Ares focused on the sound of the human’s breathing as it became slow and even. There was something strangely peaceful about watching her sleep, and Aethra knew she desperately needed the rest. By sheer force of will alone, she’d kept herself awake longer than any ordinary mortal should have been able.

She was quite the formidable one, but with her eyes closed and the strong lines of her face relaxed in sleep, she appeared beautiful and innocent and utterly beguiling.

I must protect her.

Just as she’d protected him.

I must keep my vow… but I cannot leave her.

Promise me they’ll be safe. The first time she’d asked him to protect her people, he’d refused, because he hadn’t known anything about them, and only a fool would make a promise he couldn’t keep. A Vradhu would rather die than break a pledge.

But that was before he’d understood her.

Sorry, brave human. I should not have been so difficult, but with all that has happened, my trust is not given easily. I am Vradhu. We are taught to reject everything from outside.

Because of the traditional Vradhu way—everything from outside is forbidden—the humans and the Vradhu in the hold could easily fall into conflict, although he didn’t think Maki would be foolish enough to allow that to happen.

Still, he had to let them know that the balance had shifted. If Calexa was his makivari, then by extension, so were her people.

With his hands on the sekkhoi throne, Ares opened his mind to the vast power lurking within the walls of the ship. What can I do?

Suddenly, the possibilities became infinite. It was all so easy, so fluid; it felt natural, as if he’d been bonded to the ship his entire life.

How terrifying.

So different to earlier. What has changed?

The fickle bitch had decided not to fight him. Perhaps this had been her plan all along. The Hythra was older and more powerful than he could imagine, and the forces driving her actions were infinitely mysterious. Who knew what the Drakhin had been thinking when they designed their monstrous ships?

Suddenly, an image appeared in his mind—his form, etched in metal.

Ares felt a pang of self-loathing for what he was about to do, but he had no choice. If the Vradhu had been wary of him before, now they would be utterly horrified.

He split his awareness in two, guarding the human while at the same time pushing his will through the metal walls and floors, going deeper and deeper until he reached the lowest levels.

How is this possible?

Perhaps the Hythra had implanted the knowledge in his consciousness. Like the good Hunter that he was, Ares didn’t try to overanalyze things. He simply accepted what he couldn’t change. He lived in the moment, seizing every advantage.

Doing what was necessary.

That was the only way one survived the harsh conditions of the Ardu-Sai.

Never stop moving. Never hesitate. Kill or be killed. It was all he knew. Life was fluid and ever-changing. For a Hunter like Ares, there was no time for regrets or pointless musings, even if he was turning into a monster. Hesitation meant death.

Perhaps this hideous power came at a cost.

Ares formed an image of the ship’s hold in his mind, and suddenly, he was there. He became flat like the glassy surface of the waterplains on a windless day. He became one with the vast floor. His presence was in the walls, in the doors, in the circuitry that connected the vir channels to the Hythra’s core. He felt the auras of dozens of warriors. His people.

His former people.

Even if he managed to shed this terrible silver skin, would they ever accept him again?

The Vradhu horde stared at the human ship, watching and waiting. In turn, Ares observed them from his unseen vantage point. He felt their tension. He sensed their impatience. He shared their curiosity.

The alien ship—Calexa’s ship—had moved. Now it rested against the far wall. It had probably become dislodged and slid across the when Ares lost his temper and tipped the Hythra on her side.

A row of blue lights flickered to life on one side of the vessel. Motors and systems hummed. In unison, the Vradhu pointed their war-spears toward the ship. Its entrance was unsealed—Ares’s ilverium barrier must have fallen apart long ago—but no-one came out.

Unable to communicate, they were caught in a silent standoff.

“Shouldn’t we just go in and flush them out?” Baku, the lowlander with fierce, swirling ankhata on both cheeks, glared at the human craft. “I’m tired of waiting. At this rate, we’ll be here until the next fucking kratok migration.”

“Hold, Baku.” Maki shot him an irritated glare. “We don’t know what they’re capable of. They will need to come out eventually. Patience, my brother. We have time on our side. It isn’t as if we’re in a hurry to go anywhere.” He stood with his arms folded across his bare chest. Unlike the others, Maki didn’t wear his protective kratok skins. His armor had been severely damaged when he’d taken on five wild Corrupted Naaga—alone.

There was a word Ares frequently used to describe The Lord of the Two Clans: reckless.

But Maki was only reckless when it came to his own survival. Where the lives of his men were involved, he was always measured in his decision making.

“Ares went inside and he came out unscathed… with a prize,” Baku said, his black eyes glittering in anticipation. “Those aliens are comely looking creatures. I wouldn’t mind—”

Maki hissed. “Ares is a different beast now. Just because he managed to get out of there unscathed doesn’t mean we will. If we have to fight, it’s best we do so on our terms, not in close quarters where we’d be disadvantaged, or where they could lay some sort of trap.”

