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Lyra

The moment I saw him, my lungs simply stopped working.

I had been trying to focus on Sora’s explanations, trying to watch the younger hunters leap and spin, but my internal compass was spinning wildly until it locked onto North. Kaelen stood on the high Master’s perch, a crimson god carved out of shadow and gold. Even from across the arena, I felt the weight of his presence like a physical pressure against my skin. My body reacted before my brain could even process the sight; a sharp, liquid heat blossomed deep in my core, making the silk-soft fur of my new outfit feel suddenly abrasive against my sensitised skin. I tried to look away, to be the "stubborn scientist" again, but the braid in my hair felt like a heavy tether, pulling my gaze back to him over and over.

Then, the world shattered.

The Ghar-beast didn't follow the choreography of the trial. One moment it was a controlled threat; the next, it was a blurred engine of destruction. The sound it made wasn't a growl—it was a wet, soul-tearing shriek that signalled the end of the "game."

"Kaelen!" Sora’s scream was lost in the roar of the crowd as the creature pinned the young initiate, its jaws inches from the boy's throat.

I didn't see Kaelen move. I only saw the result.

He didn't take the stairs. He dived.

He hit the arena floor like a meteor, the impact vibrating through the wooden tiers and up into the soles of my feet. It was violent and immediate. Beside me, I felt Sora's entire body go rigid with terror. "Toren! Toren, get back!"

I saw her brother dive into the fray alongside Kaelen, his teal silks a flash of colour against the beast’s dark scales. Sora’s hand gripped my arm so hard her claws pricked my skin. "He’s too close, Lyra! He’s going to get crushed!"

"Sora, look at him," I urged, my voice surprisingly steady despite the adrenaline spiking in my own blood. "Toren can handle himself. He’s faster than that thing." Toren was a blur of teal lightning, dancing around the beast’s flanks and landing shallow stabs to distract it, but Kaelen was the storm. He didn't use a training weapon; he gripped his heavy, bone-tipped spear with a knuckles-white intensity that suggested he was barely holding back his own predatory instincts.

He slammed into the beast’s flank, the sheer force of his shoulder-check throwing the multi-ton predator off the boy. The beast lashed out, a massive, scaled tail whipping around and catching Toren square in the chest. Toren flew backwards, skidding across the iron-wood floor.

"Toren!" Sora wailed.

Kaelen didn't even look back as he stepped between the beast and his fallen friend. "Toren! Get the initiates out of here! Move the others to safety—now!"

Toren coughed, rolling to his feet with a grimace, and immediately began ushering the terrified fledglings toward the exits. He gave Kaelen a singular, sharp nod before disappearing into the chaos of the retreating crowd.

I watched, frozen at the railing, my knuckles white as I gripped the wood. I should have been terrified. I was watching a man I’d shared intimate moments with turn into a killing machine. But as I watched him move—muscles corded and gleaming with sweat, his markings a blinding, furious gold and red—I didn't feel fear.

I felt a primitive, bone-deep awe. And beneath that... a hunger so sharp it made my head swim.

Kaelen was dominating. He ducked under a swipe that would have decapitated a lesser male, his spear whistling through the air as he drove the bone-tip deep into the creature's shoulder. The beast shrieked, spraying thick, dark ichor across Kaelen’s chest. He didn't flinch. He looked like a demon born of blood and sunlight, his skin slick with the creature's life-force, his eyes glowing with a terrifying, lunar madness.

His pupils were so blown out that his eyes were almost entirely black, ringed only by a thin, glowing sliver of amber. He was slipping. The Huntmaster receded, and the Primal took over. In the chaos, Kaelen’s head snapped toward the crowd. For a fraction of a second, his gaze locked onto mine. The air between us sizzled amidst the tribe’s screaming.

But then, the beast’s head twitched.

The Ghar-beast went still, its blood-leaking nostrils flaring as it caught something. Its head swivelled, ignoring the hunters, ignoring Kaelen. Its red, panicked eyes locked onto me with a terrifying, singular focus.

Oh, fuck... I thought, my blood turning to ice. It’s me. It wants me.

The creature didn't bother to roar this timeI—it just lunged, scrambling over the inner barrier with a terrifying, unnatural speed, its focus entirely on me.

"Lyra!" Sora screamed, trying to pull me back, but I was rooted to the spot.

I saw the beast mid-air, its claws outstretched.

And then I saw Kaelen go full rage.

He let out a sound that wasn't Oru-ka or Vakra—it was the voice of the forest itself, a guttural, earth-shaking roar of pure, unadulterated protectiveness. He blurred. He moved faster than the beast and intercepted it in mid-air. He tackled the creature into the central pit, his hands finding the beast’s throat.

It was a slaughter. He didn't just kill it; he unmade it. He slammed it into the iron-wood floor over and over, his claws tearing through scales as if they were paper. He was a whirlwind of crimson and gold, his hands stained dark to the elbows, his teeth bared in a snarl that was more animal than man.

I watched him, my breath coming in shallow hitches. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears, and a sudden, heavy dampness pooled between my thighs. I felt feral for him. The sight of his raw strength, the absolute violence he used to ensure my safety, triggered something ancient and undeniable in me. I was soaking through my undercloth, the heat of my own arousal making me lightheaded, my body screaming to be claimed by the monster who had just saved me.

The beast finally went still, its head lolling at an impossible angle, its blood pooling beneath Kaelen’s feet.