Halkrath raised his head in the darkness. His skull felt full of hot, poisonous fog and it was a while before he could distinguish any noise at all over the ringing in his ears. Eventually the whine subsided. Around him there was only the creak and plink of cooling metal and a hissing noise, like steam. He wondered how long he had been unconscious.

The sound of wristblades being unsheathed made him turn. In the dim light, S'Kia straightened up and cut himself free of his turbulence harness. Halkrath watched him rise shakily to his feet and kneel before the ooman Sain'Ja, who was curled up in the pilot's seat. Quickly, he sheathed the dah'kte and lifted her chin with his fingers, stroking his talons down her arms and against the surface of her mask. She coughed, stirred, then uncurled. The Abomination clasped her face between his hands and she said something Halkrath did not understand, but he guessed it must have been about their sons because S'Kia turned immediately to the two boys. Isaac was already moving sluggishly, struggling with the turbulence harness as if in the grip of a nightmare. Selim lay very still. Halkrath watched dazedly as the renegade cut Isaac free, speaking to him in the ooman tongue. The boy stopped struggling and sat up, looking around in a way that made him appear just as muzzy as Halkrath felt.

Then S'Kia turned to Selim, who lay with his head thrown back against the back of the seat, "Mei'Sika?"

He put his fingers to the hollow of his son's throat to feel for a pulse but at the moment he touched him, he jerked his hand back sharply as if he had been stung. It was odd and the urgency of the gesture raised a little pang of dread in Halkrath too, 'What if the boy is dead?' He thought.

S'Kia's sudden movement had got his other son's attention, as well as his own. Isaac sat up straighter, blurting out a stream of what sounded like questions in the ooman language. S'Kia gave only quiet, brief answers and Halkrath felt an odd coldness weighing in his stomach, 'What if he is dead? One of only two yautja-ooman hybrids in existence…"

The ooman Sain'Ja had now freed herself form her own harness and came to kneel in front of Selim taking hold of his hands; touching his mask; speaking to him in her soft, ooman voice. He could not hear the breathing of the Abomination and the ooman female. They stood as if petrified, both of them hovering over the boy. Isaac was paralysed too, his attention riveted on his twin. Then, Selim shifted and moaned, rolling his head from side to side. Then he lifted his face and Halkrath's stomach unknotted to see him move.

"Mei'Varsi…?" The boy said.

"Selim, speak to me!" His mother gasped, "Are you alright?"

Selim lifted a hand to his head, then raised himself up on shaking arms, "I think so," He rasped "What happened?"

Halkrath squinted, trying to see the boy clearly, 'He is alive…but then, why did S'Kia flinch away?'

At that moment, the Abomination turned, almost as if he had heard his name. His attention was always slightly unnerving, but Halkrath realised S'Kia's eye had probably been drawn by his movement as he craned to see what had happened to Selim,"Halkrath?" S'Kia said, "You are alive also?"

Halkrath nodded slowly but, as he drew in a breath to answer, the fog of memory cleared a little and he recalled the conversation in the engine room, 'Why would he care so much about how the antivirus works if he is planning to use it as a bargaining tool?'

Halkrath's eyes narrowed. Now his vision had cleared, he saw the beads of sweat pouring down S'Kia's ash-grey flesh and his gaze was dragged to a flash of white, a handprint on the Abomination's huge arm. Where the soot had been wiped away, the skin showed through burning pale; like S'Kia had been marked by a demon. Halkrath stared; he knew where he had seen a fever and a pallor like this before; "S'Kia is infected… he has the contagion!"

For a few moments he was too stunned to say anything – even to answer the question S'Kia had asked him but S'Kia was not watching him anyway, turning back towards the two boys.

"He knows!" Halkrath realised in a flash of clarity "S'Kia knows he has the virus and he has been trying to keep it from me."

His eyes darted to the hybrids and their mother, "Do they all know?" His efficient, smooth-clicking brain working hard, considering options "Perhaps S'Kia has not told them. I could tell him that I know but, then I would risk his wrath."

Halkrath pushed the release on his turbulence harness and rose slowly to his feet, rubbing absently at the places where the straps had cut into his shoulders. There was a groan and a noise from behind them and S'Kia turned, heaving pieces of debris aside, crossing to where Sek'Met was still strapped into her seat. He said her name and after a moment she stirred and straightened up, "U'darahje " She said, "It is a surprise for you to be the first thing I see."

There was laughter underneath her words, but S'Kia growled, "You had better get up, or I will also be the last thing you see."

