to serve, to kill on command. When he had refused to execute innocents, they had deemed him defective. A failure. They had thrown him away like a broken tool, expecting him to die on this hostile world.

Instead, he had survived. Adapted. Found something worth protecting.

Now Vask had returned to take that away too.

As the first light of dawn broke over the horizon, the Xenobeast caught movement at the edge of his vision—a flash of metal in the trees. He froze, every sense alert. There, half-hidden in the shadows: a scout drone, its optical sensors sweeping the forest floor.

He remained perfectly still, letting the drone pass overhead. They were searching, not attacking. Not yet. They didn’t know exactly where to find her.

But they would. Soon.

He followed the drone at a distance, tracking its search pattern.

It was methodical, thorough—typical Zarkari efficiency.

When it paused to scan a clearing, he struck.

One leap carried him onto its housing, claws digging into the metal shell.

He ripped out its transmitter before it could send an alert, then crushed its processor core.

One down. There would be more.

He returned to the cave as the sun climbed higher, slipping inside through a hidden entrance. He needed to check the interior defenses, to make sure Xara and the pups were secure.

He found her in the main chamber, the pups clustered around her feet as she sorted through supplies. She looked up when he entered, relief washing over her face.

“You’re back,” she said, moving toward him.

He held up a hand, stopping her. “Stay back.”

Hurt flashed in her eyes, quickly replaced by understanding. “You don’t want to lead them to us.”

He nodded, impressed by her perception. “Scout drones. Searching.”

“For me?” she asked, her voice steady despite the fear he could smell on her.

“Yes.”

“Why? I’m nobody important.”

“Human. Rare. Valuable.” He hesitated, then added, “Mine.”

Her eyes softened at that last word, and he felt a dangerous warmth spread through his chest. He couldn’t afford that now. Couldn’t afford the distraction of wanting to touch her, to hold her, to lose himself in her warmth.

“Who are they?” she asked.

“Zarkari. High Command.” He struggled to find the words, to explain. “My... creators.”

Understanding dawned in her eyes. “The ones who exiled you.”

He nodded once, then turned away, moving to check the cave’s secondary exits. He needed to make sure each was properly secured, properly trapped.

“The commander,” he said after a long silence. “Vask D’ravak. He ordered my exile.”

“And now he’s here,” she said, following his logic. “For me?”

“Yes.” He paused, then forced himself to say what needed to be said. “Should leave you. Draw them away.”

“No.” Her response was immediate, fierce. “We stay together.”

He turned to look at her, this small, fragile human who showed more courage than warriors twice her size. “Dangerous.”

“I don’t care.” She stepped closer, defying his earlier command to keep her distance. “This is our home. We defend it together.”

Our home. The words settled in his chest like a physical weight. He had never had a home before—only territory to defend, survival to secure. But she was right. This was their home now. Theirs to protect.

“Together,” he agreed, the word feeling strange on his tongue.

She smiled, that fierce, determined smile that had first caught his attention. Then she grew serious again. “Tell me what to do. How to help.”

He hesitated, torn between the need to keep her safe and the tactical advantage of having her assistance. Finally, practicality won out.

“Interior defenses,” he said. “Show you.”

For the next hour, he guided her through the cave system, showing her hidden passages, emergency exits, and defensive positions. She absorbed everything with remarkable speed, asking intelligent questions that sometimes surprised even him.

When they reached the deepest part of the cave, he showed her a narrow crevice hidden behind a fall of rock. “Last resort,” he explained. “Leads to underground river. Escape route.”

She nodded, memorizing its location. “And the pups?”

“Take them. If I fall.”

Pain flashed across her face at the thought, but she nodded again. “I will. But you won’t fall.”

Her confidence in him was both warming and terrifying. He was built for war, for killing—not for victory against impossible odds. Not for protecting those he... cared for.

As they made their way back to the main chamber, he caught a faint electronic signature—another drone, closer this time. Too close.

“Stay here,” he ordered, already moving toward the entrance.

“Be careful,” she called after him.

He paused at the threshold, looking back at her one last time. The urge to return to her, to hold her close, was almost overwhelming. Instead, he nodded once and slipped out into the jungle.

The drone was hovering just beyond the tree line, its sensors sweeping methodically across the terrain. It had found something—perhaps a trace of their scent, or a heat signature from the cave.

He circled behind it, moving with preternatural silence despite his size. When he was directly beneath it, he struck—leaping upward and catching it in mid-air. He crushed it in his hands before it could transmit, the metal crumpling like paper.

But the damage was done. They were getting closer. Narrowing their search grid.

Time was running out.

He returned to the cave entrance but didn’t go inside.

Instead, he scaled the cliff face above it, finding a hidden ledge with a clear view of the surrounding jungle.

From here, he could see the first signs of the approaching force—subtle disturbances in the foliage, the unnatural stillness of wildlife.

They were coming. And at their head would be Vask D’ravak—the man who had created him, then tried to destroy him when he proved to be more than a mindless weapon.

The Xenobeast settled into position, weapons ready. Let them come. He had been built for war. Engineered for killing. They had made him a perfect weapon, then discarded him when he refused to be merely a tool.

Now they would face what they had created. And he would show no mercy.

For Xara. For the pups. For the home they had built together.

For himself.