Page 4 of The Huntmaster

My blood turned to ice. I wasn't alone. I hadn't been alone since I crawled out of the wreckage. I was being tracked.

Fuck…

I backed away from the pool, my hand searching the ground for a weapon, a rock, anything—but there was only the soft, warm moss. The shadow on the ridge vanished, but the feeling of eyes remained. Heavy, predatory eyes that could surely see the gold of my hair and the magenta trail of my fear glowing beneath my feet.

I didn't drink. I couldn't risk the vulnerability. I turned and began to scramble back up the ravine, the pain in my shoulder forgotten as adrenaline flooded my system. I needed to hide. I needed to get back to the ship, even if it was a tomb.

Because out here, in the forest, I wasn't the scientist anymore.

I was the specimen.

Chapter 2

Lyra

The sky didn't fade to black. It bruised.

As the suns dipped below the horizon, the violet mists thickened into a deep, electric indigo. But the darkness I expected never came. Instead, the forest woke up. Every leaf and every blade of iron-grass began to glow with a soft, ethereal luminescence. The teal moss beneath my feet intensified until it was a vibrant, neon sea, and the flowers that had been translucent during the day now pulsed with internal fires of orange and hot pink.

It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. And it was exactly what was going to get me killed.

"Great," I whispered, my voice cracking as I huddled into the hollow of a massive, buttressed root. "I’m stranded on a planet that doubles as a giant neon sign. Why would I ever need stealth? Stealth is for people who actually want to live."

I clutched my throbbing left arm. My flight suit was damp with sweat and the strange, humid dew of the forest. I looked down at the magenta light glowing beneath my thighs. Every time I shifted, the moss flared, announcing my position to anything within a mile.

Click.

The sound was closer now. Much closer.

These weren't random sounds... What the hell? Whatever is out there, it’s communicating. I sat perfectly still, holding my breath until my lungs screamed. From the shadows to my left, a rhythmic tapping started—three fast beats, then a long, low whistle.

Click. Click-click. Trill.

An answer came from the right, directly behind the tree I was using for shelter.

My heart hammered against my ribs so hard I was sure the planet could feel it. I wasn't just being followed; I was being cornered. I leaned my head back against the bark for a moment, until my eyes caught on the clump of hair that's snagged on a branch earlier—it sat on the moss like a pile of fallen stars.

Suddenly, the rustling in the canopy stopped. The insects went silent.

I looked up.

High above, in the tangled mess of violet vines and leaves, I saw them. Amber eyes. Not just one pair, but several, blinking slowly in the dark. They didn't glow; they reflected the neon forest floor, shimmering like polished gemstones.

One pair was lower than the rest. It was huge.

Panic, cold and absolute, finally snapped the last thread of my logic. I scrambled out of the hollow, ignoring the white-hot flare of agony in my shoulder. I didn't have a plan. I just had the primal urge to not be there when that shadow reached the ground.

I broke into a sprint, each step sent out a massive shockwave of magenta light, a literal trail of breadcrumbs. I ducked under a low-hanging limb, the rough bark scraping my cheek, and plunged into a thicket of giant ferns.

The clicking intensified. It was all around me now—a frantic, high-pitched staccato. I burst through a curtain of weeping vines and found myself on the edge of a steep embankment. My feet slipped on the slick, glowing moss, and I went down hard. I rolled, tumbling down the slope, branches tearing at my already ruined gear, until I came to a sudden stop. My vision clouded by colourful spots as I tried to gather enough composure to pull myself up—to keep moving away from those…things. Yet, as my hand searched for support, it was met by something that felt like cold, wet silk.

I looked up and realised I had fallen into a grove of golden, weeping vines. They hung from the canopy like shimmering nooses, dripping with a thick, honey-like sap.

I tried to back away, but the vines were sensitive to the heat of my panicked body. They didn't just hang; they reached.

A vine lashed out, coiling around my right ankle with the speed of a whip.

"Shit!" I hissed, kicking out with my left leg.