She gave a little purr and reached down to unstrap herself. S'Kia stood watching her but did not – Halkrath noticed – ever touch her.

"Just as I suspected, S'Kia has the sickness." The scientist told himself, "Maybe he will soon be incapacitated but he cannot suspect what I know, I would not cross him, even now…"

Shihir came to a halt at the bottom of the valley and signalled the others to stop. He preferred the nights on this world. In the daytime, Ua'Amea looked filthy; defiled; everything choked with ash. At night, the torrents of flame from the volcanic activity beneath the planet's surface poured up into the blackness, filling the darkness with power. One did not have to try hard to summon spirits in such a place; this world breathed fire.

Ahead of him strode Sur'Amon and Karnak, the only other D'AKv'var to survive the Abomination's assault in the Circle of Pain. Sensing Shihir's lack of movement, they stopped and turned towards him, "What now, Spirit Summoner?" Sur'Amon asked.

"The hunt is not finished." Shihir told him, "I came here for the skull of U'darahje and the ooman witch, and I will not leave without them."

"Then why are we heading away from the Circle?"

"Because we know where they have landed their ship," Shihir stretched out a talon towards the bottom of the valley, "Now that they have their blasphemous progeny, they will be heading back there and they will not be expecting us. We can take them by surprise, just as they took us."

Karnak gave an angry chitter, "When U'darahje and his slut have already slaughtered the bulk of our forces? We must retreat!"

"You want to flee, coward?" Shihir said quietly.

Sur'Amon stayed silent. Karnak snarled, but he did not move to attack in response to the insult. No D'AKv'var ever wanted to cross the Spirit Summoner. Nobody knew all the things he could do.

"There is no killing what cannot be killed." Shihir rolled one of his long plaits between his talons, "And U'darahje may have destroyed our warriors' physical bodies, but their spirits are stronger than his soft meat witch or her filthy hexes."

"But we lost our sacrifices." Sur'Amon cocked his head, "How can we summon spirits without the flesh of our enemies? Without the ritual?"

Shihir reached into a leather pouch at his waist and drew out a lump wrapped in rags, unrolling the bundle to reveal a hand severed at mid forearm, with a set of dah'kte still attached. Sur'Amon grunted, "What is that?"

"I wanted some of the witch's black hair, but instead I got this." Shihir ran the tip of his talons along the blade, which glowed with emerald blood. Where he touched it, his fingers came away iridescent green.

"This belonged to Araktis but I saw him wound the Abomination; this is U'darahje's blood."

Karnak drew back a little but Sur'Amon leaned forward, his voice low, purring with sadistic pleasure, "What are you going to do to him?"

The Spirit Summoner did not answer him, "Light a fire."

Wordlessly, Karnak picked up a few soot-covered branches and tossed them into a pile between them. He used his targeting beam to focus on them until they burst into flame, the sulphurous ash making them burn blue and green.

Shihir drew out a long strip of something. It looked like leather, but speckled with spots of darker pigment. Holding it between his fingers, he drew it along the edge of the first of the three blades, until it was soaked in blood. Slicing off a piece of the grisly strip, he dropped it into the fire, where it blackened and withered, "Wherever he is, U'darahje will suffer."

He cut another piece and held it over the rising smoke, "His lungs will shrivel. His strength will fail."

He cast it into the blaze and then held the final piece, squeezing it between his fingers. A drop of blood fell into the blaze, flashing at once into steam. Then he let it fall. The other two yautja watched in breathless silence as it hissed, curling up like a dying snake

"His blood will boil," Shihir purred, "Wherever he is on our world, make U'darahje burn."

Scar wiped the sweat from his slippery palms and gripped the leverbar, inserted it between the malfunctioning doors of the D'AKv'var ship and pulled. When a small gap appeared, he forced his taloned fingers into it and hauled. The doors refused to budge. He had to stop for a moment, wiping his sweat slicked hands on his thighs again, waiting for the thumping in his brain to die down. Then he breathed deeply; once, twice and tried again, shoulders straining, fresh perspiration bursting out all over him. The doors trembled, then at long last they shuddered apart with a tormented groan. Scar stood panting for a moment, holding onto the doors, sweat running into his screwed-up eyes, 'I could do this easily if not for this foul infection. I am becoming weak!'

Where there should have been rage there was heat and sickness; a slew of dizziness; a purple storm cloud billowing up inside his head. He was too tired, too drained, "I do not have… time for this. When we get to the Chameleon. When we get off this planet, then there will be time, but not now!"

