Lila Carter stood in Talia Grey's bunker, her hands trembling as she watched the grainy monitor feed—Jake Hensley, days ago, screaming as Xytheran claws cut into his chest, his blood dripping onto a cold metal table. The image flickered, then looped, a brutal echo of his pain. Ethan Blake caught her as her knees buckled, his strong arms wrapping around her, his bloodied chest pressed against her back. "We'll get 'em," he growled, lips brushing her ear, his warmth a lifeline. Damien Voss stepped closer, his hand sliding to her hip, bold and warm. "Count on it, princess," he said, voice low, eyes dark with hunger. Kieran Holt slumped in a chair, grinning weakly despite his bleeding chest. "For you, gorgeous," he added, winking, his charm unshaken.
Jake stirred on the cot, his weak groan cutting through the tension. "Lila…" he rasped, his cold hand reaching for her, eyes flickering with pain and a shadow of betrayal. She pulled free of Ethan and Damien, kneeling beside him, guilt twisting her gut. "I'm here," she said, voice soft, brushing his damp hair back. His cuts oozed, his skin clammy, and his gaze darted to the men around her—Ethan, Damien, Kieran, their presence a silent weight.
Talia Grey tapped the monitor, her silver hair glinting under the fluorescents. "My husband's cameras caught more than I thought," she said, voice smooth and cold. "They've been busy." The feed shifted—dozens of Xytherans, ships hovering, bodies dragged into the dark. Clara Evans adjusted her glasses, her shoulder bandaged, studying the disc on the table. "This confirms it," she said, voice crisp. "Multiple bases—north, like Rhea said."
Rhea Voss leaned against the wall, smirking, her gun holstered but ready. "Told you. They're staging—grabbing anyone they can." Her cold eyes flicked to Jake, then Lila, amused. Maya Torres paced, her arm wrapped, pipe tapping her leg. "So we hit 'em," she said, glaring at the screen. "No more waiting."
Zara Quinn sat in a corner, sketching the feed—ships, claws, blood—her whispers growing frantic. "They're… planning…" she muttered, pencil scratching faster. The disc pulsed faintly, a heartbeat in the silence.
A knock rattled the steel door, sharp and urgent. They tensed, weapons raised—Ethan's fists, Damien's knife, Kieran's shotgun, Maya's pipe, Rhea's gun. Talia moved to a small screen by the door, frowning. "It's… him," she said, unlocking it.
Leo Nash stumbled in—Gorse Hollow's conspiracy nut, wiry and wild-eyed, his dirty blond hair a mess, a backpack slung over one shoulder. He clutched a stack of papers, his shirt stained with sweat and dirt. "Finally found you," he panted, staring at Lila. "Knew you'd be in deep."
"Leo?" Lila said, standing, Jake's hand slipping from hers. She'd seen him around—ranting about UFOs, always scribbling notes—but never close. "What are you doing here?"
"Been tracking this for years," he said, dumping his papers on the table—maps, photos, scrawled notes. "Xytherans—real, not crazy. They've got nests all over—north, east, even under the damn town." His eyes locked on hers, bright and intense. "You're the key, Lila. They want you."
"Me?" Her stomach dropped. Ethan stepped closer, hand on her shoulder, protective. "Why her?" he growled. Damien smirked, knife twirling. "She's special, mechanic. Didn't you notice?" Kieran grinned, leaning forward. "Obvious, huh, gorgeous?"
Leo nodded, frantic. "Heard 'em—radio signals, intercepted. They marked Jake to lure her—prime candidate, strong, fertile." Jake coughed, weak, clutching the cot. "They… said her name…" he rasped, eyes wide. "Over and over…"
Lila's knees shook, and Ethan's grip tightened, steadying her. Damien moved in, his heat brushing her side, voice low. "They won't touch you, princess." Kieran winked, playful but firm. "Not with us around, gorgeous." Their closeness—Ethan's loyalty, Damien's danger, Kieran's spark, now Leo's wild devotion—wove a tighter net around her.
Talia's lips curved, intrigued. "Fertile, hmm? Explains their focus." Rhea laughed, cold. "She's a prize, then. Cute." Maya glared. "Shut it, both of you."
