“Zoey!” Ren called again, shaking her gently.

Her head lolled, but she did not respond.

Fire burned in his veins as he checked her breathing — present, but shallow and weak. Despite his best efforts to shield her, she was banged up and splattered with blood, most of which seemed to be from wounds on her head and her thigh.

The helicopter’s blades whirred overhead, creating a chilled breeze that blew into the broken SUV through the shattered windows. He heard vehicle doors opening outside. Human voices rose in shouts over the aircraft’s din.

His ship was so close. So close, but they were surrounded, and Zoey was hurt…

She’d shown him a life he could never have imagined. Had woken within him feelings he’d never known could exist. Over a few days — so short a time, too short a time — she’d become everything to him. She’d become the future he wanted, she’d become his hope, his peace.

His love.

And now she was on the brink of being taken from him. He couldn’t lose her. Couldn’t bear it, couldn’t survive it.

“Stay with me, Zoey,” he commanded. “You may not give in.”

“Out of the vehicle!” a human shouted as Ren tore the sleeve off his coat and hurriedly tied it around Zoey’s leg, hoping to staunch the bleeding.

When he lifted his hands, they were stained crimson, glistening in the high-powered lights from the helicopter and nearby ground vehicles.

Zoey is hurt. My Zoey. My kun’ia.

He hadn’t wanted conflict, hadn’t wanted battle; he had resolved himself to simply return home, to put his time on this planet behind him, to fulfill his final duty. The lives he’d taken had been out of necessity and had not matched the aligarii lives claimed by these humans. He’d been willing to forgive them.

But they’d harmed Zoey. They’d declared war.

This is all I knew for my entire life.

And now, the humans would know the wrath of an aekhora.

Rendash twisted in the seat, bent his legs, and kicked the passenger door off the vehicle. It skidded away in the snow. He cast any lingering pretenses of detachment aside with it.

He latched onto the doorframe with all four hands, poured strength into his arms, and launched himself out of the vehicle. His cloaking field settled into place almost immediately.

The human soldiers — he counted twelve standing in the snowy field, with one more at each of the three black transports and at least two in the aircraft — shouted their surprise and confusion.

Rendash formed a vrahsk on each arm, causing his cloaking field to falter just before he landed atop the nearest soldier, plunging two of the blades through the man’s chest.

The impact kicked up loose powder. The hard packed snow beneath the human’s body sizzled against the blades, evaporating to steam.

The other soldiers opened fire, launching dozens of projectiles into Ren’s shield. He leapt into the humans clustered nearby, drawing their gunfire as far away from Zoey as possible. More snow flew into the air to sparkle in the artificial light like stars scattered across the night sky as Ren wove among the soldiers in a battle dance, his vrahsks singing.

Pained screams and gurgling cries mingled with bursts of gunfire and the beating of the helicopter’s blades to create a bone-chilling dirge.

With each strike, Ren saw Zoey, pale and unconscious, in his mind, saw the blood — her blood — soaking her clothing, covering his hands. With each strike, he amplified his strength, his speed, his reflexes, producing scorching heat inside his body. He darted from soldier to soldier, offering no mercy to his enemies.

The helicopter banked around, and a soldier fired a large gun mounted at its side opening. Snow sprayed everywhere, and the projectiles slammed into Ren’s shield in an unrelenting torrent. He staggered against the onslaught; the air around him lit up with purple flashes as his shield strained against the repeated impact.

She may die if I succeed.

She will die if I fail.

Releasing a roar, Rendash jumped out of the gunfire, hitting the cold snow in a roll, and snatched up an object from the ground as he faced the helicopter again — the detached door of the destroyed SUV. The helicopter’s operator turned the aircraft around to grant the gunner a clear line of fire.

Grasping the door by its thin, bent upper frame, Ren spun to build momentum and hurled it at the helicopter.

The door struck at the base of the blades, smashing the machinery. The helicopter pitched wildly to the side. Screaming, the gunner tumbled out, dangling by a strap. Ren bolted clear as the blades bit into the ground. Snow, ice, and frozen dirt sprayed at him with enough force to trigger his shield. The Earth itself shook when the body of the helicopter whipped into the ground in a massive, deafening crash.

Ren didn’t look back; he charged the remaining soldiers in the field, dodging through bursts of projectiles to attack with his blades.

One of the soldiers tugged a cylindrical object from his chest, pulled a small ring from its top, and threw it at Rendash.

