Page 12 of Hunted By the Dragon Alien

Ulo raised his head. His small, dark eyes turned toward the sound. “No,” he said. “No, not me. It’s not my turn.”

Sevas already knew what was coming. Her heart pounded as adrenaline surged through her aching limbs. She shifted to swing her legs off the bed, ignoring the sharp stabs of pain from, well, everywhere. “They’re not taking him,” she muttered under her breath, as her feet found the rungs in the ladder. She climbed down from the bunk, bare heels hitting the cold floor.

Takkian was suddenly there, in front of her. Blocking her. He rested one hand on her shoulder. His claws pressed just enough into her skin to emphasize his grip. “You can’t stop this,” he said, his voice low and commanding.

“We can’t just let them—” Sevas started, cutting herself off when she realized shadows stretched under the door. Her pulse spiked as the door lock disengaged and it slid open, revealing two mechs standing side by side. Their dull, silver exteriors looked scarred and smudged, but the glowing red eyes in their rectangular faces were as sharp as ever. One of them extended an appendage, ending in a crackling stun baton.

“Ulo, designator 98-D,” the mech closest to the door said in its artificial voice. “Your participation is required in today’s match. Follow immediately.”

Ulo pressed his bulky body against the cell wall, his hands raised instinctively. “I—I’m not ready,” he stammered, his voice breaking. The rocklike plates on his arms clattered faintly as they brushed the wall. “Please, I’m not ready.”

Sevas’ fists clenched. Her wounds screamed, but she locked onto Ulo, trying to drown out her own pain. “You heard him—he’s not ready. Take someone else,” she snapped.

The mechs didn’t even acknowledge her. The one with the stun baton extended its arm further, the hiss of its energy crackling like fresh lightning. “Noncompliance will result in disciplinary measures,” it droned. The artificial monotone of its voice sent a chill down her spine.

Sevas’ gaze darted to the massive juvenile. His hands visibly shook despite their rocky exterior. She couldn’t stand it—the look of terror etched into his face. She braced herself, ready to get around Takkian and launch forward. Anything to stop the mechs from dragging Ulo into the arena. Her muscles tightened like coiled springs, ignoring the bruises and cuts that pulled at her every movement.

But before she could take a step, Takkian shifted his body and clamped both hands on her hips, firmly planting himself between her and the mechs. She froze, whipping her head toward Takkian.

His bright eyes glowed with warning, his grip unrelenting. “Stop.”

Her body tensed against his hold, anger flaring hot and wild in her chest even as her body learned the feel of his hands on her hips, the spread of his fingers on her skin, and the heat his body gave off when he was this close. He smelled of metal and, interestingly, fire. “Let go of me,” she hissed, trying to wrench free. “I won’t let them—”

“You can’t fight them.” Takkian’s breath was rough and his words firm in her ear. “It’ll only get him killed faster. And you, too.”

“I don’t care—” Sevas started, her voice cracked with desperation.

“No.” Takkian leaned in. His voice dropped even lower at her ear. “You will care when the mech assigns all of us to final matches and leaves with him all the same. Think, Sevas. You’re smarter than this.”

His words cut through her rage just enough to freeze her in place as the larger mech rolled forward until its shadow loomed over the terrified juvenile. He was right. She couldn’t help Ulo by attacking the mechs. That course of action could make things worse for him.

Ulo’s trembling form went rigid as the mech’s cold appendage clamped onto his arm. For a moment, he froze. Every muscle in his massive frame appeared locked in fear. His gaze darted between the mech and Sevas, who was still locked in Takkian’s grasp. She could see his panic, the raw desperation etched into his rocky features, and it tore at her insides.

“Ulo,” Sevas called to him as she pulled against Takkian’s unyielding grip. “Don’t let them… Don’t…”

Ulo turned his gaze fully to her. His breath shuddered as the mech’s pull urged him forward. For a fleeting moment, Ulo looked like a trapped animal, cornered and helpless. Then, slowly, something shifted. His shoulders straightened just slightly, and his hands curled into hesitant fists.

“No.” His voice was shaky, but there was a steely thread beneath the fear. He looked down at Sevas. “It’s okay.” His voice trembled, but there was also unexpected calm. “You got through your first match. So will I.”

Sevas shook her head furiously. “No, Ulo, you don’t understand—”

“It’s my turn, Sevas.” His voice steadied. “I’ve watched you. I know I’m strong, but… I have to be brave, too.” He straightened further, standing to his full, towering height. For a moment, Sevas saw him not as a scared, uncertain boy, but as the powerful being that lay inside.

Sevas’ breath hitched in her throat as she stared up at him. There was such sincerity in his eyes, such determination—it crushed her. She wanted to scream, to fight the mechs and rip Ulo free, but Takkian’s words clawed at her mind. He was right. She couldn’t help Ulo like this. And now, Ulo was standing taller in spite of it all.

“I’ll watch out for myself.” Ulo’s voice was firmer as he turned his gaze to Bruil and Takkian. The juvenile straightened his back, facing the large Zaruxians with determination. “You told me to use my size, right? To stand like a fortress?” His rocky jaw trembled, but his voice didn’t waver. “I’ll… I’ll try to remember that.”

Takkian’s glowing eyes moved over Ulo’s form, his expression unreadable.

With a slow, deliberate nod, Bruil replied, “Don’t hesitate. And don’t turn your back on your opponent.” His tone was flat, but there was a weight to his words, one that spoke both of inevitability and…respect.

Ulo nodded. The mech tugged at his arm again, and this time, the juvenile followed without resistance. His movements were slow, deliberate, as though each step was a battle in itself. Sevas watched as he crossed the threshold of the cell, dwarfed even by the imposing presence of the machines escorting him.

“Ulo,” she called, trying to sound steady. He turned his broad head slightly, enough to glance back at her. “Survive.”

The corners of his rocky lips twitched upward, just enough to resemble a faint, trembling smile. “I will,” he rumbled softly before the mech’s clamp tightened, urging him forward. The celldoor slid shut with a metallic thud, the sound echoing in the suffocating silence that followed.

Sevas slumped, finding herself sitting on the edge of Bruil’s bunk. The tension spilled out of her body. The fight drained from her muscles all at once, leaving her shaking and hollow. Her palms throbbed where her nails had bitten into the skin, and the dull ache of her ribs flared up again, but none of it mattered. Her gaze remained locked on the now-closed door, her mind racing with thoughts of Ulo in the arena—alone, terrified, and likely outmatched.

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