**Chapter: Night with Maya**
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The first wolf lunged at Kael, but he swung the katana and Hacked off its head.
Then the second Wolf, jaws snapping at Kael's throat. He didn't flinch.
**"Burn,"** Kael snarled, and his body erupted.
Flames coiled around him like serpents, spiraling into a roaring tornado. The wolf's fur ignited mid-leap, its howl cut short as the inferno consumed it, reducing the beast to ash in seconds. The firestorm died as quickly as it began, leaving Kael panting, his skin smoldering but unburnt.
Mark watched from the tree, his red eye tracking the remaining wolves. **"Eight left,"** he called down. **"Don't waste my blade."**
Kael gripped the katana, its edge glowing faintly with residual heat. The wolves circled, wary now, but hunger drove them forward.
The boy moved.
He carved through the pack like a wildfire—slash, pivot, slash. The katana's edge split skulls, severed limbs, and pierced hearts. Each kill fed the flames flickering at his fingertips until the clearing reeked of charred meat and ozone.
When the last wolf collapsed, Kael stood amidst the carnage, his chest heaving, the katana dripping molten blood.
Mark dropped from the branch, landing silently. **"Not bad,"** he said, reclaiming his blade. **"But next time, aim for the eyes. Faster kill."**
Kael nodded, still trembling with adrenaline.
---
The colonists' camp was a patchwork of flickering fires and makeshift tents. Ren leaned against the ship's rusted hull, cleaning his dagger. Lira sat nearby, her blue hair matted with wolf blood, a jagged gash on her arm glowing faintly green.
**"Took you long enough,"** Ren said, eyeing Kael's singed clothes. **"What'd the kid get? Fireworks?"**
**"Firestorm,"** Mark said. **"The girl?"**
Ren jerked his chin at Lira. A gust of wind sliced through the air beside her, leaving a faint scar in the metal wall.
**"Wind Blade,"** Ren said. **"Cuts anything but her damn nerves."**
Lira flushed but didn't look up.
Mark grunted. **"They'll learn."**
---
The stars were blotted out by the spaceship's shadow, its westward crawl a constant hum in the distance. Mark sat at the camp's edge, sharpening his katana. The Blood Demon's voice had been quiet since the hydra's heart—too quiet.
Maya found him there. She sat without asking, her pendant casting a faint blue glow over the dirt.
**"Kael's hands are burned,"** she said. **"Lira's arm is infected. The acid… it's spreading."**
Mark kept sharpening. **"And?"**
**"And you're sitting here. Alone."**
He paused, the whetstone hovering above the blade. **"What do you want me to do, Maya? Cry over wolves?"**
She gripped her pendant tighter. **"I want you to stop pretending you're not human."**
A bitter laugh escaped him. **"Look at my eyes and say that again."**
Maya turned to him, unflinching. **"You think the demon's all that's left? Lena didn't love a monster."**
The name hit like a gut punch. Mark's knuckles whitened around the katana's hilt. **"Lena's gone."**
**"But you're not,"** Maya whispered. **"Not yet."**
Silence stretched, broken only by the spaceship's drone.
Then—
[Ahhhhhh]
A roar was heard.
Mark stood, sheathing his blade. **"Go back inside, Maya."**
**"You're not going after it tonight,"** she said, more plea than command.
He glanced at the treeline, his red eye gleaming. **"The system doesn't sleep. Neither do I."**
---
As a strange energy surged through Mark's body, a low whisper echoed in his mind, stirring something primal inside him. He clenched his jaw, trying to resist, but the sensation wasn't dark—it was overwhelming, magnetic.
His eyes met Maya's. Her gaze didn't waver. There was no fear, only curiosity… and something deeper. Desire.
He stepped closer, gently lifting her chin with his fingers. "Do you want this?" he asked, voice low and steady.
Maya nodded slowly, her breath catching. "Yes… I do."
They sank to the ground together, the world around them fading. Mark undid his belt, his movements slow, deliberate. Maya's hands moved with equal intent, her touch warm and sure. There were no words now—only the rhythm of shared breath, the quiet gasp of anticipation, the slow burning tension that finally broke when they came together.
Their bodies moved as one, guided by instinct and emotion. Mark held her close, every thrust an unspoken promise, every kiss a confession. Time slipped away as they lost themselves in each other.
Later, wrapped in the quiet afterglow, Maya rested her head against his chest. Mark's arm curled protectively around her, their bodies still warm from the closeness they'd shared.
Neither spoke. They didn't need to. In that silence, they simply breathed—together—until sleep found them both.