Page 26 of Savage Bond

“Yeah, yeah.” Her tone drips with sarcasm despite the strain in her voice.

We both know we need to find a relay beacon or something—anything—that will lead us back to civilization or at least give us an edge in this damn jungle. As I cut through more brush, frustration simmers beneath my surface; there’s a weight pressing down on me—not just from the physical exhaustion but from something deeper that I can’t quite grasp yet.

The terrain here changes so rapidly that suddenly a slope rises steeply, the moss-covered ground slick beneath my boots. Roots claw out of the incline like jagged bones, and I push ahead, forcing my way up.

Behind me, Ava slips again. I glance back, irritation bubbling in my chest as she steadies herself, hands shaking with effort.

“Stop being stubborn,” I snap.

“No thanks.” She glares at me through a curtain of tangled hair. Her resolve grates against my nerves; the way she refuses help only seems to strengthen her resolve.

I keep climbing, every muscle protesting as I haul myself up. With each step, I feel her struggle—her determination pushes through the air between us like a physical force.

She slips once more, her foot skidding on damp earth, but this time she doesn’t curse; she bites her lip and digs in deeper. My frustration mixes with something else—something softer—but I crush it down hard. I can’t afford weakness, not from myself or from her.

Finally, we reach the top of the ridge. Ava collapses against a stone outcrop, panting heavily. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, and for a moment I let myself observe her—the sweat-soaked fabric clinging to her body, the fire still ignited in her hazel eyes despite the exhaustion.

I stand at the edge, scanning the vast expanse before us. The jungle stretches endlessly in all directions—a rolling sea of emerald hills swallowed by mist and shadow. In the distance rise towering ruins—alien structures half-choked by vines and decay. No ships pierce the sky; no signals flicker through the dense atmosphere.

Only green and silence.

“They won’t come for you.” My voice cuts through the quiet air like a blade. “Not the IHC. Not your command. They cut their losses.”

She doesn’t respond at first—doesn’t flinch at my words or turn to meet my gaze. Instead, she stares out over the horizon with that tight jaw of hers, fingers curling into fists that tremble slightly against the stone.

I watch closely as understanding dawns on her face like a slow sunrise; she finally grasps that she’s alone here. Thateverything she believed in—the system she wanted so badly to be part of—has abandoned her on this forsaken planet.

The weight of it settles between us, thickening the air with unspoken truths that neither of us wants to address just yet.

Ava sways slightly, her shoulders trembling—not from pain, but from something deeper breaking inside her. I can see it in the way her gaze drifts off into the distance, searching for answers that won't come. The moment stretches between us, heavy and taut like a wire pulled too tight.

I lower myself beside her on the stone, not saying a word, but I don’t pull away either. It feels like a truce—fragile and unsteady. The jungle hums around us, alive and mocking as if it knows our vulnerabilities.

Her silence thickens the air. I can feel the heat radiating from her skin—a pulse of desperation that resonates within me. I recognize the look in her eyes; it mirrors my own from years ago when the Reapers first understood we’d been cast out by the galaxy. That final, bitter shattering of hope when we realized there was no place left for us.

I want to touch her—just a brush of fingers against skin to anchor her to this moment, to this reality—but I don't. Instead, I remain still, grappling with the strange urge twisting in my gut.

Finally, she breaks the silence, voice quiet and brittle like dry leaves crunching underfoot.

“They told me this mission would make me.” She pauses as if weighing each word carefully before continuing. “They didn’t say I’d have to die to prove it.”

Her admission hangs in the air between us—a confession wrapped in resignation.

“Then live,” I reply without hesitation. “To spite them.”

The words feel foreign coming from my mouth—rough and raw—but they ignite something within her. A flicker crossesAva’s face, an ember of defiance that cuts through the despair shrouding us both.

We sit there in silence as the jungle wind rustles through the leaves overhead, creating whispers that seem to echo our unspoken fears and desires. For once, we’re not enemies—not exactly. We’re just two stranded souls adrift in this alien world with broken ties holding us back.

CHAPTER 16

AVA

The rain pounds down, a relentless drumbeat that drowns out the world around us. Each drop strikes the leaves above, sending splatters cascading to the ground like tiny explosions. The air grows thick and heavy with humidity, clinging to my skin as I push forward through the darkness. My legs scream with fatigue; every step feels like dragging weights behind me.

Kairon strides ahead, his silhouette outlined against sporadic flashes of lightning that cut through the gloom. I catch glimpses of jagged branches that reach out like claws, threatening to snag my already tattered uniform. I swallow back frustration as exhaustion threatens to swallow me whole.

“Let’s make camp,” he announces suddenly, and relief washes over me in waves. I almost sag against a tree trunk but force myself to keep moving.

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