“Makes sense.” Baku’s tail twitched nervously as he made the sign of Aethra with his left hand. “That disturbance… do you think it was him? What do you think he’s gonna do?”

Maki smiled, baring his teeth. “I have no doubt it was him. He is lost to us, Baku. We have to accept that Aethra has another plan for him altogether. If it were me, I would be thinking that vessel of theirs could be mighty useful to us, but first we need to be able to communicate. Ares is a logical Hunter. He has taken the alien to get the language implant.”

“Ah, but what’s the point? He can never leave this place. Poor bastard. He’s bonded. Eternally cursed. Why would Aethra allow this to happen to our thrice-blooded brother?” The sliver of pity in Baku’s voice made Ares’s hackles rise. “We might have use for an alien transport, but he—”

“Do not underestimate him, Baku. He is not thrice-blooded for nothing.”

“But he is cursed by magrel tech. We have no answer for it.” Baku’s eyes narrowed. “Do you know something that we don’t, Maki?”

“Ares is a cunning and resourceful warrior. Stubborn, too.” The smile remained on Maki’s lips, but his eyes had grown sharp and wary. “That is why the elders gave him permission to hunt alone. As I said, do not underestimate him. If anyone can find a way out of this mess, it would be Ares-rai-Sekine.” He was staring down at the floor with a quizzical expression on his face, almost as if he sensed Ares lurking beneath them.

“I say we smoke them out like an infestation of pikki,” Vanu blurted. “Set a fire under their ship. If the smoke doesn’t drive them out, the heat will.”

Ares smiled to his ephemeral self. Vanu still was young and naive. His enthusiasm was not yet tempered by experience.

Maki sliced his hand through the air, calling for silence. Wait, he signaled in silent plains-speak.

It is now, or never.

Ares decided this was as good a time as any to emerge from his hiding place, so he summoned his form and pushed it up through the floor, materializing before the Vradhu as…

He didn’t know what he fucking looked like anymore.

“Aethra’s nipples!” Baku roared. “A fucking Drakhin!”

Hisses came from the pack. Magrel. Monster. Darkwalker. Soul eater. Demon. Tainted blood. Several of them made the sign with their fingers. Begone!

Ares knew all too well what they were thinking. It made his temporary skin crawl, but there was nothing he could do about it.

The ilverium solidified, becoming a perfect representation of him, right down to his shimmering scales. Somehow, he was in two places at once. He was down in the command room with Calexa, curled protectively before the sekkhoi throne as he listened to her steady, even breathing. At the same time, he was here, staring down a group of hostile and frightened Vradhu.

Maintaining this form took a considerable amount of concentration and willpower. Luckily, Ares possessed those things in spades.

Instantly, two dozen war-spears were pointed in his direction. Ares shrugged and raised his hands, indicating that he was unarmed. He’d left his krivera with Calexa, because even though the swords were practically an extension of his old self, he no longer had any use for them.

Just like the Drakhin of old had never needed weapons.

Maki’s hand shot out. “Don’t speak the Goddess’s name in vain,” he snapped, slapping Baku on the back of his head. “And lower your spears. All of you. That is no ordinary Drakhin.”

Baku’s eyes widened in shock and recognition. Maki glared at him. After a long pause, Baku shrugged and slowly lowered his weapon.

“Ares. What have you done?” Maki broke away from the group and walked toward him, his stride easy and relaxed. Relief surged through Ares, even as he admired his fellow Hunter’s composure. Maki had not yet rejected him, but then again, Maki was unique amongst the Two Clans.

“How did you know it was me?”

“I know your aura like the back of my own hand, Ares. Whether you wear your Vradhu skin or this metal skin, your essence does not change. You are who you are.”

“You are being uncharacteristically wise, Maki.”

“Uncharacteristically?” Maki grinned. “I am always wise. Besides, your features look exactly the same, just without the ankhata. As ugly as ever.”

Ares snorted.

The warriors behind Maki started to become restless. Seeing a mythical Drakhin—even one formed out of ilverium; a Drakhin who wore the face of a clan-brother—would be driving them all kinds of crazy.

Their collective killing aura was a fearsome thing to behold, and as he bore its full brunt, he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. He’d been expecting it—he’d been prepared for it—but their rejection of him still stung. Pity. Fear. Loathing. Hatred. It was all there, born from deep superstition and rigid tradition and necessity. Ares understood all too well why they might want to kill him. Even though they shared common ancestors, the Vradhu despised the Drakhin. In their eyes, he was corrupted beyond redemption, the embodiment of magrel. Unnatural. That was what the word meant. The Vradhu rejected all things that did not have their origins in nature. They were children of Khira. They were Aethra’s sons and daughters. They had no use for the arcane, the technological, or the destructive.

