Page 9 of Ravaged By the Reaper

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And itdoes.

Her face haunts me. That sharp chin. Those defiant blue eyes clouded by pain. The way her lips tremble when she pleads—and stars help me, Ihatethat it stirs something in me.

Not pity.

Possession.

Mine.

My claws dig deeper into the seat. The synthetic leather splits beneath the pressure.

If I touch her… will she shatter?

If Iclaimher… will she die?

That itch behind my skull again. That pull down the spine. I snarl under my breath.

"She better be stronger than she looks."

Because if she isn’t… if she breaks beneath me, I’ll tear the stars themselves apart.

But that doubt? That soft little question digging its way into my thoughts?

It’s a lie.

Iknowshe’s strong. I saw it in her posture, even when pain turned her bones to glass. I felt it in her voice, even when she sobbed.

She’s still fighting.

The screen flashes. Destination lock confirmed. We’re nearing the fringe of Coalition space now—dead zone channels, no patrols. The perfect place to hide something nasty.

Figures.

I lean forward and pull Bloodfont from its resting hook. The chain uncoils with a hiss, the scythe head gleaming in the flicker of console light. The metal’s warm. Like itknows.

“Soon,” I whisper, running a claw down the curved edge.

I remember the first time I killed with her. A Dovari bounty hunter who thought he could outfly a Reaper. He was wrong.

So are the ones hurting her.

Whoever they are—whatever they call themselves—will learn what it means to bleed from the inside out. Slowly. Deliberately.Personally.

I won’t make it quick.

The shuttle hums, systems whispering in quiet symphony. I tighten my harness and stare at the nav chart as the red dot pulses.

Closer. Closer still.

“Whoever’s got you, little star,” I murmur, “I’m coming. And when I get there…”

I smile. It’s not pleasant.

“They’ll beg for a death I won’t give.”

CHAPTER 3

AMARA

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