Page 125 of Galactic Sentinels: Vol 2
A heavy body crashes into my back, slamming me to the ground.
My breath catches; pain explodes through me. That bastard Danuk followed me and launched a coward’s attack.
He drives his claws deep into my back, then my ribs—left, right. The sharpened tips pierce like fangs of fire.
Then comes the tearing stab into my chest. Something inside rips, burns. With each breath, I feel blood flooding my throat, hot and metallic, choking me. It fills my mouth, invades my sinuses.
He’s punctured a lung.
Suddenly the weight lifts. Someone—Ayden, I think—has pulled Danuk off me. But I can’t focus on that.
All I care about now… is breathing. Just… breathe.
I scream, a mix of rage and agony, a guttural rasp choked with blood.
It pours from me, hot and thick, soaking the ground beneath.
By the Stars… is this how I die? In this wretched arena, stabbed in the back by a disgrace to our kind?
“Noviosk!” Sam gasps, kneeling at my side.
I roll onto my uninjured side. Every movement is torture, but I manage to sit up just enough for the air to move. Blood still rises in my throat—warm and sticky—but at least I’m not suffocating.
I can’t speak. I just look for her—to make sure she’s safe.
Not a scratch.
Two Humans join her, placing themselves at her sides.
Ayden kneels down, his face tense, and starts inspecting my wounds. He’ll only see the blood pouring from my side. He won’t realize Danuk struck deeper, from behind.
My gaze drifts to the other Human.
“You…” I whisper, locking eyes with his violet pupils.
“Me,” he replies calmly. “I’ve wished for your death for a long time. But today… you did something right. It doesn’t erase the lives you took. But saving that girl… it’s a step toward redemption.”
“Truths,” I mutter.
My strength drains with each heartbeat. My vision blurs, sound distorts.
Sam… Ayden… the Asgarnian… I hear them, but they’re slipping away.
I want to speak, say something… but only a trickle of blood escapes my lips.
So I focus on her.
Sam.
Her face is wet with tears, her hands trembling on my chest. She whispers my name again and again, like the sound alone could save me.
In this moment of death, she sees me again—not as the enemy who held her captive, not as the killer of her brother…
But as the friend she once healed.
I want to tell her I’m sorry. For Logan. For everything. I want to tell her she changed me, even if it’s too late.
One final breath—short, wet, barely audible.