Dismissing a vrahsk, Ren extended a hand, catching the cylinder on his palm. He lifted his arm and catapulted the object into the cluster of soldiers. Two of the humans were quick enough to dive onto the ground, throwing their arms over their heads.

The cylinder’s explosion echoed through the night like rolling thunder. Its concussive force hurled a pair of humans through the air, their blood spraying like mist to paint the snow. Despite the ringing in his ears, Ren heard the pained screams of the survivors. He killed them swiftly and picked up two of their long guns.

A fire in the helicopter wreckage cast a flickering orange glow on the bloody snow, deepening the surrounding shadows and highlighting the lifeless corpses scattered nearby.

The sound of roaring engines came from somewhere down the road; more land vehicles were inbound.

Ren shouldered the human weapons, took aim at the men standing at the stationary SUVs, and squeezed the triggers. The weapons flashed as they sprayed projectiles with surprising accuracy. All three men crumpled, the doors of their vehicles offering inadequate cover; one lived long enough to cry out in pain as he hit the ground.

Lights at the edge of Ren’s peripheral vision caught his attention. More black SUVs. Somehow, he knew Stantz was in one of them.

He shifted his gaze to the damaged vehicle that sheltered his mate.

How much time did she have?

They are too close for me to move her safely.

His insides twisted and clenched sickeningly; he wanted to go to her, needed to go to her, but he had to end this first. Had to commit fully to the part of himself he so desperately longed to leave behind. And he had to do so with haste, or he’d lose her forever.

His mate, his love, his everything.

Dismissing his remaining blades, he crouched over the nearest bodies and gathered two of the explosive cylinders. He engaged his cloaking field and sprinted through the snow along the side of the road, toward the oncoming vehicles.

Steeling himself, Rendash veered into the road. His cloaking field fell as he reinforced his shield and strengthened his leg muscles to the point of searing pain, and he slammed into the driver’s side of the lead vehicle, smashing metal and shattering glass. His shield flared as it absorbed the impact with the SUV. The vehicle bounced and stuttered over the road before tipping into the ditch on the far side.

The impact rattled Ren, but he didn’t allow himself a moment’s delay. He spun toward the second SUV as it swerved to avoid the first and emptied both long guns into the windshield. The vehicle lost control and went off the road, crashing into a wooden pole. The pole sagged toward the SUV as electricity crackled and buzzed overhead. The vehicle’s front end was destroyed, wrapped around the base of the pole in a mangled mess of bent metal.

He tossed the firearms aside, bunched his legs, and leapt onto the final vehicle, extending his nails into sharpened claws through his nyros to latch onto the roof. The transport swayed as it sped along the road. Ren’s lower half flailed from side to side.

Dragging himself forward, he hammered his fist into the windshield. Cracks blossomed across the glass. Another blow saw it buckle, opening along the top seam.

He pulled the ring out of one of the cylinders and dropped the explosive through the windshield gap.

Ren jumped off the vehicle, tumbling over a snow bank on the side of the road.

The passenger door swung open and a soldier inside desperately struggled to abandon the SUV. Red lights flared on the back of the vehicle, and its tires screeched as it was brought to a halt. A thumping explosion sounded within, breaking the windows and scattering glass in the road. The soldier on the passenger side was blasted out through the open door, hitting the ground in a heap. Smoke curled up from his shredded back.

He lay unmoving on the road.

The SUV rolled forward slowly, stopping only when it crashed into one of the parked vehicles.

Regaining his feet, Rendash ran to the lead vehicle, which lay on its side in the ditch. A bloodied soldier was attempting to climb out through the broken driver’s window. Ren buried a vrahsk in the human’s throat and tossed the remaining explosive into the open window. The screams from within were cut short by another thumping explosion.

“Nearly back, Zoey,” he whispered as he approached the last vehicle at the damaged pole. Smoke billowed from its destroyed engine.

He tugged open the passenger door. The two humans in the front seats were dead, their bodies riddled with projectile wounds. The rear driver’s side door was open, and a lone human was trudging through the snowy field beyond.

Ren pulled a small gun from the dead passenger’s belt and fired three projectiles into the struggling human in the back seat. Tossing the weapon down, he vaulted over the vehicle to pursue the last survivor.

“Get those birds here now!” the man — Stantz — shouted.

As Ren closed the distance between them, he made no attempt to mask the crunch of snow beneath his feet.

