Page 19 of Alien Warlord's Fury

"Yes." Again, not a lie. The captive younglings were part of my concern, but not all of it.

"I keep seeing them." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "In my visions. Their pain feeds whatever Hammond is doing."

"It's... it's like he's using them as conduits."

My jaw tightened. "Similar to what happened during the Great Division."

"You mentioned that before. What exactly happened?"

I chose my words carefully. "Our histories tell of a time when ancient technologies were connected to living beings. The energies proved incompatible. The machines failed."

"The bearers were consumed."

Claire's hand unconsciously moved to her markings. "You think that's what Hammond is attempting? To recreate that?"

"Perhaps. Or he stumbled onto something he doesn't understand." I watched her markings pulse beneath her fingertips. "The results may be the same."

"Destruction."

"Yes."

The rain continued its assault outside, though the thunder had moved farther away. Claire shifted beside me, her shoulder warm against mine.

"I'm scared," she admitted quietly. "Not just of Hammond. Of what's happening to me. These markings... sometimes they have a mind of their own."

I nodded. "Power often seems to have its own will. The Aerie teach that true mastery comes not from dominating that will, but from aligning yourself with it."

"That sounds suspiciously like giving up control."

"No." I turned and faced her fully, our knees touching in the cramped space. "It means understanding that some forces cannot be contained through force alone. They must be guided, channeled."

Claire's eyes searched mine. "Is that what you do with your lifelines?"

"I try." I flexed my hand, allowing golden light to flow along my arm. "The lifelines connect us to Arenix itself. They respond to intention, to need."

"And emotion?" Claire asked, watching the patterns shift across my skin.

I hesitated. "Yes. Emotion can... amplify their response."

As if to demonstrate, my lifelines brightened where our bodies touched, responding to her proximity in ways I couldn't fully control. Claire noticed, her eyes widening slightly.

"They're stronger when you're near me," she observed.

"As are your markings near me." I nodded toward the silver light pulsing beneath her skin.

"Why?"

The question hung between us. The truth—that we were fated mates, our energies naturally seeking to synchronize—remained locked behind my duty to the council, to our purpose.

"Compatible energies," I repeated instead. "It happens sometimes."

Claire frowned, clearly unsatisfied with my answer. Before she could press further, a shift in the sound outside caught my attention.

"The rain is lessening." I turned toward the cave entrance, grateful for the distraction.

We watched together as the downpour gradually slowed to scattered drops. The acrid smell remained, but the immediate danger had passed.

"We should wait until it stops completely," I said. "Even a few drops can burn."

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