Page 16 of Savage Bond

I shrug, snapping a bone between my teeth to suck the marrow. "Find a way to signal my crew. Wait for extraction."

She snorts, loud and full of disbelief. "And if they don't come?"

I don't answer. The truth is, I don't know. But I won't admit that to her.

"Then we find another way," she says firmly, stabbing at her meat like it insulted her. "Failing is not an option, and I’m not going to let you fuck my life up more than you already did.”

I glance at her, the firelight casting shadows across her face. "You got a name, or should I keep calling you 'the human'?"

She rolls her eyes, not looking up. "Ava."

"Kairon," I reply, the word tasting foreign on my tongue. "Not that it matters."

She snorts again. "You're right. It doesn't."

We sit in silence, the crackling fire the only sound between us. The tension is palpable, each of us lost in our own thoughts, unwilling to bridge the chasm of distrust.

CHAPTER 9

AVA

The jungle breathes around me, a living entity of shadows and whispers. The air is thick with humidity, clinging to my skin like a second layer, slick and suffocating. Somewhere above, the canopy rustles, leaves shifting against each other like hissing secrets. Distant calls of unseen creatures echo through the foliage—sharp cries, low howls, guttural croaks. A haunting symphony that underscores the stillness of our pathetic excuse for a camp.

I stir from a restless sleep, the taste of adrenaline still bitter on my tongue. My body screams as I move—muscles pulled tight, bruises blooming across my arms and ribs, the ghost of pain radiating through my side where the harness dug in too hard during impact. My skin is clammy beneath the ragged remains of my uniform, and the makeshift bedding beneath me—if you can even call it that—is soaked through with dew. The jungle’s dampness has seeped into my bones, chilling me to the core.

For a moment, I blink into the dim light, unsure of where I am. But reality crashes back in like a punch to the gut.

Alien planet.

Crashed escape pod.

No backup.

And him.

I suck in a breath as my gaze finds the Reaper, already awake and seated by the smoldering fire. His form is coiled, looming even at rest, a blade in his hand catching the faint orange glow as he drags it slowly across a sharpening stone. The rasping noise grates along my spine, every scrape a reminder of what he is—what he’s capable of.

Kairon Vesh.

The last thing I remember before the pod launched was the chaos of the firefight—the thunder of gunfire, the shriek of the alarms, the containment breach, and then his face. Brutal. Unrelenting. The kind of face you don’t forget. The kind that makes your heart pound for all the wrong reasons.

He probably killed my entire crew.

And now, he’s the only person left to watch my back.

His eyes catch mine in the half-light—faintly glowing, eerily still. There’s no recognition, no apology, no flicker of remorse. Just cold calculation. He’s studying me, not out of curiosity or concern, but like he’s waiting for me to make a mistake. Like I’m a piece of machinery he's deciding whether to salvage… or discard.

I clench my jaw and push myself upright, biting back a groan as my ribs protest. I need to move. Need to do something—anything—to shake off the crawling sensation under my skin.

I start checking the perimeter, brushing past thick ferns and low-hanging vines that drip with condensation. The jungle is so damn alive it feels like it’s watching us, too—waiting for one of us to drop dead.

Every snap of a twig or rustle of leaves sends a jolt through my spine. I keep my hand close to the stun-blade salvaged from the pod, but it’s a pathetic comfort. The weapon’s already half-broken, and I don’t know how long it’ll hold a charge.

Behind me, I feel it—his gaze. Like a blade pressed against the back of my neck.

Watching. Judging.

I don’t look back.

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