Page 82 of Owned By the Hvrok

She watched as everything shifted: his posture, the muscles rippling beneath dark armor, his stance widening. Wings unfurled in a sudden, breathtaking rush, powerful limbs stretching out and up, spreading like the terrifying silhouette of an ancient war-god, ready to wreak destruction.

This wasn't the silent guardian who had held her close, who had touched her with quiet reverence.

No, this was something primal.

Something dangerous.

A predator.

Her pulse raced in panicked bursts as she stared at him—this alien, who had touched her so gently—transform into something utterly deadly.

His armor shimmered, weapons she hadn't even noticed before now emerging into clear view. Blades glinting ominously, guns and strange devices secured against armored plates. He raised one large weapon with effortless confidence, a sleek gun that crackled menacingly with energy.

Her blood ran cold.

Oh god, what's happening?

One of his wings snapped outward like a battle cry, and the armored figures charged, moving as one lethal unit. He didn't retreat, didn't hesitate.

He lunged forward.

In a flash, brilliant bolts of red energy exploded from his gun, streaking through the blizzard. She gasped sharply as two attackers dropped instantly, helmets shattering, bodies flung back into the snow. They collapsed, lifeless or unconscious—she couldn't tell—but her protector was already pivoting fluidly, wings slicing through the blizzard like sharpened blades, momentum unbroken.

Deadly precision. Terrifying speed.

Another attacker fired back, wielding a weapon that erupted with vibrant blue blasts of electric force. Two bolts slammed into his armor, crackling violently. She watched in horror as he reeled backward, staggering slightly, a hiss of pain audible even through the howling storm.

No!she gasped, shocked by the terrible violence unfolding before her.

But just as quickly, he recovered, steadying himself, unfazed by the sizzling burns across his armor. His wings flared wider, snapping aggressively, sending a wave of snow and ice blasting outward.

He advanced again, fury radiating from every deadly step.

Several more armored figures surged forward, a pack of four moving with terrifying speed, their forms blurred by the driving snow. They attacked simultaneously, coordinating their strikes from both front and rear.

He countered instantly. His wings became weapons, whipping out like bladed edges, slamming brutally into those approaching from behind, sending them sprawling through the snow. In the same breath, he shot the advancing front attackers, red bolts piercing the storm, striking them down with lethal precision.

It was like witnessing a battle between gods or demons. Outnumbered yet relentless, he handled them with frightening efficiency.

Sylvia's heart hammered painfully as a grim realization seized her: If these beings ever discovered Earth, humanity wouldn't stand a chance. Her family. Her friends. All the innocent people, oblivious to the terrifying potential threat lurking beyond their world. The thought made her feel utterly powerless, completely vulnerable.

Yet, amidst that suffocating fear, another realization sparked fiercely in her mind.

This fierce, deadly being fighting out there—he was fighting to protect her.

And she could do nothing but stare helplessly, heart hammering, as the fight unfolded, knowing her fate restedentirely in the hands of a dangerous being whose name she didn't even know.

These strange, silent attackers… it was clear they were dangerous: that they intended to kill him, and probably her, too—orworse.

But now, he was gaining the upper hand. His wings were a clear advantage, his massive form matching their speed blow for blow. Their blades couldn't penetrate his armor, making her wonder what it was made of, why it was so impossibly strong. What was its true significance? Why had he never removed his helm?

Whatwashe?

A killer.

Out there, amidst the blizzard and battle, the dark armor suited him perfectly—he was death incarnate.

Suddenly, he drew a sword—gleaming silver-white metal, so pale it nearly vanished against the snow. A crimson shimmer streaked down the blade, and then he attacked, his movements a mesmerizing dance of lethal precision. To Sylvia's shock, his sword sliced effortlessly through their gleaming armor, cutting them down without pause.

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