The wind stopped howling, replaced by the deep, mechanical hum of a starship engine.
The Abyssal Dragon landed heavily on the deck of the Tyrant—Kael's flagship, a black steel fortress floating in the void.
Kael didn't offer a hand. He simply dissolved the energy field protecting them. Lyra stumbled, her bare feet hitting the cold, hard metal plating.
"Take the dragon to the feeding bay," Kael ordered, ignoring the woman shivering behind him.
"Yes, Lord!"
Dozens of soldiers in black armor surrounded them. They didn't look like royal guards; they looked like bandits, smelling of blood and ozone. Their mounts were terrifying—armored wolves, saber-toothed tigers, and giant scorpions.
Every pair of eyes—human and beast—locked onto Lyra.
She was wearing a torn, thin sacrificial robe. Her white skin was exposed to the biting cold of the artificial atmosphere. In their eyes, she saw lust, contempt, and mockery.
To them, she wasn't a princess anymore. She was just loot. Fresh meat brought back by their Alpha.
"Another toy, Lord?" A tall man with a scar across his face stepped forward. It was Viper, Kael's Vice-General. He looked Lyra up and down, spitting on the deck. "A Lingyao Princess? She looks too fragile. She won't last a night in your bed."
The soldiers laughed. The sound was harsh and grating.
Lyra felt fear—her biological instinct screamed at her to run. But her mind was colder than the steel beneath her feet.
They want to see me cry. They want to see me beg.
Lyra took a deep breath. She didn't cover her exposed skin. She didn't cower. Instead, she straightened her back, raised her chin, and looked Viper dead in the eye.
"Fragile?" Lyra's voice was calm, cutting through the laughter. She stepped over the spit on the deck as if it were dirt. "I jumped from a ten-thousand-meter altar to stand here. What have you done today, Vice-General? Polished your master's boots?"
The laughter stopped instantly.
Viper's face turned red. His hand went to his blaster. "You b*tch—"
"Enough."
A single word from Kael froze everyone.
Kael turned around. He looked at Lyra with a new expression. It wasn't kindness; it was the look of a predator watching a rabbit bite back.
"You have a sharp tongue," Kael said, walking towards her. He grabbed her arm and dragged her toward the command tower. "Let's see if your value matches your arrogance."
Inside the Commander's Quarters.
The door hissed shut, locking out the noise. The room was dark, lit only by the holographic map of the galaxy.
Kael didn't waste time. He pushed Lyra against the cold metal wall. His hand wrapped around her throat—not choking her, but holding her pulse, feeling the frantic beat of her heart.
"The location," Kael demanded, his voice low and dangerous. "Where is the True God?"
Lyra struggled to breathe, but she forced a smile. She raised her hands and rested them on his wide shoulders, her fingers tracing the cold metal of his armor.
"If I tell you now..." Lyra whispered, "I become useless. And useless things... get thrown out the airlock."
"You are bargaining with your life," Kael tightened his grip slightly. "I have torturers who can peel your mind open layer by layer."
"Go ahead," Lyra challenged, staring into his golden, vertical pupils. "My mind has a self-destruct seal. The moment I feel pain, the secret vanishes."
It was a lie. A gamble. But Kael didn't know that.
Kael stared at her. He saw the cunning in her eyes. She was a snake wrapped in a princess's skin.
"Fine," Kael let go of her throat. Lyra gasped, sliding down the wall slightly.
"You want to survive?" Kael looked down at her, his gaze stripping her bare. "Prove that you are useful. Until then, you are not a guest here. You are a pet."
He pressed a button on his comms. "Viper."
"Lord?"
"Take the woman to the Kennel."
Lyra's eyes widened. The Kennel wasn't a prison. It was where they kept the captured, untamed beasts before breaking them.
"The... Kennel?" Lyra asked, her voice faltering for the first time.
"You said you'd be my obedient pet," Kael smirked, cruel and heartless. "Pets sleep in cages. If you survive the night, maybe I'll give you a room."
The Kennel. Lower Deck.
The smell was unbearable—urine, rotting meat, and fear.
Viper shoved Lyra forward. He was enjoying this. "Here is your palace, Princess."
He opened a rusted iron door and threw her inside.
"Enjoy your roommates," Viper laughed, slamming the door shut. The lock clicked.
Total darkness engulfed her.
Lyra fell onto the damp straw. Her knees were bleeding. She was trembling, not from cold, but from adrenaline.
He is testing me, Lyra told herself, clenching her fists. He wants to see if I break. I won't.
She stood up, her eyes adjusting to the gloom.
A low growl vibrated from the corner of the cell.
Lyra froze.
Two glowing green eyes appeared in the dark. Then, the sound of claws scraping against metal.
It wasn't a cell for humans. She had been thrown into a cage with a Star-Wolf—a beast known for tearing its prey apart alive.
The beast stepped into the faint light filtering from the corridor. It was huge, starving, and drooling. It looked at the fragile girl in the white dress and saw dinner.
Lyra didn't scream. She didn't pound on the door.
She slowly reached into her sleeve, her fingers curling around the sharp shard of obsidian she had secretly picked up from the altar before jumping.
"Come on then," Lyra whispered to the monster, her eyes burning with a desperate, savage will to live. "Eat me, or obey me."