Ares had become all of those things.

“Poor bastard… we should kill him and save him from this eternal torment,” someone muttered.

“At least we can give him a quick one. He deserves that much.”

“Control your auras,” Maki growled. “None of you will fight Ares under my watch. Do you think any of you can win against him in his current form? Look at him. Truly look at him and remember what is written in the Ancient Stones about Drakhin. Then choose your fates carefully.”

The Vradhu collectively stared at Ares, their auras flaring with fear and hatred.

“I’d rather die at his hand than wither away on this cursed death-crypt,” someone muttered.

Maki silenced the offender with a growl. “Ares,” he said quietly. “Can’t you control those… things?”

“Things?”

“Your, uh…”

Something heavy and strange protruded from Ares’s shoulder blades. Whatever they were, he could feel them. Like arms, but not. Like legs, but not. Large. Powerful. Huh. He moved the new appendages up-and-down, creating a rush of cold air.

Ah. That’s right. I seem to have sprouted… “Wings?”

Of course they were.

Fuck.

Maki lost his composure. “Kratok’s balls, Ares. What the ever-living curses has happened to you? You left as a Vradhu and came back a Drakhin. Don’t tell me the Naaga did something to your body in their cursed sci-labs. And what about the alien? The female? The one who is supposed to be our link? Don’t tell me you—”

“She is unharmed,” Ares snapped, momentarily forgetting about the pressing issue of his newfound wings. “Let it be known that she is makivari to me.”

“Makivari?” Maki blinked. The Vradhu behind him fell silent.

“She saved my life. She has my protection. I may no longer look Vradhu, but clan rules still apply. I have earned that right, have I not?”

“Of course, brother. I will respect your vow of protection. Anyone who would try and come between you and your makivari would be a damn fool. I am many things, but I am not an idiot.” Maki slammed his fist against his breastbone with a resounding thud, his dark eyes full of respect.

It was the lifeline Ares needed right now.

Thank Aethra for your good sense, Maki-ku-Rathra.

Despite his rigid upbringing, Maki was surprisingly open-minded, and he’d jumped to Ares’s defense each and every time he’d fallen afoul of the elders. If there was one thing Ares could do with his newfound powers, it was to try and return The Lord of the Two Clans and his pack to the blessed Ardu-Sai before they became too weak to fight off the Naaga.

They had to get onto that human ship. It was the only way they could escape this doomed vessel.

“Can’t you lower them a little?” Maki was staring at a point somewhere above Ares’s head. “They are… unnerving. You look like you’ve stepped straight out of the Underdark.”

Ares glanced up and saw his wings for the first time. Raised and half outstretched, they curved menacingly above his head. A wave of revulsion coursed through him. He was truly monstrous. Fucking Hythra. What had she done to him? With great effort, he forced them to fold down against his back.

Maki let out a resigned sigh. “Those look… cumbersome.”

Ares grunted. He had nothing else to say about the unsightly appendages. “I came here to inform you that the humans are now under my protection. If any harm comes to them, you will answer to me.”

Dissent rippled through the pack.

“You have no right,” someone shouted. “Why would you even do that? We still don’t know whether they are dangerous. You can’t nullify our kill rights.”

“I just did.”

“You dare disrespect Maki-ku-Rathra’s authority? You would willfully violate the natural laws of Ardu-Sai? You are an insult to your father and to the Vradhu, Ares-rai-Sekine.”

Ares turned. The indignant Vradhu was a stocky pureblood called Rhyn, who’d always seemed to harbor some sort of grudge against Ares.

Many of the purebloods resented the fact that the elders had granted him permission to run alone. They envied the fact that he answered to nobody but himself, and they hated the way Ares didn’t take shit from anyone, not even the haughty mated females of the clans. Ordinarily, Ares couldn’t care less if they spoke ill of him, but that idiot Rhyn had dared to invoke the sacred memory of his father.

A dark undercurrent of rage coursed through him, surprising him in its intensity. He was overwhelmed with a sudden urge to wrap his shapeshifting ilverium hands around Rhyn’s neck and choke him to death. Beneath the anger lay hints of something wild and terrifying… insanity.

This was new. Was the dreaded madness of the Drakhin already taking root?

Ares bit his tongue and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Or at least he tried, until he realized that this current form of his didn’t breathe. Only his true body—the one watching over Calexa—was breathing. Madness! Life in the Ardu-Sai had taught him to accept any situation and deal with sudden danger without blinking an eye, but this split consciousness business was highly disorienting.

