Page 124 of The Huntmaster

He took the socket end of the sky-metal arm and aligned it carefully with the healed stump near my wrist. With a soft click of brass pins and a tight pull of leather straps, he secured it into place.

I lifted the metal limb up toward the light, my breath hitching as I tentatively sent an impulse to digits that were no longer made of bone. The mechanical fingers moved. I froze, staring in complete disbelief before flexing them a second time, watching in awe as the gears turned smoothly. I slowly turned my wrist over, curling the metal into a tight, solid fist before opening my palm back up, completely speechless, transfixed by the seamless magic of it.

It didn't have five fingers like a human hand; Tyler had built it specifically for me, crafting one large, broad metal digit that perfectly mirrored the side of the hand I'd lost, perfectly matching the anatomy of my people.

A loud, startled laugh exploded from my chest. I flexed the mechanical hand again, watching the light catch the sky-metal, completely overwhelmed by the sudden, triumphant joy of having my limb back—even if it was made of metal instead of flesh!

"It's just a prototype, so don't go punching any trees just yet," Tyler warned, watching me with a satisfied grin. "It's the best I could do with the random crap and resources I managed to salvage."

"What kind of sorcery is this?!" I exclaimed, and before he could react, I wrapped my massive arms around him, lifting his sun-kissed frame right off the deck in a crushing, grateful hug!

"Whoa—hey! Get off me, you fucker!" Tyler yelped, awkwardly pushing against my chest until I set him back down on his feet.

He flushed slightly, lifting a hand to scratch the back of his neck as he looked away, his usual abrasive mask slipping just for a second.

"We're even now, alright?" Tyler muttered, his voice dropping into a quiet, honest tone. "It was my fault your hand got fucked up in the first place. So... yeah. We're even."

I looked at him, then down at the gleaming prosthetic resting at my side. The thumb twitched smoothly as I flexed my wrist.

"You owed me nothing, human," a mischievous smirk spread across my face as I flexed my new metal hand right in front of his nose. "But if this breaks, I am throwing you off the High Deck."

Tyler barked out a laugh, rolling his eyes as he turned to walk toward the lower bridges. "Try it, Toren. I'll just build a metal foot to kick your ass."

I watched him go, a quiet chuckle warming my chest. But as Tyler disappeared down the spiral steps, another shadow settled beside me.

Kaelen.

The Huntmaster still looked like carved iron... but now there was sunlight between the cracks. Four months ago, he'd held his dead mate in his arms, only for the Alu'un to return her to the light. Now, he and Lyra commanded a respect across the tribe that even the oldest elders couldn't question.

His golden eyes dropped to my wrist, resting on the gleaming sky-metal, and a low, approving rumble vibrated in his chest.

"So that is where the human has been disappearing to," Kaelen said, walking over to stand beside me. "Lyra has been wondering why he keeps to himself so much these past weeks—unless he is helping haul timber for the rebuilding, she barely sees him."

"He has been busy," I said, flexing my new metal digits with a swell of pride.

He stood silently next to me for a long moment, his golden eyes fixed on the distant horizon.

"You are quiet, Toren," Kaelen rumbled, his deep voice vibrating through the woven wood of the platform.

"Just taking it all in," I clicked lightly, flexing my new metal digits.

Kaelen let out a low, strange breath—one that sounded almost flustered, which was a rare sound for our fierce Huntmaster. He rubbed the back of his neck, his tail lashing the air once before settling.

"Lyra is... strange today," Kaelen said quietly, looking out at the sky. "Her human blood month has not come. She missed it."

I tilted my head at him, my brow furrowing in genuine confusion. "Her... blood month? The human cycle of shedding? Why would that concern you? Is she ill?"

"No," Kaelen said, a dark, heavy copper light flaring across his chest markings. "She explained it to me. It only stops when..." He paused, searching for the jagged words of her tongue. "When the body is making new life."

It took a beat, but as the words clicked in my mind, my eyes widened, and I let out a loud, high-frequency trill of shock. "That means she carries your offspring?!"

My tail lashed so violently I nearly knocked a basket from the platform.

THWACK.

"Lower your tone, foolish boy!"

Elder Valra appeared out of the shadows of the trunk, her blind, milky white eyes fixed sharply on my face as she pulled her petrified wooden staff back from where she'd just cracked it against my skull. I winced, rubbing the sore spot on my head and muttered a quick apology.