________________

Trigger Warning: Graphic violence, torture, death, implied sexual threat, and emotional distress. _________________

Screams echoed all around us—women’s shrieks, the clash of weapons, the snarls of men fighting for their lives.

Iker’s blood was warm, pooling over my hand where I tried to stop the flow from his arm.

He shifted slightly, his body trembling, and I saw it—the deep, jagged wound left by a scorpion's sting.

And then I saw him.

A Scorpion feral.

Not like the ones I’d seen when I first arrived here. No—this one was worse.

His body twisted and grotesque, his chitinous tail twitching, dripping with venom.

And his face.

Four stripes.

A four-striped feral.

Iker was three stripes.

The realization slammed into me. This was a setup.

They had come from the frozen river, hidden beneath the ice, waiting for the perfect moment to attack.

And we were right at the edge.

A perfect target.

Iker jerked, ripping the sting from his arm, forcing himself to stand despite the obvious pain. His right arm was limp, blood dripping steadily onto the lush green grass.

For a bird beastman, his arms were everything. And now, one of his was useless.

The scorpion feral grinned. "You took that pretty well, bird." His voice was mocking, his tail curling, ready to strike again.

Iker didn’t respond. His eyes were darting—calculating, searching for a way out.

But there was none.

The ferals were everywhere, outnumbering the males.

I saw beastmen being thrown aside, their bodies collapsing against the ground as the ferals ripped them away from their mates.

Some females were saved—their bird mates carrying them away, lifting them to safety.

But Iker?

He was grounded.

His wings were useless in human form, and with his injured arm, shifting now would only make him an easier target.

His blood was still pouring.

If I had just one of the emeralds Allmer had given me. Just one.

But I had nothing.

Iker understood his situation.

His body coiled, shifting into a defensive stance, his good arm raised, protecting me.

Buying time.

Waiting for Felix. Or Ace.

Someone.

But no one was coming.

I clenched my fists, my entire body shaking.

I hated this.

Hated being so helpless.

Hated that he was standing here, bleeding out, trying to keep me safe.

And I couldn’t do anything.

The ferals struck again.

Iker yanked me with him, his movements fast but clumsy from blood loss. The sting barely grazed his thigh, but the pain was enough to make him grunt.

Again. Again.

The Scorpion feral was enjoying this.

"Pretty female, leave this useless meat and come here. Let’s have fun," he leered, his black eyes glinting with amusement.

I wanted to say something. To scream. To fight.

But nothing came out.

This wasn't like last time.

Back then, I had just jumped into the river and gotten lucky.

Now?

The river was full of ferals.

Even if I ran, there was nowhere to go.

Iker dodged again. And again. And again.

But he couldn’t land a single hit.

A three-striped beastman lasting this long against a four-striped feral was already a miracle.

But he was at his limit.

His breaths were ragged, his stance unsteady.

The poison was spreading.

Too much.

Too much.

If he took another sting—he would die.

And the Scorpion feral knew it.

He was toying with him.

A hit.

Iker barely blocked it, stumbling.

Another hit.

He collapsed.

"No!" I tried to move, but Iker pushed me back with his good arm, struggling to stand again.

Another hit.

Another.

Another.

Iker was no longer standing in front of me.

He was on the ground.

Far away.

Still—still—he tried to stand.

I didn’t even realize when my tears started falling.

This was because of me.

They wanted me.

Iker was dying because of me.

And yet—he still stood.

He clashed with the Scorpion again, a losing battle, a desperate attempt to buy time.

But it was useless.

The males around us were dead.

Their bodies scattered, limbs and heads torn apart.

I felt sick.

Behind them, I saw Nia.

She was being dragged by her hair by a snake feral, her body limp and lifeless.

Her mates—whom I had seen every day, laughing, training—

Dead.

Dead.

I wanted to vomit.

This was real.

This wasn’t a dream.

This was happening.

And I—I couldn't do anything.

It was a nightmare.

A living, breathing, unescapable nightmare.

I wanted it to end.

Wake up.

Please—wake up.

But it was real.

"AHHHH!"

Iker screamed.

The Scorpion feral had his injured arm in a death grip, twisting—crushing.

"IKER!" I screamed, my voice hoarse, my throat burning from the force of it.

Tears were blinding me, drenching my face, but I didn’t care.

I moved—was about to run to him—

"NO! STAY WHERE YOU ARE!"

Iker’s roar froze me in place.

But the Scorpion only laughed.

And twisted harder.

CRACK.

Iker's scream tore through the air, raw, agonized.

"STOP! STOP, PLEASE!" I was sobbing, my body shaking so violently I almost collapsed.

Where’s Ace?

Where’s Felix?

Where is anyone?

Iker—he was breaking. Because of me.

Guess the Scorpion had had enough fun.

He dropped Iker like trash.

Like he was nothing.

Iker hit the ground, limp, gasping, his good hand barely pressing against the mangled one.

The Scorpion turned to me.

And walked forward.

No.

No, no, no—

I stumbled back, tried to run.

Iker had fought so hard to keep him from me—I couldn’t just wait for him to take me.

But he was too fast.

He was in front of me in an instant.

A lethal hand lashed out, grabbing my arm—

Tight.

Painful.

It hurt.

"Let me go!" I kicked, thrashed, but he was too strong.

His grip tightened, enough to make my bones creak.

"You’re a feisty little thing," he grinned, pulling me closer.

I tried to rip away—but my nails barely scratched his half male half scorpion skin.

His face was so close now.

I could smell the blood, the stench of rotting flesh on his breath.

"You’ll do nicely."

Terror slammed into me.

No.

NO.

I won’t let this happen.

I WON’T.

Something tore into the Scorpion's hand.

Teeth.

Claws.

His grip on me shattered, and I stumbled back, gasping.

The Scorpion feral snarled in pain, his black eyes widening.

And then—

A blur of orange and black stripes.

A massive force slammed into him, knocking him away from me with a bone-crunching impact.

Felix.