Page 13 of Hunted By the Dragon Alien

Takkian moved to stand in front of her. His towering frame cast an imposing shadow. “It’s his fight now.”

Sevas snapped her gaze up to meet his. Anger flared hot and sudden in her chest, spilling out in a sharp burst. “It shouldn’tbehis fight!” she spat. Her voice trembled with barely contained fury. “He’s just a child, Takkian! He doesn’t know how to do this, and I—I couldn’t help him.”

Her voice cracked on the last word. Frustration and helplessness made her fists clench tightly, nails digging into her palms again. She couldn’t focus on the pain there—it was drowned out by the ache in her chest, worse than any wound Gimloria had left on her.

Takkian leaned down, making his gaze level with hers. “They were always going to take him. That choice was never yours. You would’ve just gotten yourself dragged out with him—and he would’ve had to watch you die first.”

His words hit her harder than she liked. They punched the air right out of her lungs, leaving her frozen as the reality of it settled into the raw edges of her thoughts. She hated that he was right. Hated it as much as she hated the Axis.

“But—” she started, her voice faltering.

“No,” Takkian cut her off, his voice firmer now. “You don’t get to waste what’s left of your strength beating yourself up about this. You survive for him. That’s how you help him.”

Sevas opened her mouth to argue, but his gaze pinned her in place. The intensity in his eyes wasn’t cruel—it wasn’t even angry, not really. It was commanding, demanding that she let go of the guilt that was tearing her apart.

Sevas stared at the door for what felt like an eternity. Her shoulders trembled under the weight of emotions that pressed against her like a boulder threatening to crush her. The guilt gnawed at her insides, sharp and relentless, but beneath the noise in her mind, something steadier rose. A spark. Faint at first, but growing brighter. For the first time since she’d been dragged into this nightmare, she felt something other than fear or rage. She felt purpose.

She sat up straighter, pressing her palms into the rough fabric of the bunk and steadying herself. Her ribs protested. Pain flared with the movement, but she forced herself to breathe through it. Her gaze moved to Takkian, who still stood before her. His silver gaze burned into hers.

“I’m done waiting.” Her voice was low and uneven but laced with a thread of steel. Her fingers curled over the edge of the bunk as she peered upward, meeting his gaze head-on. “I’m not going to just sit here and wait for the next match, or the next loss, or the next bloody face to haunt me.”

Takkian tilted his head slightly. His jaw tightened, but he didn’t interrupt.

“At my settlement, nobody fought for anything. We just…accepted that our lives would be hard and miserable. We starved because the Axis took nearly everything. When something broke, when they took too much—” Her chest heaved as her breath caught. “I made it work. I made tools, shaped rocks into wheels, into shelters. If something was wrong, I fixed it. And this?” Shegestured around her—the cell, the arena, everything that had held her since she was taken. “This is wrong.”

“You can’t fix this place, Sevas.” Takkian sounded like he was trying to soothe a feral beast. “You’ll just get yourself killed trying.”

“I don’t mean fixing this place,” she said, cutting him off before he could douse the resolve blazing to life inside her now. “I mean, I’m going to find a way out of here, Takkian. For Ulo, for Bruil, for anyone that still has something worth living for. I’m getting usout.”

Bruil, who had been quiet until now, let out a sharp, gruff laugh. “You really are something, aren’t you? A few days in the pit and she’s already planning an uprising. Do you know how many cycles I’ve heard that speech? Do you know how many are still here, rotting in these cells?”

Sevas didn’t flinch at his words. Her jaw set, her gaze fixed on Takkian. She had heard that same tone back home, from people too worn down by years of suffering to fight back. She refused to let it crush her now.

“This isn’t the same. I’m not going to just talk about leaving. I’m going to do it.” She rose to her feet and leaned toward Takkian, searching his face for cracks in the stoic armor he wore so well. “But I can’t do it alone. You know how this place runs, how they think. You’ve survived this long because you know how to adapt. We can do this, Takkian. Together.”

For a moment, he said nothing. His eyes flickered with something unreadable as his wings shifted slightly behind him, a restless twitch. Sevas held her breath, waiting for him to dismiss her like Bruil or push her away.

Takkian regarded her in silence. The weight of her words hung between them. His gaze was sharp, unwavering, as though he was dissecting every inch of her resolve. His claws tappedfaintly against his forearm, a rhythm she was recognizing as a sign he was thinking, calculating.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low, deliberate. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

Sevas didn’t back down. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, but she forced herself to meet his eyes. “I’m asking for a chance,” she said. “A chance to do something that matters, to not just…exist here until they decide they’re done with me.”

Takkian’s teeth ground together. He glanced toward Bruil, who was watching the exchange with a mix of curiosity and skepticism, then back to Sevas. His eyes flared bright in the dim cell. He leaned in closer. His imposing frame made the small space between them feel even smaller.

“If I agree to this,” he said, his voice dropping to a near-growl, “you need to understand there’s no going back. No second chances. The handlers, the mechs, the Axis—they don’t forgive. They’ll crush us the moment they sniff out an escape plan. And the people here, the fighters? They’ll turn on us the moment it benefits them.”

“I understand,” Sevas replied. She straightened, ignoring the pain, her gaze locked on his. “But I’ll take that over waiting to be put in a final match.”

Takkian studied her for a long, heavy moment. His wings shifted behind him again in a restless twitch that betrayed the turmoil beneath his cool exterior. Finally, he exhaled sharply through his nose, the sound more like a growl than a sigh.

“Very well,” he said at last, his tone clipped. “But don’t think for a second this will be some triumphant rebellion. This isn’t about hope or justice. This is survival. Nothing more.”

Sevas let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Relief mixed with adrenaline, pooling low in her gut. She nodded firmly. “That’s all I need.”

“You’re a mad one, little Terian,” Bruil said, shaking his scarred head. His yellow eyes gleamed with something between amusement and disbelief. “No one’s gotten out of here. Ever.”

Sevas turned her gaze to Bruil. “Then we’ll be the first.”

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