Page 5

CHAPTER FOUR

T he Xenobeast’s roar echoed through the ancient ruins, vibrating the very air around him.

Victory surged through his veins as he stood over the dismembered carcass of the Trex’ik predator, its toxic blood steaming on the jungle floor.

He inhaled deeply, letting the primal satisfaction of the kill wash through him before turning toward the female.

She would be terrified now. They always were. He had been engineered to inspire terror before delivering death.

But when he turned, he found her crumpled unconscious on the stone floor instead.

Blood pooled beneath her leg where the Trex’ik had struck.

The three Graxlin pups circled her fallen form, their lavender fur standing on end, silver markings pulsing frantically as they emitted high-pitched squeals of distress.

Something cold and unfamiliar gripped his chest. He crossed the distance in three long strides, dropping to one knee beside her. Too late. He’d been too late to prevent her injury.

He’d been watching—he’d seen the Trex’ik approach and he’d seen her place herself between the predator and the pups with deliberate intent, her body language shifting from exhausted to alert in an instant.

Foolish. Brave. Doomed. The Trex’ik would tear through her defenses like they were nothing.

It would consume her and the pups before her makeshift weapon could even pierce its outer armor but she stood her ground.

No screaming. No panicking. No begging for mercy from a universe that offered none.

Instead she swung her branch as the creature lunged, the movement precise and controlled despite her injuries.

A direct hit. Impressive. Tactically sound, if ineffective. His assessment of her capabilities shifted upward.

The Trex-ik shrieked, a sound that could shatter eardrums, recoiling briefly before striking again with doubled fury. Its foreleg caught her across the thighs with devastating force, sending her crashing to the ground with a cry of pain that pierced through him like a physical blow.

Blood bloomed, bright and fresh against the dark ground. The scent filled the clearing—a beacon to every predator within miles.

The pups’ distress calls pierced the night, their tiny bodies scurrying to the female’s side. She struggled to rise, still trying to shield them with her body, as the Trex’ik loomed over her. Her determination was absolute, even in the face of certain death.

Something snapped inside him, and he launched from his perch, a blur of motion too fast for normal eyes to track.

He slammed into the Trex’ik with controlled fury, his claws finding the weak points between chitin plates with surgical precision.

The creature whirled, disoriented by the unexpected attack, its serrated limbs slashing air where he’d been a heartbeat before.

He circled, drawing it away from the female and pups with deliberate movements.

The Trex’ik lunged again, all eight limbs extended for the kill.

This time, he met it head-on, catching its striking limbs in his hands.

Chitin cracked under pressure. Toxic ichor sprayed across his chest, sizzling against his skin.

Pain flared as one serrated edge sliced his shoulder, cutting deep into muscle. He ignored it completely. Pain was irrelevant. The mission parameters had changed.

Protect. Defend. Eliminate threat.

He drove the creature back with methodical violence, matching its speed, exceeding its strength.

His claws found vulnerable joints between armor plates.

His fangs tore through sensor organs with devastating precision.

The Trex’ik thrashed, its movements growing desperate as it recognized a superior predator—something it had never encountered before.

With one powerful motion, he wrenched its head from its thorax, severing the neural clusters that controlled its body. The massive form collapsed, limbs twitching in death spasms, ichor pooling beneath it.

Victory surged through him—primal, fierce, satisfying in a way combat hadn’t been for years. A roar tore from his throat, echoing through the forest like thunder. Warning to all predators: this territory is mine. These creatures are mine.

Mine.

The thought lingered, even as his senses expanded, seeking additional threats. There was no sound or scent of further dangers, so he turned his attention to the female, now lying ominously still. The pups scurried back and forth around her, their frantic squeals a mixture of terror and desperation.

He reached toward her wound, assessing the damage. Deep, but not fatal if treated quickly. Her skin was pale, her breathing shallow. Too late. He’d hesitated too long before intervening and he’d been too late to prevent her injury.

The realization angered him, but then the anger shifted, redirected inward. Why did he care? She was nothing to him. Just another off-worlder who would die on this planet like all the others. He should leave her. Return to the solitude he’d carved for himself in this hostile world.

But one of his tendrils had already curved possessively around her wrist as the largest Graxlin pup bumped against his hand, chirping urgently.

Its tiny paws pressed against his skin, bioluminescent markings pulsing in distress.

The female had protected them. Had placed herself between them and the predator without hesitation.

He exhaled slowly. He knew what he had to do.

He gently gathered her into his arms, cradling her wounded body against his chest. The pups chirped anxiously, clinging to her covering with tiny claws and he waited, allowing them to settle before rising to his full height, careful not to disturb them.

She weighed almost nothing against his chest. Small. Fragile. Warm. Her head rolled against his shoulder, exposing the vulnerable line of her throat—a display of unconscious trust that filled him with unexpected satisfaction.

His tendrils brushed her face with feather-light touches, absorbing the silky texture of her skin, the pattern of her breathing, the unique energy signature that had called to him across the forest. Something stirred inside him—a feeling without tactical value, dangerous and forbidden.

Something his creators had tried to eliminate with pain and reconditioning.

The pups’ markings pulsed once more, this time with a pattern he recognized: trust. Acceptance.

Family. One climbed higher on her body to peer at his face.

Huge dark eyes reflecting his own image back at him—not a monster, but a protector.