Swallowing his anger, Ares stared at Rhyn, a bitter smile spreading across his face. “Do not test me, Rhyn-ap-Barun. Now is not the time. In case you hadn’t realized, I am no longer bound by clan law.” I am no longer Vradhu. He inclined his head and spread his arms, allowing them to take in his monstrous appearance. “Or had you not yet noticed?”

Rhyn bared his teeth a fraction and hissed, but didn’t press the issue further, because Ares raised his wings threateningly, and deep down, everyone in the room knew who would come out on top in a one-on-one fight.

“Whoa, whoa. Stand down, Rhyn. Do you have a death-wish? You do not speak for me.” Maki speared his subordinate with a dark look. After a few moments of tense silence, Rhyn dropped his head, avoiding Maki’s gaze. Maki turned to Ares, looking a little exasperated. “You put me in a difficult position, Ares. If they attack, we must fight, and if you are forced to protect them… Trust me, we don’t want to fight you.”

“No, you don’t.” Ares shook his head. That would be a disaster. “If that is the case, make sure the aliens don’t attack. Convince them we mean no harm. This is the time to put your considerable charms to good use.” He smiled.

Maki shot him an irritated glare. “Feh. That would be a lot easier if we had some way to communicate with them. Was the implant successful? Is the female reasonable? Let her come and commence negotiations.”

“She will be ready when I say she is ready.” There was no fucking way Ares was going to interrupt Calexa’s hard-earned rest. She probably had no idea how close she’d come to death. Her sleep was sacred. “Until then, deal.”

“Deal?”

“Yes.”

“Hey, look over there!” Vanu pointed at the human craft. As if the aliens had been listening in on their conversation—as if they actually understood what was being said—two of them, a male and a female, suddenly appeared in the ship’s doorway.

The Vradhu tensed. Maki hissed in surprise. Ares slowly lowered his wings, wrapping them around his ilverium body like a cloak as he studied the strange creatures. To his surprise, a faint glow surrounded them. He could sense the energy contained within their soft, tail-less bodies.

Vir. It was as strong as Calexa’s—perhaps the male’s aura was even stronger—only these creatures didn’t tempt him the way she did. Her vir was intoxicating.

In turn, the humans stared back at them. Ares recognized the small, shouty one he’d encountered earlier. She stood with her legs apart, her tube-shaped projectile weapon mounted threateningly over one shoulder. Unlike his companion, the male wore no armor, just a long black coat over a simple grey suit. Various bulges beneath the coat told Ares the male was suitably armed and probably dangerous, just like Calexa. He was much taller than the female, standing of a similar height with an average Vradhu, and his skin was a deep shade of brown, almost as dark as the ankhata markings of a mature Vradhu warrior. At first glance, he appeared to be the same species as the female—human—but something about him was different. Ares couldn’t quite pinpoint it. Perhaps it was his eyes, which were the most startling shade of green. Perhaps it was his eerily calm demeanor. There wasn’t even a hint of tension in his stance.

“We… no… harm,” the human said in terrible broken Vradhu. He was reading something off a flat, glassy device in his left hand.

“You can speak Vradhu?” Maki’s voice was full of disbelief.

“I… learn.” The human held up his device. Its surface glowed an unnatural shade of blue. “This help me learn.”

What an interesting piece of magrel. Ares couldn’t even conceive of how such a thing might work. As far as he knew, Vradhu was not spoken beyond the Shadowring. Was the device somehow decoding their speech?

“We no harm,” the alien repeated again, holding up his hands, his palms facing outwards. “No fight.”

Somehow, Ares didn’t entirely believe the human.

“Drop the weapon,” Maki boomed, his voice becoming deep and authoritative. His expression turned fierce. “If you wish to negotiate, you will do so on our terms.”

The humans exchanged words in their strange rapid-fire language. They seemed to be arguing. The Vradhu shifted uneasily on their feet, sensing—and relishing—the possibility of a fight.

Maki shot Ares a pointed look. “We need her, the one you took away. Where are you hiding her?”

Deep in the heart of the ship, in the command chamber, his second self stirred, alerted by a familiar sound. Calexa was in a deep sleep, but danger had crept up on them.

Damn. He really didn’t want to disturb her sleep, but he feared he had no choice.

“I have to go, Maki.” Ares stepped back, unfolding his wings. All of a sudden, the cursed things felt heavy. “I will bring her when she is ready and not a moment sooner. Remember, these humans are under my protection. They will not die under your watch… will they?”

He sank into the floor, leaving behind a chorus of shocked gasps that were punctuated by Maki’s creative and eloquent cursing. If he hadn’t been consumed by such frantic urgency, he might have even found the situation amusing.