Stantz spun to look at Ren, eyes wide and fearful, and stumbled, crashing to the ground. He turned onto his back and scrambled away in retreat as Ren leapt at him.

Ren landed with his legs on either side of Stantz’s and loomed over the human.

“You’re declaring war against the United States of America!” Stantz shouted desperately. “Think about it. Even you can’t stand against this country!”

Grabbing a fistful of the man’s coat, Ren lifted the man’s torso off the ground. Stantz drew a gun from a hip holster. Before he could aim the weapon, Ren caught his wrist in a hand and squeezed. Bone snapped under the aligarii’s crushing grip. The human screamed.

A distant whirring sound heralded the approach of more helicopters.

“Mercy! Show mercy, and I’ll make sure you and the woman aren’t killed!” Stantz pleaded.

Zoey.

Leaning down over the human, Ren bared his teeth. “You may have doomed her already.”

“W-w-we can get her m-medical attention,” the human stammered, “the b-best in the world!”

“You tortured and killed all that remained of my Umen’rak,” Ren growled as he formed a blade on his lower right arm. “You took my people from me, took my home from me, and now you seek to take Zoey from me, as well? Now you face justice for what you’ve done.”

Stantz stared at the thrumming vrahsk, which cast a pink-purple glow on his terrified face. “The woman can go. She can—”

The human’s words ended in a pained, startled grunt when Ren thrust the blade into his gut, beneath his ribs, and into his heart. Shock and confusion mingled on Stantz’s features.

“This is a better death than you deserve,” Ren spat. He dismissed the vrahsk and let the lifeless body collapse in the snow.

Without wasting another breath, Ren raced back to Zoey. The sound of helicopters was rapidly growing louder.

He leaned into the battered vehicle from the open passenger side. She was pale, lips tinged blue, but turned her head toward him.

“Ren?” she asked weakly. One of her hands fell on his arm, her icy fingers closing in a weak grasp.

“I’m here,” he replied. His internal temperature, already high from pushing his nyros, only increased as he examined Zoey. Her left forearm had an odd bend in its center, and the flesh around it was dark with bruising. Her skin was cold, her breathing labored, and though the flow from her leg wound had slowed, she’d lost a great deal of blood. Too much.

The steam rising from his body made the air inside the vehicle waver.

More. Need to force out a little more…

“We need to go, kun’ia,” he said as he carefully gathered her in his arms, somehow managing to suppress the tremors threatening to course through his limbs.

“I’m s-s-so cold.”

“I know, Zoey.” He drew Zoey out of the vehicle, wrapped his arms around her, and held her to his chest. She cried out as he moved her. The sound pierced him, more painful than any wound he’d ever suffered.

“I l-love y-you, Ren,” she said quietly against his shoulder, her body limp but shivering.

“And I love you.”

Spotlights swept across the open field as the helicopters came over the trees. Gritting his teeth, Ren projected his cloaking field to encompass himself and Zoey together. “I’m sorry it hurts. We just have a little farther to go.” He kissed the top of her head and held her tighter. “Stay with me, kun’ia. I can’t lose you.”

He ran through the snow and plunged into the woods, leaving the blood and searchlights behind. The speed was jarring to her, but he couldn’t move any slower. He didn’t have to know much about human biology to guess that she was near the limits of what her body could endure.

She was dying, and Rendash didn’t know how to save her.

The ship was his only hope. There were medical pods aboard; it didn’t matter if there was a chance they weren’t functioning, or if they were only attuned to his species. He’d find a way.

He had to find a way.

Soon, the only sounds were the icy top layer of snow breaking beneath his feet, his ragged breath, and the snapping of branches against his body. He shielded Zoey from the scratching limbs with his arms and shoulders. The heat within him steadily increased as he pushed his body beyond the limits of his nyros.

Finally, he reached a clearing deep within the woods. The unbroken snow bulged at the center in a shape familiar to him, mimicking the curves and planes of the command module. He reached out with his nyros to make a connection but couldn’t initiate one beyond the basic tracking tether.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

Instinct. There was no time to overthink anything.

He carefully set Zoey down and hurriedly stripped off his clothing, laying it on the snow and moving her atop it to serve as a buffer between her and the cold. Then he rushed to the ship, using all four arms to claw through the snow, digging frantically toward the entry.