Clara studied Leo's papers, frowning. "Underground nests? That's new." She tapped the disc. "This could pinpoint them." The hum flared, loud and sudden, shaking the bunker. The disc glowed bright, lines shifting—north, then below.
Zara gasped, dropping her pencil. "Under us!" she whispered, sketching a tunnel—claws, eyes, blood dripping. The floor rumbled, and a crack split the concrete, dust falling. "They're here," Clara said, voice tight, grabbing the disc.
The wall exploded inward, a Xytheran bursting through—huge, black-gray, claws like blades. It roared, lunging at Lila. Ethan tackled it, fists slamming its chest, but it slashed his side, blood gushing. He grunted, pinning it, while Damien leapt, knife sinking into its back. It shrieked, clawing Damien's arm, gray blood spraying.
Kieran fired, blasting its leg, and Maya swung her pipe, cracking its skull. Rhea shot its head, precise and cold, and it collapsed, shaking the room. But more came—three, then five—pouring from the crack, claws gleaming. One grabbed Zara, pinning her, tearing her shirt. She screamed, kicking, as its claws dug into her stomach, testing her.
Lila swung her bat, cracking its jaw, and Leo tackled it, wild and reckless, driving a jagged shard from his pack into its throat. It fell, blood pooling, and he pulled Zara free, panting. "Got you," he said, his hand lingering on her arm, eyes fierce.
Another lunged at Talia, claws slashing her coat. She fired, bullets ripping its chest, but it slammed her into the wall, her head cracking concrete. Blood trickled, and she slumped, dazed. Clara swung the disc like a club, hitting its head, and Maya finished it with her pipe.
The last pinned Jake to the cot, claws raking his chest—fresh wounds over old. He screamed, weak, as it hissed, dragging him toward the crack. Lila charged, bat smashing its spine, and Ethan ripped it off, snapping its neck. Jake slumped, blood oozing, gasping her name.
Silence fell, broken by groans and heavy breathing. Ethan pulled Lila close, blood dripping, his arms tight. "You're okay," he panted, lips brushing her forehead. Damien staggered over, smirking despite his wounds. "Told you, princess," he said, hand on her waist, bold and warm. Kieran grinned, clutching his chest. "Still kicking, gorgeous." Leo hovered near, wild eyes on her. "They want you bad," he said, voice low, reverent.
Jake coughed, weak, clutching her hand as she knelt by him. "Lila… don't let 'em…" His blood smeared her fingers, his eyes flickering—fear, pain, jealousy. She squeezed back, torn—his need crashing against the harem's pull.
Talia staggered up, blood on her temple, smoothing her coat. "Persistent bastards," she muttered, eyeing the crack. Clara retrieved the disc, glow dimming. "They're under us—tunnels. Leo's right." She glanced at his maps. "We've got coordinates now."
Rhea kicked a corpse, smirking. "Let's hunt." Maya nodded, wiping blood from her face. "No more running." Zara whispered, "They're… deeper…" Her sketch showed a cavern—ships, bodies, claws.
Leo grabbed his papers, frantic. "I've got gear—radios, traps. We can hit 'em." His eyes locked on Lila, fierce and adoring. "For you." Ethan glared, hand tightening on her shoulder. Damien's smirk darkened, possessive. Kieran winked, leaning closer. "Team's growing, huh, gorgeous?"
The hum pulsed, faint but rising, green lights flickering through the crack. Talia smirked, cold. "My lab's compromised. We move north—my estate. Fortified." Rhea nodded. "Closer to their staging ground."
Lila helped Jake stand, his weight dragging her. Ethan supported his other side, blood mixing with Jake's, his eyes on her—steady, fierce. Damien flanked her, limping, his hand brushing her hip. Kieran walked ahead, shotgun ready, tossing a grin. Leo hovered near, papers clutched, his wild energy binding him to her.
The bunker stank of blood and dust, the crack a gaping wound. The harem tightened—Jake's fragile claim, Ethan's fierce care, Damien's dark hunger, Kieran's bold spark, Leo's wild devotion, Talia's cold web, Rhea's sharp edge. The Xytherans' claws reached deeper, their hunger unrelenting.
A new scream echoed—close, male, cut off fast. The war bled on, and Lila's grip on her bat tightened.