Hi to everyone! I'm so happy to be back! I know, long time passed and I'm sorry if someone that was waiting with so much trepidation another chapter is now disappointed. My life and my work are really putting me upside down. I hope that each of you is ok, and I thank all the people who appreciate my work so much to leave me a review, I listen to all your advice and suggestions. As always, if you find some really horrible mistake please let me notice, and help me with my English. Thank you again, and I hope you enjoy!

Ne'veah was growling. I couldn't see him, trapped as I was, only hear his weak roars that so strenuously attempted to sound threatening and that each time stabbed my heart when they were silenced by a vicious kick, as the Badblood kept him on the ground. He kicked him, so much I lost count, as the tears that started falling from my eyes. And each blow resounded in my ears like a nightmare, until the silence fell on us. Was…was he dead? My Ne'veah was dead?

"Ne-ve-ah…" I stammered, the suffering unbearable. As if he noticed only now I was still in his grip, the Yautja turned to me. My gaze focused on him, fueling a rage hidden only from the pain I was bearing

"Da-cha-nde…" I wanted to say his name with all the hatred I could muster, but it turned out just pathetic. Dachande said nothing, just kept watching the suffering on my face with those cruel and crazy eyes, his mandibles twisted into an amused grin. I couldn't understand how I could have been so idiot in believing a Yautja I barely knew, but this was the last of my problems now.

His grip tightened around my throat, suddenly and painfully, sending sparks of pure terror along my body. I barely realized that my mouth opened wide in the desperate need of air, an unconscious and automatic gesture, as in that moment there was nothing else except the burning of my lungs, the pain on my neck, and the darkness that was making its way through my eyes. And when I thought I was going to faint, that this was the end of everything, and total despair began to slowly creep into my head, his fingers loosened the grip, and the air came back. I coughed violently, feeling the urgent need to vomit, panting heavily; but the relief lasted too short. I got just the time to take two breaths that again my throat was caught in a steel trap, again bringing me near the darkest abyss. And again, and again. The torture was exhausting, more in my mind than in my body. I was scared, for Ne'veah, for me, for the clan, and the only comfort were the tears that kept falling

"Disgusting lou-dte kale" his deep ad guttural voice pierced my mind like a nail "I'll take my time to have my revenge on you"

My body instinctively shivered for the fear. He brought me the nearest tree, and I heard the sound of my bones cracking when he slammed me against the bark. My cry was instantly muffled by his hand on my face; his claws pressed on my already broken mandible, clutching my cheeks so hard that the pain could make me faint. I could no longer contain the sobs, feeling helpless, humiliated, and useless. Ne'veah, Ne'veah….

"It would have been almost funny" started the bastard, in a nightmarish growl "a pathetic weak Ooman able to ruin my plans. You should have stayed on your little miserable planet" the grin appeared again on his face "now die in pain"

I could not scream, I could not talk. When the blades appeared in front of me, despite the fear, the only thought was that death would be the right punishment for my mistakes. I failed. I failed in front of Elise, Ate'yo, Sain'ja…my Ne'veah. I could do nothing; I always knew I could do nothing, I tried but it wasn't enough. Desperately I forced to move my limbs for a last, extreme defense, not knowing what to do, only thinking about my love. The pain became even bigger when I realized that my body did not respond to me. The End. Game Over. Tears still there. I just closed my eyes and prepare myself

"Look me Ooman! I want you to look at me when I will kill you!" he forced my face up, lifting me off the ground. I weakly obeyed, conscious I couldn't refuse, loosing myself in that amber orbs, seeing how much he was enjoying every single drop of my pain. The blades were dancing between us, as if it had to decide what part strike first. The grin never leaved his face

"Good girl" he rumbled satisfied, his voice slowly turning in to a whisper "but not enough" he leaned towards me, his breath caressing my face. The repulsion pervaded me as the mandibles touched my cheeks, and the warmth of his body got closer and closer. A chill ran down my body when his tongue licked my ear. No, no…

"I'm not Dachande"

…What?

There was no time for another thought. He released me and let me fall on the ground, and I barely had the time to look the grass that his hand was on me again, grabbing my hair and violently pulling up, stealing me another cry. I was panting heavily for the pain, my eyes focused on him

"I surprised you I suppose" he openly laughed "my stupid brother did an excellent job"

My eyes went wide. What? How?

"Sei-I, someone could have noticed it" he advanced my question "but how, after all I should be dead…" a deep, guttural rumble resounded in the air "…I was there when Li'ya was killed"

The pieces suddenly came back in their places. Twins. There were two twins with Li'ya; one was Dachande, the other this Yautja. I didn't know how he survived in the fight with Ne'veah, but it didn't matter; what was important was that the enemy has always been between us, hiding with another identity; and Li'ya…has been sacrificed for the purposes of this motherfucker!

"That's the expression I wanted to see" he rumbled amused, bringing the knife under my throat "Be prepared, I'll be sl…"

I spat on his face. The gesture was terribly painful, I could feel my mandible swell and hot, but I couldn't restrain myself. His astonished gaze was for me an immense satisfaction, but was immediately replaced by a fire of anger. His mandibles spread wide, growling, and his chest was preparing a roar that would haunt my sleep for many nights. But it didn't happen.

Another roar exploded in the air, and the bastard barely avoided the blow pointed to his head, that crashed his plasma cannon. Ne'veah turned the arm and hit his one, and I fell again on the ground, finally free from his grip. Ne'veah! My Ne'veah! The joy was stronger than any pain. Other blows arrived, and his opponent was forced to step back and take the distance, giving both the time to take a breath. The relief for seeing him lasted short; a second look showed me the gravity of the situation: he was seriously injured, covered with bruises and deep scratches, and the wound in his side showed no signs of stop bleeding. His right arm was twisted in an unnatural position, and when he turned to me the bones of the mandibles dangled as ornaments on the mouth.

