11
Bryn
If Astra had wanted me dead, I’d be long gone already.
Instead, she paced the floor before me and let the air heave in and out of my lungs, let me bleed. The cuts weren’t deep, and I figured out by the way all of her people kept sniffing at the air that my blood had a purpose.
Bait. I was bait.
And these Hyperion hybrids could scent me as easily as I could smell them. Perhaps even more so. I didn’t know much about the animalistic barbarians on the planet below, but I knew the legions on Rogue 5 were strong, intelligent and lethal. They operated in a pack mentality that was as instinctive as it was resilient. Their people survived, thrived, were a formidable force.
“Styx is approaching.” One of the scouts shouted down from the rafters in the ceiling where he was perched like a
