Page 76 of Third

The final stretch was a sprint between eruptions. They darted, weaved, dropped, and ran. Twice more the earth lurched underfoot. Once they slid sideways across loose stone, barely catching their balance.

But they madeit.

They burst past the final ridge and dropped to the gravel just outside the reach of the geysers. Both breathing hard. Both alive.

Tor’Vek looked ather.

She nodded, already setting her sights on the seven kilometers of fractured terrain ahead of them, each meter a blur of heat, danger, and exhaustion. Her legs ached. Her lungs burned. Every part of her felt bruised and stretched too thin—but the only option was forward, through hominid territory, through whatever else this cursed valley held. The ship was still far beyond the next ridge, and every step between here and there would cost them. But there was no time to rest. No strength to spare.

She gritted her teeth and started forward.

There wasn’t a moment to waste.

They moved through the valley in silence.

The geysers still raged behind them, but here—beyond the chaos—the landscape had fallen into a waiting stillness. No more explosions. No shifting ground. Just cracked earth and long shadows.

But they weren’t alone.

Anya noticed them first. Figures on the ridges, just at the edge of her vision. One, then another. Then more. Hominids. Dozens.

They didn’t attack.

Notyet.

They lingered like ghosts—on both sides of the ravine, behind them, always out of reach. Watching. Growing in number. The tension was a physical thing now, coiling in the air like a drawn wire ready to snap. Anya could hear it in the shuffle of footsteps along the ridgeline, in the wet panting of unseen mouths, in the scrape of claws over stone just behind her. The soundless watching had gained a rhythm—apresence. The kind that made her skin prickle and her every instinct shoutrun. The longer they walked, the thicker it became, until every step felt like it echoed through a silent scream.

Anya said nothing. She didn’t need to. Tor’Vek saw them, too. His hand tightened on the hilt of his blade, but he didn’t drawit.

Notyet.

They pressed on. Seven kilometers of fractured terrain stretched behind them by the time they saw the familiar rise of the ship’s hull, half-buried in the slope. The sky above had darkened to a burnt orange, casting the valley in an eerie, apocalypticglow.

At their backs, the hominids crept closer. Still watching. Still waiting. Their growls were low, rhythmic, almost like a drumbeat.

Anya stumbled once. Tor’Vek caught her instantly, strong hands steadying her, but he didn’t let go. His touch lingered, scorching. The contact sent a jolt through her—sharp, uninvited, and far too welcome. She should have pulled away. Should have focused. But the way his fingers curled, the solid heat of his body behind her, it stole her breath.

The craving surged, not in hunger, but in a pulse of helpless awareness. She wanted more. Even here, even now. The craving flared through her like lightning—sharp and instantaneous. She could feel his pulse through his fingers. Rapid. Tense. As if the bond itself were fighting to stay buried beneath the weight of everythingelse.

“Do not let go of me,” he said, voice low, almost ragged. “Therage...”

“I wasn’t planning to,” she whispered, and they didn’t break contact until they reached theship.

Tor’Vek keyed in the sequence. The hatch slid open with a lowhiss.

They stepped inside, sealing the door behind them. Lockingit.

Almost instantly, athunder of fists and claws slammed into the hull from outside. The metal groaned under the first impact, then again. Screeches echoed through the valley—high, warbling, furious. The ship rocked gently as something large hurled itself against theside.

Anya flinched, heart slamming into her ribs. The sound wasn’t just rage. It was anticipation. It was hunger.

Her skin crawled with the pressure of it. Like she could feel them pressing in through the metal, taste the battle in the back of her throat.

Tor’Vek didn’t speak. He moved directly to the ship’s core housing. The stabilizer pack came off his shoulders with a heavy breath, and he snapped it into place. Adeep growl thrummed through the deck beneath them as the ship’s power came on, agrowl practically overrun by the screams of the hominids pounding against thehull.

Anya held her breath. Despite everything, the bond between her and Tor’Vek pulsed hot and tight and low in her belly like it wanted to drag her straight into his arms. Her pulse fluttered in her throat, sharp and uneven. Every part of her felt overexposed, vibrating—lungs too tight, hands damp, skin flushed like she’d been kissed too hard and not long enough.

Outside, the hominids lost what little restraint they’d clung to. Their growls became snarls. Screeches. Fists slammed against the hull in a brutal, syncopated rhythm. The metal began to shake under the weight of it—not just from force, but from numbers. Clawed hands scraped along the viewports. One face—pale and snarling—smeared blood across the glass as it shrieked something guttural and almost human. They weren’t just building to attack.

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