Chapter 16
KAGE
The false signal hums faint in the cold air, pulsing from the transmission tower Bella patched together with spit, wires, and stubbornness. She made it sound convincing—injured survivors in a collapsed mine. Neutral enough that even an Alliance patrol wouldn’t ignore it.
She crouches low, tapping her wrist console with sharp little motions. The glow paints her freckles, her lips pressed thin.
“Transponder’s running,” she mutters. “If there’s a patrol in range, they’ll pick it up.”
I grunt, scanning the ridges. The wind scrapes sand against my scales, and the mountain smells of dust and iron. Beneath it all, though, something rank coils on the air. Acidic. Wrong.
Bella doesn’t notice it yet. But I do.
The dropship comes faster than I expect. Too fast. Its silhouette cuts through the gray sky, sleek lines glinting as it banks low.
“See?” Bella smirks, wiping her hands on her thighs. “Still got it. Dinner and a ride, courtesy of your friendly neighborhood medic.”
Her humor doesn’t reach me. My frills flare wide, every instinct thrumming. The ship’s descent is smooth—too smooth. I can’t smell the crew inside. No human sweat, no engine grease, no burnt rations. Only that acrid tang thickening as it touches down.
“Bella.” My voice comes out gravel.
She blinks, turning. “What?”
“Back.”
Her brow furrows. “It’s fine, it—”
“Back!” I roar.
The ship’s ramp hisses down.
And the air fills with skittering.
Spider-like machines pour out, black and silver, limbs clicking against metal. Their bodies pulse with tiny red lights, their eyes unblinking, their movements too fast, too precise. The stench of burning circuits and old meat wafts from them, sour and choking.
“Shit!” Bella yells, already firing her sidearm. Her bolts spark against the hull, leaving smoking divots, but the swarm doesn’t stop.
I shove myself between her and the tide just as one leaps, claws spread wide for her face. My body slams it from the air, crushing it beneath my weight. It shrieks like tearing steel before snapping silent.
More flood out. A river of claws and teeth.
We fight.
Bella doesn’t hesitate this time. Her hands are steady, precise.
She wields her medkit like a weapons cache—scalpels driven into joints, dermal lasers carving through limbs, bone saw roaring as it slices a drone in half.
Sparks and black ichor spray across her face, dripping down her cheek like war paint.
It’s beautiful. And terrifying.
I tear through the swarm, claws shredding, tail whipping bodies into the cliffside. A drone latches onto my arm, its mandibles grinding against my scales. I rip it free, slamming it into the ground until it crunches.
“Behind you!” she shouts.
I pivot, catching two in my claws before they reach her. Their limbs screech against stone until they’re pulp.
We move in sync. She calls targets, I destroy them. She sears gaps, I shove my weight through. Our rhythm is instinct, bond-driven, unspoken.
But for every one we drop, two more skitter from the ship.
The vessel shudders, engines whining. It lifts without a pilot, ramp still yawning wide. The swarm cuts off suddenly, retreating, flowing back inside as though pulled by a thread.
And then it’s gone. The ship rises high, vanishing into cloud, leaving only smoke, twitching parts, and silence behind.
Bella pants, chest heaving. Blood and oil streak her hands. Her eyes dart over the wreckage, wide, wild.
“What the hell was that?” she gasps.
“Nulegion,” I growl, spitting oil from my mouth. “It’s baiting us.”
She shakes her head, wiping her face with a trembling hand. “No. That was… it was mimicking evac protocols. That was—” Her voice cracks. “It wanted us to call it.”
The wind howls, dragging ash through the canyon. My claws dig into the dirt, fury burning hot and hollow in my chest.
Every time we reach for freedom, it moves to trap us. Not random. Not chance. It’s choosing.
And worse—its focus isn’t me. Not my parents. Not the Alliance.
It’s her.
I glance at Bella. She’s shaking, but steady. Fierce, even under terror. My chest aches with something sharp and possessive.
No.
I won’t lose her. I can’t.
Not after everything.
We retreat deeper into the mountains, silence thick. Bella keeps her weapon close, knuckles pale. I stay near her side, every sense straining, waiting for another ambush.
Night falls heavy, moonlight painting the cliffs in cold silver. We shelter under a jagged outcrop, a fire burning small and low. She falls asleep against the rock, exhaustion dragging her under.
I keep watch.
Her face glows soft in the firelight, lashes twitching, lips parted as she breathes. Her hand rests near mine, close enough I could touch if I let myself.
Instead, I curl my claws into my palms, holding the ache in my chest.
I will tear Nulegion apart, limb by limb, byte by byte. I will burn every scrap of it to ash before I let it take her.
She is mine.
And I am hers.
Whether she admits it yet or not.