Page 109 of The Huntmaster

Always, her faint, exhausted reply echoed back. Her fingers were knotted into the leather of my collar, her face buried in the crook of my neck. Even without looking, I could feel the thrum of the thick scar on her throat vibrating against my bare skin—the permanent mark of her sacrifice, pulsing in perfect, eerie tandem with the dying machine behind us.

"Move! Faster!" I roared ahead, my voice cutting through the deafening, mechanical shriek of the collapsing transmitter.

Ahead of us, Tyler was practically carrying Toren. The massive vanguard warrior was stumbling, his face a ghostly, ash-grey colour as he clutched his mutilated forearm to his ribs. Silver-dark blood was leaking through his thick fingers, painting the cavern floor with every dragging step he took. The remaining loyalist Vakra had scattered into the shadows, terrified of the tremors and the blinding crimson light now filling the chamber, leaving only the sound of our frantic boots echoing off the stone.

Behind us, a sound like shattering thunder cracked through the air.

I glanced over my shoulder. The massive white beam that had pierced the earth’s crust had completely warped. It was bleeding a volatile, erratic crimson now, the ancient console melting into a puddle of liquid slag under the sheer intensity of the power it had unleashed. The bedrock beneath the platform was fracturing, giant fissures yawning open and swallowing the ancient bone gates whole.

"The tunnel to the eastern ridge!" Toren grunted, his voice a wet, strained wheeze as he propped himself against the cavern wall with his good shoulder. He nodded toward a narrow, dark crevice in the stone. "It is tight... but it leads to the surface canopy. The primary gates will collapse before we reach them."

"Tyler, take the lead," I commanded, my golden alpha eyes cutting through the rising sulfur smoke as I tracked the path. "Get Toren through. Do not stop for anything."

The human male didn't hesitate. Despite the raw terror still vibrating in his scent, his jaw was set with a fierce, stubborn determination. He hooked his shoulder under Toren’s massive armpit, dug his boots into the dirt and hauled the heavy warrior into the narrow mouth of the tunnel.

I followed close behind, turning sideways to fit my broad shoulders through the jagged rock, keeping Lyra cradled high against my chest. The stone walls groaned around us, shifting violently as the transmitter’s tectonic fury rippled outward. Dust choked my throat, and the air grew freezing cold as the pressure from the surface began to bleed down into the depths.

For several agonising minutes, it was nothing but the sound of laboured breathing, the scraping of leather against rock, and the distant, muffled booms of the cavern collapsing behind us.

Then, the heavy scent of damp moss, rain, and fresh ozone hit my senses.

We burst through the narrow exit, tumbling out onto a high, rocky ledge hidden deep within the roots of the upper canopy. The cool, damp night air of the forest hit us instantly, cutting through the suffocating heat of the sulfur chambers.

"Over here! Help them!"

Mara’s sharp, commanding voice sliced through the darkness. A small contingent of vanguard warriors rushed forward from the shadows of the treeline, their blades drawn but instantly lowered as they recognised us. Tyler collapsed onto his knees, dragging Toren down with him onto a thick bed of ferns. The vanguard warrior let out a low, guttural grunt of pain, his eyes rolling back as his body finally began to succumb to the massive blood loss from his ruined arm.

"Healers, to Toren now!" I barked, my voice cracking with alpha authority as I carefully lowered Lyra's feet to the earth, though I kept an arm locked securely around her waist to anchor her. "Bind that arm and get him back to the camp's enclave before the tissue dies. Move!"

Two vanguard warriors instantly dropped beside Toren, their hands moving with practised, urgent precision as they applied a heavy compression wrap to stanch the silver flow, hauling the massive warrior between them and carried him down the ridge path.

Even as he was being hauled away, half-delirious and bleeding out, Toren managed to lift his heavy chin. He flashed a weak, bloody grin, his gaze drifting over to the exhausted human male standing beside the path. With a slow, dramatic effort, the massive vanguard warrior actually winked at him. "A bit less... muscle than my usual escorts," Toren wheezed, his voice a gravelly rasp. "But thank you, human, for getting me out."

Tyler let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh, wiping his blood-stained hands on his trousers as the warriors hurried past.

Emerging right behind them was Sky. The boy’s face was pale with an agonising, breathless worry—until his eyes locked onto Lyra in my arms.

"Lyra!" Sky breathed, a raw, choked sob cutting through his throat. He lunged forward, his hands trembling as he reached for her, but stopped dead in his tracks.

His eyes had dropped to her neck.

As we stepped fully into the open, the planet’s twin suns began to crest the distant horizon, casting their first brilliant, amber rays across the ridge. In the piercing dawn light, the mark Sila had left was stark and impossible to miss. But it wasn't just a ragged line of survival. Woven intricately through the thick silver scar tissue was a brilliant, shimmering thread of pure gold. It caught the suns, catching the light like liquid fire—a permanent, visual echo of our bond, bridging the power of the Alu'un with the untamed mark of my own alpha line.

Mara saw it next, her breath hitching in her throat, followed by the vanguard warriors who had halted in their tracks. They had all stood on the ridge. They had all clearly heard my anguished cries and the terrifying death-wail that had ripped from my chest moments before in the deep dark. They knew what that mark meant. They knew she had crossed the veil—and somehow, impossibly, had walked back.

Slowly, with a quiet, synchronised rustle of leather and armour, the vanguard warriors dropped to one knee. Mara bowed her head, her hand flat against her chest plate, and even Sky sank down onto the moss, his eyes wide with a mixture of profound reverence and tears.

Lyra shifted against my chest, her voice rough and strained as she looked around at the kneeling camp. "No... please, don't do that. Stand up. We're all still breathing; you don't need to kneel to me."

I couldn't help the low, rumbling chuckle that vibrated in my chest, a small, fierce smile breaking through the grime and blood on my face as I tightened my grip around her waist. "Let them, little star," I murmured against her hair, my eyes warm as I looked down at her. "Even a tree prince needs his queen."

Sky quickly closed the distance, throwing his arms carefully around Lyra’s waist and buried his face in her side as she stroked his hair with her uninjured hand.

Before anyone else could speak, a strange, unnatural silence rippled across the ridge.

The forest grew completely still. The usual night chorus of the nocturnal predators and shifting vines had entirely ceased, replaced by a heavy, suffocating weight in the atmosphere. High above the towering trees, the clouds had been torn open in a perfect, massive circle, blasted away by the concentrated beam of energy that had cut through the planet's crust.

Through the jagged tear in the sky, the dark void of the cosmos was entirely visible. A massive, pulsing ripple of violet and silver light was expanding across the stars like a drop of ink in clear water—the frequency of ruin, spreading outward into the deep, infinite dark, a silent beacon carrying the unique signature of our planet's core.