All around me, the others are dropping to the ground, covering their ears and eyes as the sound intensifies. Even Solan, usually so composed, so fucking strong, is grimacing in pain.
Through the haze of noise and agony, one thought pushes through:We’re too late.
The scream cuts off as abruptly as it began, leaving a deafening silence in its wake. My ears ring, and I stagger to my feet, my vision swimming. Around me, others are slowly recovering, groaning and shaking their heads as they regain their bearings.
Solan is beside me in an instant, gripping my arm like a lifeline. Through our bond, I feel his fear and fury, a tempest barely held in check.
“I’m fine,” I rasp.
“Stay close,” he murmurs, his tone sharper than usual. His eyes flicker with golden light, his power stirring beneath the surface.
Ahead, Nera hisses low and urgent, its serpentine body coiling tightly. The bark-skinned rebel translates. “They’ve found something.”
We move cautiously towards the source of Nera’s focus, the tension palpable. The group fans out slightly, weapons drawn, every step deliberate. Then we see it.
The body lies sprawled across the cracked ground, unmistakably lifeless. It’s not human—its skin is mottled grey, its limbs elongated, and its face bears no nose, just slitted nostrils and a wide, lipless mouth. A creature I’ve never seen before.
Before anyone can say anything, Jamie calls out, “There’s someone else!”
We all turn to see him standing over another figure—a man, human, unconscious, dressed in snow-boots, a thin undershirt, and boxers.
“Jesus,” I mutter, rushing to his side. “Snow-boots? Where the hell did he come from?”
The man’s skin is pale, his lips chapped, and he’s shivering despite the heat of the air around us. I press two fingers to his neck and feel a faint pulse. Relief floods through me.
“He’s alive,” I say, looking up at the others.
Blood smears across my fingers as I check his head for injuries. “Shit.” I wipe my hands on my shirt, removing the stain.
One of the stronger rebels, a hulking creature with leathery skin and thick, hornlike protrusions, steps forwards. “I’ll carry him,” it rumbles, its voice deep and gravelly.
The man is hoisted onto the creature’s back as Shanae instructs the leathery-skinned creature and one other to turn back, return to Dathanor, and let Varek know we’re going to press on. We’ve still yet to find the rift, and we don’t even know if the dead creature was killed by the human or something else.
As they head away, my gaze remains on the limp form. The guy looks young, maybe early twenties. He’s slim, fit… and those damn snow-boots just leave me scratching my head as I finally look away to follow the big centipede.
The next hour is tense, the group moving cautiously as we search for any other signs of the merge. The heat is oppressive, but there’s no sign of snow—just more of Terrafeara’s rugged, alien terrain. We stop for a break near a cluster of strange bulbous plants that hum faintly, their tendrils pulsing with colour.
I sit beside Jamie, who looks exhausted but determined. Solan stands nearby, his gaze sweeping the horizon, ever vigilant.
The attack comes without warning.
A hand clamps over my mouth, and I feel the cold press of a blade against my throat.
“Don’t move,” a voice hisses in my ear, thick with a heavy accent.
My heart races as I’m yanked backwards onto my feet, my captor dragging me away from the group. Out of the corner of my eye, I see another figure emerge—a Glowranth, its bioluminescent markings glowing fiercely. This one is larger, its movements precise and deliberate.
“Jack!” Solan’s voice is a roar, and I feel his rage ignite through our bond.
The first Glowranth—the one holding me—steps slightly to my side so I’m able to take them in. He… definitely male… is different from the others I’ve encountered, his features more refined, his presence commanding. A distinctive mark glows on his chest, a sigil etched into his skin like a birthmark.
“Prince Aelith,” Solan spits, his tone dripping with venom.
The fuck?
This dick is the missing prince?
The Glowranth prince narrows his luminous eyes at Solan. “Hunter,” he says in English, his voice cold. “Interesting company you’re keeping, and days away from Myra’s Crossing.”
