Page 95 of Owned By the Hvrok

And she would wait.

Wait for the ship to descend, to take them away from this ruined world.

To where?

She didn’t know.

Didn’t care.

Because she was undone now.

CHAPTER 43

The cold bit at his exposed skin as Kyhin stepped through the hull breach, the wind slicing like knives through the jagged remains of his once-proud ship. His armor sealed tight around him, helm in place, systems flickering with half-power. His breath came steadily.

He wasn’t tired at all. Any hint of fatigue had been erased by the triumph of discoveringher.

And the rage he felt at the possibility that someone might dare take her away from him.

The red-tinged snow crunched beneath his boots as he moved forward, each step deliberate, heavy with purpose. Ahead, the Nalgar approached—silver-armored, efficient, uniform. An army.

They thought to take him? Who knew why? Nalgar were vicious and bloodthirsty by nature. Maybe they wanted to claim the bounty on his head. Maybe they wanted to kill him for sport, for vengeance. Or perhaps some high-ranking Nalgar simply wanted to try Hvrok blood.

His earlier estimation of their wisdom—of the possibility they would leave him alone—had been way off.

These Nalgar were stupider than he thought.

He was Hvrok, or had they forgotten?

And they thought to take what washis?

Unthinkable.

His vision sharpened. Bloodlust surged. But this time, it wasn’t just for survival or vengeance. It wasn’t for credits. It wasn’t for pride, or honor, or the faded memory of a homeland long turned to ash.

It was for her.

Sylvia.

She had awakened something inside him. Something he didn’t know could exist within his war-hardened body. Resolve unlike anything he had felt in all his cycles with the Hvrok. Not when he’d fought alongside his brothers. Not even when he’d carved his way through enemy ranks to complete a contract.

This was different.

This was his.

His to protect.

The thought of her face—soft, open, trembling with trust—and the way she had reached for him, whispered to him, clung to him… ignited a fire in his chest. He had to protect her.Would.No matter the cost.

The Nalgar dared to interrupt that. Dared approach. Dared to challenge.

His hands curled into fists.

A voice crackled through his helm’s comm, faint, distorted by the damage it had sustained. “You have company, it seems,” Duluhath’s gravelled voice muttered, casual even now. So, the Rovok had seen his predicament. “Hold them off until I get within firing range. If anyone can... it’s you, Hvrok.”

Kyhin didn’t respond with pleasantries.

“Understood.”

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