Our eyes met, and thousands of emotions shocked my body, before his roar resounded in the forest, charging the opponent for another round. I wanted to scream, to beg him to not go, but I suffocated it. He was a hunter, he was fighting for me and for his clan; there was no escape from this, and if I had to die, I would do it alongside my mate.

The knife.

My mind immediately went to the weapon, forcing my head to turn and search it. Every move was a pain, even worse when I tried to get up, but I pushed myself to be quick, to be fast. I found and took the knife with my left hand, trying to not look to my right wrists and the big purple stain on it, focusing only to the fight. Ne'veah was trying to keep the distance, probably avoiding another clinch, the spear clanging against the blades. And I...froze. What could I do? I tried to attack the Badblood and I failed; I wasn't a huntress, or a fighter. In that battle of giants, I was little more than an annoying insect. My legs were trying to push me to go, my mind was stopping them, and my heart was bleeding as each blow of the Badblood went closer and closer to my mate. I stood there, petrified, a mixture of terror and rage corroding my guts, feeling so useless and with the unique desire to take that spear and put it right in his fucking...

The idea arrived almost unexpected. The spear, sure. It was impossible to attack, not directly and not with Ne'veah in those conditions, not when the bastard had the defense so high. But the spear was longer than the blades. It was enough a distraction, only a little distraction...I looked the fight again, but my eyes moved over, around the forest, the trees and the rocks. I found what I was looking for, and again, for the umpteenth time since this story started, I ran.

His twisted arm burned like hell, but Ne'veah gave a little attention to it

"Ne'veah, the tree!" he heard her voice just in time to see her figure disappearing behind a large group of bashes, incapable to understand what she was doing.

His heart contracted painfully, letting him know the arrival of all the new sensations he was experimenting ultimately: quick breath, high blood pressure and pain in the stomach. In other words: love. In his entire life he never felt something like this, something that went against all his primal instincts. With Li'ya, as a mate, he had the duty to protect her, and care for her pups; but with Jessica it was all different. It was not a duty, not an instinct, but the simple as unbelievable need to not lose her. And now, in front of his enemy, despite his conditions, he felt an energy he didn't understand completely. Not only rage, not only willpower, just…love, and concern for her safety.

Ne'veah forced himself to watch the other Yautja right in the eyes, not spreading his mandibles to prevent additional damages. He couldn't show weakness in front of the enemy. Yeyinde; that was once his name, someone he believed to be a hunting companion and an honorable member of Sain'ja's clan, someone he believed dead by his hand and that now stood proud and mocking beside him.

The memories of that day flowed inside him as clear as painful: Li'ya's sharp talons on him, his spear trough her body, the blood, his knife sank in Yeyinde's stomach, a very fortunate strike, and the escape when he activated the bomb on his wrist gauntlet. Ne'veah started to think that it was a sort of plan B, pretending his death after the failing of his plans; but this didn't matter anymore. He was here now, giving him the opportunity to finally get his spinal column.

Slowly, silently, they started to circle each other. No words about the past, or about the reasons, just the burning desire to take another trophy. Ne'veah held the spear in front of his chest in defense, searching the right moment to attack. He knew he had to do the first move, the wound on his side was bleeding profusely; his opponent could simply watch while he died from blood loss. Still moving, he glanced quickly the environment around him, a blur of trees and vegetation. Where the pauk was Jessica? What was she sa…oh. Behind his enemy's back there was a large tree inclined forward, not much but enough to give him some problem to move. With the arm in that condition, even the fact that the other Yautja couldn't stand straight could make the difference between life and death.

A long, slow breath; and then, with all the strength he was capable, Ne'veah charged against him, lifting the spear above the head. As thought, Yeyinde was unimpressed, and in response prepared the blades. What he didn't expect was Ne'veah retracting the spear and throwing himself on him, grabbing his waist with the good arm, and starting to push him back roughly. It was a risky move; the Yeyinde's arms were still free and could hit him as soon as he could again get the balance, but for now it was the only choice. When he started to resist, Ne'veah let him go and extended again the spear, using it to push him against the trunk. His plans didn't go as he hoped, the wounds made him too slow. After two or three other steps back, Yeyinde extended the blades and started to counterattack, quickly and mercilessly. The blows were repeated incessantly; Ne'veah's muscles started to burn for the effort, and he almost lost the spear with the last strike. Yeyinde took his occasion, grabbing the spear with a hand and pushing back. They remained in that position of stalemate for a time that to Ne'veah seemed eternal, his face tired and exhausted against the mocking one of his enemy

"You are suffering, young hunter; you're just denying the inevitable" his grinned amused, pushing the spear downward and forcing Ne'veah almost on his knees "Why don't you simply die? It was your destiny from the beginning"

"So it was yours" Ne'veah growled, his arm less and less capable to support the stress "but I'll not be a coward like you"

"So, you admit your faith" a rumble came from his chest, his voice turning in a low growl "It will be a pleasure to put an end to your agony"

The blades hit his stomach, piercing him, tearing his flash. The roar choked in his throat, and a knee was forced on the ground. Ne'veah could barely breathe, trying to stay still despite the pain. The cold metal brushed his neck. No! It couldn't be over! Not now. Not yet.

"Die you…" a loud thud arrived at Ne'veah's ears, followed with a cry and a roar. His vision was starting already to blur, but what he could saw left him speechless.