The jungle heat had a rhythm. Even underground, it pulsed through the stone like a second heartbeat. The cells were silent, but alive with tension — the kind that clung to skin and made thoughts sweat.

  Rell floated in his restraints, breathing slow.

  His arms ached. His core burned from holding position for so long. But he didn’t complain. His eyes stayed shut.

  His thoughts didn’t.

  He reached out — not physically, but with something deeper. A ripple of energy, channeled from inside. His cuffs sparked once, then dimmed again. The suppressors thought they had him bound.

  They didn’t.

  ::Ko Mala.::

  The voice shot through the ether like a spear.

  Across the complex, in a reinforced cage built for monsters, Ko Mala jolted upright — golden eyes flaring wide.

  ::Rell? How—? You—::

  ::They think I’m sealed. I’m not.::

  A long silence passed. Then a low mental laugh filled the link like rolling thunder.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  ::You slippery bastard.::

  Rell gave a small smirk, unseen in the dark.

  ::I’ve had worse spots.::

  ::You hanging like jungle fruit in a butcher’s shack. That ain’t worse?::

  ::I could leave.::

  ::Then why stay?::

  ::Because I’m not walking out alone. I’m getting everyone off this rock.::

  Ko Mala exhaled through his nose, the sound like distant drums. His broad, fur-covered fists flexed once against the cuffs.

  ::You’re risking too much.::

  ::We’ve risked more for less.::

  ::Fair.::

  Their bond held a second longer before fading back into silence. Not because the magic faded, but because they didn’t need more words.

  Elsewhere in the base, the mood was different.

  In the second holding pen, Thessia knelt beside Lirah, the young elf girl still curled beneath a makeshift rag blanket. Her breathing was short, skin pale. She hadn’t eaten in two days.

  “She’s burning up,” Thessia muttered.

  “She needs water, not your prayers,” Neyxa replied, arms crossed. Her voice was cool, but her eyes flicked to Lirah with concern.

  “I’ve been trying to keep her calm. She hasn’t spoken since they took the others.”

  Neyxa crouched low.

  “We need Rell.”

  Thessia didn’t respond. But the twitch in her jaw said enough.

  Neyxa leaned closer, voice lowering.

  “You think he’s okay?”

  “I think he’s Rell,” Thessia said flatly.

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “I know.”

  The pirate camp roared outside — voices cracking through the trees, orders shouted over fire, boots smashing through brush.

  Two captives, both older men, were being dragged across the clearing by chains. One limped. The other was barely moving — just groaning, ribs clearly broken from earlier beatings.

  “Line ‘em up!” one of the pirates barked.

  “No more delayin’! Boss says labor crew thins out today!”

  The men were forced to their knees before the jungle pit. Dozens of pirates watched, laughing, drinking, tossing bones to dogs.

  One of the chained men begged, voice cracked and dry.

  “We… we didn’t fight. We did what you said…”

  “You’re old. And we’re bored,” a pirate said, yawning.

  The captain of this squad — a brute with tusk piercings and blood-stained boots — lifted his curved machete high.

  “Let’s see what kind of fertilizer you make.”

  He swung.

  The blade cleaved through the kneeling man’s neck in one brutal chop.

  Blood sprayed hot into the grass. His body slumped forward. The pirates howled like jackals.

  The second captive screamed.

  “Shut ‘im up,” the brute growled.

  One pirate moved quick and buried a spiked boot into the man’s chest, silencing him with a crunch that echoed like a drumbeat.

  Nearby, two younger pirates clapped.

  “Ain’t nothin’ like breakfast and blood, aye?”

  This wasn’t war.

  It was hunger dressed in pride.

  And from within their cages, every captive — man, woman, or child — felt the truth:

  No one was safe.

  Chapter End.