12. Mia

MIA

Wyre peered through the window at the ship as it came down to land. He tossed the butcher’s knife up in the air, spinning around, and caught it before it moved more than an inch from his palm. He handled it like he really knew how to use it.

For the first time since I heard the shuttle approach, I began to hope. Judging by Wyre’s reaction to seeing whatever ship was outside had clearly put him on high alert. It wasn’t an ally but an enemy.

Maybe even—dare I even think it—Rivvac?

And when he pounded his fist on the door and yelled at the top of his voice to open up, I couldn’t help but whimper with glee.

It was him! I’d never been so overwhelmed with relief my entire life.

“Rivvac!” I cried.

The lizard snapped around to glare at me, licking his lips as if he wanted to say something… then hesitated.

“Has he hurt you?” Rivvac bellowed on the other side of the door.

“No. But he’s armed! He’s got a knife and—”

Wyre hissed as he slithered toward me, his bright yellow eyes shining bright. He hauled me up onto my feet, his claw wrapped tightly around my mouth.

I couldn’t speak, fearing that if I made another sound he wouldn’t have hesitated to bring his blade across my throat.

He turned me toward the door and placed the knife’s razor-sharp edge to my throat. And waited.