Footsteps behind him. He shook his head vigorously and straightened up.

"Scar, are you ok?"

It was Lex looking up at him, slotting a spear into her back holster, "You don'tlook so good," She said, her visor sliding in and out of focus.

"I am… fine."

She reached out. He tried to avoid her touch, stepping rapidly backwards, but she wouldn't let him. She came on until his back came up against the wall of the chamber. When she was close enough, she took hold of his wrist, standing on tiptoe to put her fingers to the base of his throat. He knew she must be able to feel the rapid thudding of his pulse, the sweat bathing him and his temperature raging.

"You're burning up." She said quietly, "We need to get you out of here."

"Of course we have to get onto the Chameleon and go."

Lex nodded.

"And take the antivirus," He growled as another spasm of fever washed over him, "We must take it with us also."

"We can take enough to treat you – "

"No, we must take it all."

"There's no time!"

She glanced behind her. Neither wanted the other yautja to overhear them, and Selim or Isaac might come out of the cockpit at any moment. Scar followed her gaze and then jerked his head towards the now open door. She nodded, silently drawing the plasma gun. Sticking his head outside, he scanned the forest for any sign of movement while she covered him. The jungle was returning to normal as the disturbance from their crash landing subsided. Dripping, grey foliage surrounded them, except behind the ship, where there was a long, ragged trench of torn up earth and broken trees. He couldn't hear anything but the chatter and click of animal life in the jungle around them. Silence would have worried him, but if the beasts and insects were still calling they were probably safe for now, "After that pyrotechnical display, any D'AKv'var left alive in this area will know where we are – but perhaps they are all dead … or have not managed to get here yet."

He raised his hand to signal an all clear and together they slipped out through the damaged doors. After a brief scout of the clearing around them, they turned back towards each other.

"Scar, let's just make sure you're ok and get the fuck out of here; that's the most important thing!"

"Of course it is… not the most… important thing!"

He had switched to English, stumbling over the ooman words, his voice no more than a hiss, "Do you not realise … even if we escape … our offspring will be hunted wherever they… go?"

"We can carry some of the containers, but we don't have time to move it all!" She hissed back, neither of them wanting to risk raised voices.

"Then we must make time… because we need it to … bargain … with the Rough Skulls or they… will be hunted… forever!"

"Just look at yourself! You're shivering and your fever is out of control – "

"It is ... nothing!"

"How are we going to carry it back to the Chameleon?"

"It is not far and I… am strong enough. It is not… that far to the Chameleon or the Fury from here… less than a unit."

"Scar, I can't let anything to happen to you." Fear boiled under the surface of her voice, "Not to any of you."

"Then we cannot… throw away this… chance. You… know I am… right."

She looked away, silent for a moment. Then she gave a quick, angry nod, "OK fine, but you know as well as I do that without stealth tech any D'AKv'var we didn't kill will have seen us go down. They know where this ship is and they know the location of the Chameleon too. They'll be on their way here to settle up with us. We can't stay here."

"Of courssse."

"Then we need to get everyone moving, right now."

She strode back to the hatch and stepped inside, leaving Scar leaning against the ship. It was still warm from the crash landing but for a moment he could not move, as if trying to absorb the energy from the heated metal, even though it made fresh waves of vertigo break on him.

"I can help carry Rika and Varrik to the Chameleon."

Scar straightened up as Lex reappeared with Selim at her heels. Halkrath and Isaac followed, with Sek'Met behind them.

"I want to help," Their eldest son insisted, "I am strong enough, Mei'Varsi!"

"No Selim," She said, "We need you to stay with Halkrath and modify the engines of the Fury."

Scar nodded. He knew she would be thinking the same as him: that the D'AKv'var knew the location of the Chameleon, they had attacked Halkrath there. He and Lex had destroyed Tmo'gui and his cronies, but perhaps they had sent scouts to report back on their location. There was a better chance that they didn't know about the Fury and they needed the ship operational in any case; the Chameleon did not have enough space for all of them, and certainly there would be a problem with bringing Jah'Di'Tou onboard. The female needed to convalesce, and the Chameleon only had one medipod – which they would need for Varrik.

'And perhaps for me." He thought, a cold shiver oozing down his spine despite the heat.

He couldn't see Lex's expression but he could tell she was watching him, "Sek'Met and I can take the wounded to the Chameleon." She said, without looking away from him.

The female tossed her head, "You are not strong enough to carry either one of them."