The snow was so cold compared to his skin that it burned, melting as he touched it. He didn’t relent until he felt the hull — which had maintained its cloaking field — beneath his palms. He held his hands to it and the connection crackled to life; nearly all the internal systems had been shut down to conserve power.

He forced his nyros to override the shutdown. Loose snow fell onto him from above, heavier than it had been during the blizzard in Vail, as the ship powered on. Ren stumbled back when the cloaking field switched off, and the craft rose slightly out of the snow, causing a small avalanche all around it. All the snow touching its hull quickly melted.

The entry slid open, extending a ramp to the ground and bathing it with gentle light.

Ren lifted Zoey, scooping up the clothing beneath her in the process. Her head lolled, and her limbs swayed limply; she was unconscious again.

He carried her onto the ship and rushed through the corridor into the main cabin, where all the command module’s functional equipment was housed. As he moved, he prompted the ship to go through all the necessary functions to enter orbit. It shook slightly before the stabilization systems kicked in.

Crouching, he tore off Zoey’s blood-soaked clothing and cast it aside. Her pale skin showed more signs of bruising. He carefully laid her in one of the medical pods and interfaced with the ship through his nyros. She looked so small inside, so fragile. The pod sealed with a hiss, pressurizing around her.

The medical systems scanned her but did not recognize her anatomy. Ren tried to force commands through, tried to force some sort of action, but the system rejected his attempts. All the while, her chest rose and fell with stilted, shallow breaths, each appearing weaker than the last. The scans had determined that she’d lost excessive blood, but the system did not have the resources to synthesize anything as a replacement.

He unleashed a torrent of human swears at the pod, his frustration overwhelming his clear thought. Drawing back an arm, he swung, and stopped himself only an instant before he would’ve plunged a vrahsk into the machine. Everything inside him stilled as he stared at the pulsating blade. He shifted his gaze to see Zoey’s face bathed in the violet glow through the glass of the pod.

In that moment, he realized there was only one chance. Only one thing to try before it was too late.

He dismissed the blade, climbed into the secondary pod, and lay back, sealing himself inside.

It was against the traditions of his people, perhaps even against the laws, but he didn’t care. He had to try for Zoey. Had to do all he could to avoid losing her.

The medical systems resisted his commands.

Control.

Fire blazed in his gut as he forced his nyros to override all the warnings and initiate the transfer. A blinding light filled the pod and forced him to squeeze his eyes shut. The pain was immense as the tiny machines — which had been part of him since he was young, bonded to the very molecules that comprised him — were torn from his body and transferred to Zoey’s pod. All his muscles locked up at once, and his back arched off the padding.

As his nyros diminished, he felt the abuses his body had endured making themselves known, all the aches and old wounds reintroducing themselves. It was nothing compared to the agony of having part of himself ripped out, but he didn’t voice his pain. It was for her.

A piece of his heart lay in that other pod already, and he’d give as much of himself as it took to keep it safe.

Something slipped in beneath the pain. It began subtly, but gradually strengthened as his nyros lessened.

Awareness.

He recognized the sensation — it was the bond shared by members of an Umen’rak, an invisible web binding their nyros together because of their common source. He felt Zoey; her body, her pain, her fear, her love. Her life, weak but not yet defeated. Shoving aside his own agony, he poured as much of his willpower through that bond as he could.

Live, kun’ia!

Finally, the light vanished, and he dropped onto the padding. He drew in several deep, burning breaths and turned his head to look at the other pod; Zoey was enveloped in the same light that had enveloped him a moment before.

His nyros stirred, as weak and unresponsive as it had been during his captivity. It would recover, in time, but he didn’t care about that.

He could still feel her.

Zoey’s scream was muffled as the light in her pod intensified.

Overriding the computer again, he forced his pod open and pulled himself out. His legs buckled under his weight. He caught himself against the wall before he fell and staggered to her side. His head spun, his stomach threatened upheaval, and every part of him was in agony, but it was nothing compared to what she was enduring.

Zoey’s form, reduced to little more than a shadow in the intense glow, writhed as the nyros entered her body and bound themselves to her. He remembered that pain well from his own binding.

Ren braced his hands on the surface of the pod, curling his fingers against it helplessly. He dropped his face onto it and forced air through his constricted throat.

This is the only way, he told himself. The only chance.

But his nyros were not made for her kind. His nyros were for the aekhora, and many aligarii perished during the pairing process. How would her fragile human body handle it? How could he have possibly thought it would work?

“Stay with me, kun’ia,” he rasped.