Page 50 of Scorched By Fate

“How did you end up on Volcaryth?” I asked, keeping my voice low. If I'd been any less exhausted, I might have spent the night tossing and turning, desperate for the answer. Instead, I’d slept only a foot away from Vyne and wished I was brave enough to lie down in his arms.

This thing between us … I wasn’t sure I understood it. I could practically still taste him, the memory of his tongue a brand on me.

And I couldn’t think about it. Not now, not when I had to keep Reika alive and get the vyrathis back to Scalvaris before it was too late.

Reika didn't respond. Not surprising—she still flinched whenever I said her name. Her gaze flicked toward Vyne’s shadow ahead of us before her jaw clenched and she refocused on her uneven footing.

I tried again. “Were you on a generation ship from Earth? Maybe your pod got ejected somehow?” As best we could tell, that was what had happened to me and my fellow humans.

Her voice cracked when she finally spoke. “Does it matter?”

“It might,” I said. “If there are others out there, they might need help.”

She stopped. For a moment, I thought she’d stay silent, but then her lips curled into a sneer, her voice sharp and bitter. “If anyone else made it, you won’t find them alive. You’d be lucky to find their bones.”

The edge of her bitterness grated, but I swallowed my irritation. Pushing her wouldn’t help, not while she was still bruised and battered. What the hell had she survived to leave her this cut open and closed off?

“What about you?” I pressed. “How long have you been out here?”

She didn’t flinch this time. “Long enough.”

She wore her silence like armor. And whatever survival instinct had dragged her through this volcanic deathtrap still burned under her exhaustion, just enough to keep her moving.

The terrain didn’t help. The deeper we pushed into this wasteland, the more Volcaryth’s suffocating hostility seeped into my bones. This world wasn’t just a planet—it was a predator. Every shadow, every sulfur-choked breath in the air felt like it was waiting for one moment of weakness to strike.

Vyne moved steadily ahead. He knew the terrain better than either of us, but even he couldn’t fully hide the tension. He saw something there—felt it.

He’s worried.

That thought stuck to me harder than the heat. If Volcaryth had Vyne watching the shadows, we were already treading over the edge of disaster.

Reika kept moving, her steps growing steadier. Her breathing, still labored, was getting stronger. Whatever strength had dragged her through hell planet still burned inside her, faint but alive.

Then the first warning hit—a shift in the air, enough to make every nerve in my body tighten.

“Move.” Vyne’s voice cut like a knife.

Instinct took over before my mind could catch up. I shifted fast, dragging Reika toward me as I adjusted the pack against my back. My gaze darted upward to the surrounding ridges, searching desperately for whatever had Vyne’s wings flaring.

Nothing. At least, nothing I could see.

“Eyes up,” Vyne growled, his gaze locked on the rocks above. He stopped short, his imposing frame coiled and ready.

Then I saw them—shadows slipping over the peaks, moving too quickly and too precisely to be anything but a threat.

Shit.

“Reika.” I kept my voice sharp and low, stepping closer to shield her as I reached for my knife. Vyne’s knife. Whichever. All that mattered was it was sharp. “Stay close. Keep moving. Understand?”

She nodded stiffly, her breaths shaky but steady enough to keep her upright. Good. That was good. I could work with that.

The air thickened, tension coiling around us. It prickled behind my neck, each heartbeat louder and harder against my chest.

Then they appeared.

The first Drakarn, they had to be from Ignarath, burst from the haze, red and gold scales glinting. He slammed into the ground, his claws scraping deep gouges into the ridge just meters from Vyne. His wings flared sharply as he straightened.

A second leapt forward from the ridge to our left, blue-scaled and bristling with dark armor so polished it seemed to drink in the shadows. Above us, a third circled.

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