"Then we have to make two trips," Lex said, "You can carry and I can watch your back."

"No." Scar shook his head "I will carry one of them. Then Lex and I can go back for the antivirus."

"Scar, is that really a good idea?"

Lex was speaking to him in English, obviously not wanting to call attention to his sickness in front of the other yautja.

"You need to stay with the boys – to guard them." She said.

"Mei'Varsi!" Selim said, but she waved him into silence.

"The Fury is an easy distance from here and it lies between us and the Chameleon," Scar said, "We can all carry what we must as far as the Fury. Then, Halkrath and the boys stay and modify the engines while Lex, Sek'Met and I carry Rika and Varrik to the Chameleon and move the rest of the antivirus."

"That sounds like a workable plan." The scientist nodded.

"I will unstrap the wounded," Sek'Met spat and stalked back into the ship.

"And I will salvage what weapons and equipment we may." Halkrath turned to go. Selim cast a worried glance at the two of them but then hurried after the scientist, Isaac trailing behind.

Lex still stared at him, saying nothing, but he could sense her worry hanging in the air like the ghost of smoke. He stepped towards her and put a hand to her masked face, his fingers sliding over the metal and into her hair. Wordlessly, she turned her face towards his hand, leaning into his touch, clutching his wrist as if she couldn't bear for him to let go. He swayed towards her, the desire to hold onto her until the sickness and the dizziness passed, almost overwhelming. She stepped up close to him and put a hand on his chest and he looked down at it as if he'd never seen it before.

"You feel so hot." She said.

"I am …fine."

She put her hands either side of his mask, pulling his face down to look at her, "You stay with me – do you understand, Scar?" She gave him a little shake, "You don't get to check out early."

Her arms went round his neck and he wound his arms around her waist, wanting to steady himself, leaning down to bury his face in her hair. They stood, holding onto each other as tight as when they had been drowning.

"The further down this valley we go, the thicker this filthy stuff gets."

Xal'Uate halted and swiped at the dirty flakes that were falling all around them. The rest of the female Rough Skulls halted with her, even the GhaRan-S'i-Ka. Standing close against Xala's flank, Spyrro held out a hand to catch one. It settled on her palm like a star of black ice and she stared at it for a moment before brushing it away. The forest all around the was filled with the noise of ash pattering down softly onto the leaves.

The clan leader turned to Ar'Gjin, "Where is this ash coming from?"

"I saw a plain with volcanic activity present as we descended, GhaRan-S'i-Ka," The navigator said, "Perhaps this is ash, spewed up into the air."

The GhaRan-S'i-Ka nodded, "R'ka T'jok {Trans. the place of fire, ie. a volcano} – there are many such places on this world, I believe."

"Yes, my commander. I guess this ash is from those plains. It is interfering with our weapons and communications systems."

"What does that matter? All those I would contact are here – or for those that are not…" The GhaRan-S'i-Ka raised her dah'kte, "This is all I would say to them."

Against Spyrro's shoulder, Xala's muscles tensed, "GhaRan-S'i-Ka," She rumbled, "Might not the heavier fall of debris be a sign of increased volcanic activity?"

"Perhaps. And so?"

"Is there not a chance this area may become… unstable?"

"What are you trying to say?"

"Should the Abomination be our priority?" Xala spoke slowly, as if she were edging around a crevasse, "What about our ship? It needs repair."

The GhaRan-S'i-Ka went very still.

"If the volcano erupts, this whole area could be compromised." Xala went on, "There will be clouds of corrosive gas; pyroclastic flow; we must be ready to evacuate or we will perish."

Spyrro stared up at the two of them, twin obelisks swathed in clouds of ash and darkness. Her chest tightened a little, the breath forced through a mesh of fear. She stayed frozen, waiting, "She is considering calling off the hunt for Mei'Savir. O, please say that she will!"

Then, the Matriarchshook her long, frost-stained locks, "You are right, D'tai N'as, as you ever are." She croaked, "I will send some of our number to make repairs to our craft. Ish'Tar. Varga."

Two Rough Skulls stepped forward, "Yes, GhaRan-S'i-Ka."

"Go." The clan leader croaked, "Secure the ship."

As the younger females leapt to obey, fading into the jungle, Xala stepped up to the GhaRan-S'i-Ka, and spoke in a voice so low only Spyrro could hear, "My commander, we must make for the ship."

