Page 67 of Xara and the Xenobeast

The Suppressor managed one final, desperate strike—driving a vibro-blade into the Xenobeast’s side. The blade sank deep, sending waves of agony through his body. But he didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.

With a roar that shook the trees, he tore the Suppressor’s head from his shoulders.

Silence fell over the clearing. The Xenobeast turned, blood dripping from his claws, to face Vask.

The commander stood alone, outwardly calm despite the carnage surrounding him. He drew a sidearm—a sleek, deadly pulse pistol.

“You were our greatest achievement,” Vask said, his voice steady. “And our greatest failure.”

The Xenobeast stalked forward, ignoring the weapon aimed at his chest. “Your failure was thinking you owned me.”

Vask fired. The energy pulse struck the Xenobeast square in the chest, burning through muscle and tissue. He staggered but didn’t fall.

“Your failure,” he continued, still advancing, “was coming back.”

Vask fired again. And again. Each shot tore through the Xenobeast’s body, leaving smoking wounds that would have killed any normal being. But he wasn’t normal. He was engineered to endure. To survive.

To win.

He reached Vask, knocking the weapon from his hand with a casual swipe. The commander didn’t flinch, didn’t beg. His cold eyes met the Xenobeast’s without wavering.

“She belongs to the Dominion,” Vask said. “As do you. Others will come.”

The Xenobeast seized him by the throat, lifting him until his feet dangled above the ground. His tendrils wrapped around Vask’s face, tasting his fear beneath the facade of control.

“Let them come,” he growled. “I’ll kill them all.”

He could snap Vask’s neck. End it now. The beast inside him screamed for it—for vengeance, for blood. But the part of him that had defied his programming, the part that had chosen mercy once before, held back.

Not out of compassion. Out of strategy.

He dragged Vask to the edge of the clearing, where the ground dropped away into a deep river canyon. The commander struggled now, finally showing fear as he realized what was coming.

“The Dominion doesn’t know she’s here,” the Xenobeast said. “Only you do. Your ship. Your squad.”

Understanding dawned in Vask’s eyes. “You’ll never be free of us.”

“I already am.”

With a final surge of strength, the Xenobeast hurled Vask over the edge. The commander’s scream echoed briefly before being swallowed by the roar of the river below.

The Xenobeast stood at the cliff edge, watching as Vask’s body was swept away by the current. His wounds throbbed, blood flowing freely from multiple pulse burns and the vibro-blade still embedded in his side.

But he felt no pain. Only a cold, savage satisfaction.

He turned back to the clearing, surveying the battlefield. Five dead Suppressors. Two paralyzed but alive. The drop-ship, still powered and intact.

He would deal with the survivors and the ship later. For now, he needed to return to Xara. To make sure she was safe.

As he moved back into the jungle, his steps were no longer those of prey evading hunters. He was the predator now. The hunter.

This world was his territory. Xara was his mate. The pups were their family.

And he would destroy anyone who threatened them.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Xara paced the inner chamber of the cave, checking her makeshift defenses for the fifth time. The heat stones from the thermal springs lined the entrance—superheated to the point where touching them would sear flesh. She’d positioned them carefully, creating a narrow path that only she knew was safe to traverse.

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