One tiny paw reached towards a tendril and he allowed the contact before rising, cradling her against his chest, as he headed deeper into the jungle.

The nearest of his lairs was less than a mile away—a cave system he’d modified for security and comfort. She needed treatment. The Trex’ik’s venom would spread if not neutralized.

The contact unsettled him. How long had it been since he’d touched another living being without violence?

His sensory tendrils stirred at the base of his skull, unfurling from their dormant state to investigate this new presence.

They brushed against her skin, feather-light, absorbing information his other senses couldn’t detect.

Her scent was unlike anything on this world—clean despite the dirt and blood, with complex undertones his brain couldn’t quite categorize.

Her skin was soft beneath his calloused palms, radiating warmth that seemed to seep into his own cooler flesh.

One tendril brushed across her cheek, tracing the curve of her jaw, while another wrapped gently around her wrist, monitoring her pulse.

He growled, forcing the tendrils back. This response was... unexpected. Unwelcome. He was designed for isolation. For hunting. Not for this protective instinct that surged through him with every soft breath she took.

The Graxlin pups chirped, nestling closer to her. They sensed something in her—something he was beginning to sense as well. An energy signature that called to them. Called to him.

By the time he reached the cave entrance, concealed behind a curtain of bioluminescent vines, his tendrils had betrayed him again, curling protectively around her shoulders and threading through her short, dark hair.

He snarled at himself, but didn’t pull them back this time because the connection seemed to stabilize her breathing.

Inside, he moved past the outer chamber—designed as a decoy for any predators that might track him—and into the true living space.

Here, the cave opened into a surprisingly comfortable area.

A bed of soft moss and woven fibers occupied one alcove.

A small fire pit sat in the center, ventilated by a natural chimney in the rock.

Various weapons and tools were scattered along the walls, alongside dried herbs and medicinal plants he’d learned to use through brutal trial and error.

His regenerative powers were impressive, but this was a deadly world.

He laid her carefully on the bed, his tendrils reluctantly releasing her.

The Graxlin pups immediately nestled against her, their tiny bodies providing warmth.

He gathered what he needed—healing moss with anti-venomous properties, clean water from his filtered supply, strips of soft fiber for binding.

He gently examined her wounds, relieved to see that the Trex’ik’s venom had barely entered her system—he’d killed it before it could deliver a full dose.

Still, the gashes on her leg were deep and he carefully removed her pants, cutting away the torn fabric with his claws to reveal more smooth golden skin.

Her body looked even smaller without her clothing, her limbs delicate but sweetly curved.

He brushed his fingertips over her bare leg, feeling the warmth of her skin, the softness.

He’d never experienced such a pleasure before, but his tendrils didn’t hesitate.

They reached for her, wrapping themselves around her legs and hips, stroking the smooth flesh and sending ripples of pleasure through him.

A low growl rumbled in his chest. Foolish.

He focused on cleansing her wounds, then covered them with healing moss, watching as it immediately began drawing out the poison, then secured it with strips of fiber. She whimpered softly but didn’t wake.

Throughout the process, his tendrils kept reaching for her, drawn to the soft curve of her neck, the warmth of her skin.

He forced them back repeatedly, growling at his own weakness.

But when he finished treating her wound and rose to move away, they curled forward again, stroking her cheek, her hair, her shoulder.

This time, he let them. Let them explore the unfamiliar texture of her skin, the rhythm of her breathing.

Let them absorb her scent, her warmth, the subtle electrical patterns of her brain as she slept.

Information flowed through the sensitive appendages, flooding his mind with data about this strange, soft creature who had stumbled into his territory.

He settled back on his haunches, watching her.

Something primal and possessive swelled in his chest as he surveyed her resting on his bed, in his territory, under his protection.

The feeling was alien—a forgotten instinct from whatever base species had contributed to his genetic makeup.

He’d been engineered to kill, not to protect. To hunt, not to nurture.

Yet here she was. And here he would keep her.

One of the Graxlin pups yawned, tiny teeth gleaming in the dim light, before curling tighter against her stomach. Another nestled into her neck, its silver markings pulsing in a slow, contented rhythm. The third watched him with huge, dark eyes, chittering softly before settling against her side.

They recognized something in her—something worth protecting.

The pups snuggled closer, their little bodies radiating contentment, and the sensation was...

Nice.

Still crouched next to her, he listened as the night sounds resumed outside—the distant cry of a flying predator, the rustle of nocturnal creatures in the underbrush. This world never rested. Never offered safety.

But in this space, his space, she would be safe. He would make it so.

His eyes gleamed in the darkness as he settled into his vigil. One tendril remained extended, curled protectively around her wrist, monitoring her pulse as she slept. His mind cataloged the new sensations, the unfamiliar emotions, filing them away for later examination.

For now, she was his to protect. His to heal. His to... keep?

The thought should have disturbed him. Instead, it filled him with a fierce, possessive pride that resonated through his entire being. He didn’t understand it. Wasn’t even sure he welcomed it.

But as the night deepened and her breathing steadied, he accepted it.

Mine , something primal whispered in the depths of his mind. Mine to protect.

He watched over her until dawn, his eyes never leaving her face, his senses attuned to every breath, every subtle shift of her body as she slept. And when the first light of the day cycle filtered through the vines, he was still there, still watching, still guarding what was now, inexplicably, his.