"He is close, Xal'Uate. I feel him with all my senses – "

The combat master stretched out a hand and laid it lightly on the clan leader's upper arm. It was the first time Spyrro had seen any Rough Skull touch the elder female and the GhaRan-S'i-Ka paused, her gaze turning down towards the black hand resting on her skin.

"Spyrro, this is madness." Xal'Uate rumbled.

It took a moment for Spyrro to realise that the combat master was addressing the clan leader rather than herself – she had forgotten that they shared a name. The GhaRan-S'i-Ka snarled, "What did you say to me?"

Spyrro had to repress a shudder at the venom in her voice, but Xal'Uate did not flinch or move her hand away, "You are my leader," She said, slowly, "But I will speak the truth to you and you will hear it; hunting down S'Kia is not worth what you stand to lose."

Both females turned to look down at Spyrro. She forced herself not to cower.

"You have the daughter." Xala said, her voice low and urgent, "Keep her, and let your son go."

The GhaRan-S'i-Ka's mask swivelled tolook at the combat master, "If any other had spoken to me as you have just done, I would kill her with my own hands."

"I know it." Still, Xala stood her ground, "You must judge my loyalty."

There was silence, seconds slipped by. Finally, the clan leader spoke, "Do not overreach yourself, Xal'Uate." She rasped, "Do not presume on our long allegiance means. You must obey me, like all the others. I am GhaRan-S'i-Ka and I will rule."

Only when she stalked past them did Spyrro allow herself to breathe again.

Smoke was drifting in the air and ash falling like black rain in the clearing by the time Lex, Scar and Sek'Met reached the Chameleon. On the first trip, they had circled the clearing, staying out of sight, scouting for enemies, but the area was clear. They had already deposited Rika in one of the sleeping pods and hooked Varrik up to the medipod, then gone back for the boxes of antivirus. They had found a carrying frame that the D'AKv'var must have used to load up their own ship. Borne between Scar and Sek'Met, it had allowed them to carry almost two thirds of the antivirus at a stroke.

She watched Scar closely; she had known him long enough to be able to tell when he was covering up pain and she could see it in him now. His movements were as stealthy as ever but they did not have his usual fluidity. The way he held himself; determinedly upright, his skin glistening with welters of fresh perspiration like tiny diamonds. Though the trek to the ship had not been a great distance, it seemed to Lex an eternity of worry. In her anxious mind, the containers of antivirus must be getting heavier by the second, "I only hope I can get him to take some soon. He says that they might make him pass out, but if we can just get to a place a of safety…"

Now, staggering past Lex, over the threshold of the Chameleon, he made for the ladder that led to the cargo hold. At the ladder, he said, "I am putting it down."

Then he lowered the frame hastily down before they could slip from his sweat slathered grip, forcing Sek'Met to lower it too. The yautja female flicked her braids, "Too heavy for you, U'darahje?"

Scar ignored the jibe, Lex wondered if he'd even heard it.

"You two can stow this." He said, "I am going back for the rest of the shipment."

He turned and stalked to the hatch. Sek'Met snorted but hefted an armful of antivirus but Lex followed him, "I have to convince him to rest, he's got to take the antivirus. I know he wants to wait until Sek'Met is safely aboard the Fury… and we are off this planet."

He was almost at the airlock when Lex managed to catch up and hauled herself in front of him, "Scar, you have to rest!" She hissed, "You're not well enough for this."

He swayed on his feet for a moment, "What?"

"You're not going anywhere." She said, "You're not well enough."

"I am fine." He said, looking over his shoulder to where the female Rough Skull was climbing the ladder down to the hold. Lex put a hand on his arm, "We have over half the whole shipment here." She said, "I'll get the boys and we can go."

Scar shook his head, tossing his braids as if he were trying to clear it, "There are… only a small number of virus… ampoules left. The twins can help me... carry it."

Lex frowned under her mask, "Why are you being so stubborn?"

"Lex… stay here and guard Varrik and Rika… I do not wish to… be around her," He tilted his head towards the female youngblood, "Not in my current state…"

Lex turned to follow his gaze to where Sek'Met had just disappeared down the ladder and into the hold. When she turned back to Scar, he had already gone past her, out into the jungle.

"Scar, wait – " She hissed, lunging after him.

He half turned, drawing well back from her, breathing deeply, the sweat glistening on his skin like raindrops, "Stay." He growled, "Watch Sek'Met."

With that, he turned and was gone.

