Chapter 20 · First Human Hunt

"Still breathing, little parasite? Or did the shock kill you?"

Weaver’s voice was a velvet needle, stitching right into my nerves. Her silk thread was still tight around my throat, pulling my head back just enough that I had to look up into those predatory eyes. I could feel the heat coming off her skin—too warm, like a fever—and the faint scent of crushed orchids and old blood.

I didn't pull away. I leaned into it. My new body felt tight, hungry, and the spikes along my spine were still humming from the evolution.

"I've had worse," I rasped. My voice sounded like grinding stones. "You want your price? Name it, or let me go so I can find something to eat."

Lyra stepped forward, her boots crunching on the grit of the pit. Her face was a mess of conflict—half disgusted, half fascinated. "He’s insane. Weaver, he actually laughed while those hounds were ripping him apart. Who the hell is this guy?"

Weaver didn't look at her. Her fingers trailed down my chest, grazing the edge of a new, obsidian-hard scale. "He’s a glitch in the system, Lyra. A little shadow that refuses to stay dead. I like glitches.