The jungle was a shimmering mirage before Scar's eyes as he made the trek back to the ship. He squinted, trying to stay focused. Every moment he stayed on his feet caused a fresh welter of cold perspiration to break over him. It was not a great distance, but he was wading through tar; limbs feeling heavier by the second; chest full of spines; constricted by bands of metal.

He had intended to make for the Fury – for Isaac and Selim – but now he realised he was headed back to the D'AKv'var ship. The antivirus was there and, in his foggy state, he suddenly wanted it – wanted anything that could make his lungs fill properly. The sight of the enemy shuttle was such a blessed relief, that he almost swayed on his feet, the ship blurring, 'Master yourself!' He raged inside his head, 'Stop being so pathetic!'

Blindly, he raised his arm and pressed the control on his wristcom to open the door.

The movement caused ripples in the hot darkness behind his eyes. He was past caring who saw him now, past even being aware of who was watching. If enemies were closing in, he no longer knew nor cared. He stepped through the airlock and pressed the control to seal it behind him. Then he was on his knees; palms pressed to the metal floor; head hanging down, blood-heavy. Gasping for breath, he crawled towards the ladder well that led to the hold, pulse thundering in his ears. His wet palms slipped against the deck. He wasn't aware of falling but he must have fallen. When he opened his eyes again, he was looking up. The ladder climbed into the ceiling above him, warping and stretching like a string of mucus. The side of his face felt strange and cold. He put a hand up to touch it and realised the mask had come away; knocked off – or maybe he had wrenched it off? He could not remember.

Scar turned his head. In the dark of the hold, antivirus capsules shimmered their bright, white ache. He dragged himself towards the glow; struggling to stay conscious. He made a grab for one shining tube and it slipped from his sweat slathered fingers. He reached out again, shutting his eyes as the waves of dizziness rolled in, threatening to sweep him away. His shaking fingers closed around the tube and he hauled himself into sitting position, strange shapes tessellating before his eyes. He held up the glowing tube, using one talon to flick off the cap and reveal the wicked dart-needle underneath, ready to discharge its payload. Like an automaton, he stretched out his arm. The pathways of veins showed dark under the bone white skin, blood pumping hard. He brought the needle down. There was no sting, no sensation. Just a coldness in his arm and then a dark veil. He lay still, fighting to breathe.

Scar did not know how long he lay there before he heard the low rumbling growl. It filled the enclosed space. He forced his leaden lids apart. The vault of the hold was dark – so dark he could see nothing. Two globes of pale, green fire kindled before him. He blinked, hoping they would disappear, but he knew what they were. The Oriande uncurled itself into the hold in front of him, a torrent of sinuous blackness. Its mouth yawned wide, teeth glinting in the half light. Scar lay, too weak to move, as it approached. As if in a dream, he saw the bloody gash on its flank where the Avissa had tried to drain it. Slowly, the huge paws padded towards him, iron claws screeching where they grazed dull metal. It came closer. Closer and closer. Until its purring filled his head like a thunderstorm, huge jaws looming close to his face, breath hot and wet against his skin.

"S'Kia." It purred, "I have been waiting for you."

I am sorry this has been so late but by all the gods, this last few weeks has been a rollercoaster ride. I literally only finished this chapter tonight so I hope people will forgive me - sometimes life just takes over!

LovyDovy7: Thanks for the kind words. Yes Isaac does have a kind of self hatred because of his upbringing but it's hard to say if he'd have got on with Scar if he'd been brought up by him from the beginning. They are very similar personalities - and families are weird! I always appreciate your whole hearted support and love - hope this longer chapter makes up for the hiatus.

Tenjp: You may have to wait for the reconciliation, I don't know what to tell you!

Miko Uchi Queen - I saw your insta, thanks so much for sharing. Definitely draw Scar next ;)

Conart20 - Glad you love it and hope you continue to love it. Thank you!

Aslen: Muchas gracias por tan grande voto de confianza. ¡Me hace tan feliz que la gente disfrute lo suficiente de mis escritos como para pedir más! Me encanta recibir críticas (¡especialmente cuando me dicen lo que la gente piensa que DEBERÍA haber sucedido!). ¡Espero que esto tenga sentido ya que usé el traductor de Google!

Aquastar: Thank you so much for your kind review. It makes my day when people say they have enjoyed my writing. Honestly. The scene with Scar telling Lex he loves her was one of the hardest I've had to write as I wanted it to be true to the characters and not sappy or cliched (Scar would never be sentimental) so it's a massive boost to hear you loved it.

Thanks again to everyone who gave me a follow, favourite or review and please continue to do these things!