Chapter 490: A cursed pet.

Arion stared at his reflection in Hendrik’s tablet long enough for the beastly yellow of his eyes to become impossible to dismiss as lighting.

That was wrong.

If the corruption had returned, his eyes should have darkened.

That was what they had done when he was eight, when fever and corrupted pheromones had pushed his body toward collapse before the physicians in Saha forced his dominant manifestation years too early. Even over the last several months, the subtle changes Dean noticed had gone in that direction—gold deepening toward brown, never brightening into anything like this.

Wild beasts had eyes like this.

Not him.

Arion looked away from the screen and toward Dax.

"You said the corruption smelled like what was there when I was a child."

"It does."

"Then why do I look like one of them?"

Dax had no immediate answer.

The nearest beast remained stretched beneath the trees, head resting against one forelimb while Arion’s pheromones drifted through the corrupted air around it. Nothing in its posture suggested distress, aggression, or even particular interest.

Nero came closer without taking his eyes off Arion.

"Your scent still feels normal to me."

"That is becoming less reassuring."

"It was meant to be reassuring."

Hendrik checked the live readings again, his expression tightening as numbers continued to scroll across the tablet.

Victor’s voice cut through their earpieces.

"Everyone retreats now."

Arion looked toward the observation structure hidden beyond the trees.

"I feel fine."

"That is precisely why I want you out of the exposure zone before we decide fine means anything useful."

Victor sounded as calm as ever, which somehow made the order harder to ignore.

"Arion, suppress nothing while you move. I want to know whether the response follows you past the corrupted perimeter."

Otto shifted closer to his son.

"Any dizziness?"

"No."

"Pressure?"

"No."

"Nausea, pain, gland irritation?"

"Nothing."

Arion flexed his fingers.

His body felt exactly as it had ten minutes earlier.

His breathing was normal. Heartbeat steady. No headache, no pressure beneath his skin, no disorientation.

There was only that strange familiarity that felt like entering a room he had forgotten from childhood and recognizing it before remembering why.

Arion hated that sensation more than actual pain would have bothered him.

They started back toward the inner barrier.

Hendrik moved first, monitoring both Arion and the beasts while Otto stayed close enough to intervene if something changed. Dax walked behind them, and Nero reluctantly abandoned his position beside the nearest animal.

The beast did not move.

For the first several meters, nothing happened.

Arion’s eyes remained yellow.

His pheromones continued flowing without effort, carrying vetiver through corrupted output that should have felt hostile and somehow did not.

Then he crossed the marked perimeter.

Behind them came the sound of branches snapping.

Hendrik turned immediately.

The beast that had been lying closest to Nero was standing.

So was another farther uphill.

A third lifted its head.

Nero’s posture changed instantly, the boredom disappearing.

"Finally."

His pheromones sharpened.

Arion looked over his shoulder.

"Nero."

"What?"

"You sound happy."

"They are awake."

"That is not generally considered good."

"It is if they attack from a manageable distance."

Hendrik stared at him.

"You have been waiting to kill one."

"I came prepared."

Dax gave Nero a look that said this was not the moment to defend himself.

The first beast took a step toward them.

Then another.

Nero shifted his weight, prepared now, one hand moving beneath the edge of his coat, where Arion knew he kept a knife despite every diplomatic request to stop carrying weapons into official settings.

The beast ignored him.

It walked directly toward Arion.

Another followed.

Hendrik’s hand lifted.

"Do not engage unless they charge."

Nero looked personally offended by the restriction.

The first beast crossed the perimeter where Arion had just been standing.

Its gait was slow, almost heavy after months of dormancy, but there was nothing unstable about it. No snapping jaws. No aggression. No scent spike suggesting attack.

It simply came closer.

Arion stood still.

"Victor?"

"Hold position."

"That seems like a poor idea."

"I need to see the behavior."

The animal stopped less than a meter away.

Its shoulder nearly reached Arion’s chest.

Nero had gone completely silent now.

The beast looked at Arion.

Arion looked back.

Then, with all the solemnity of something that had apparently forgotten it was supposed to be horrifying, the creature sat.

Hendrik lowered the tablet slightly.

Nobody spoke.

The beast leaned forward.

Arion’s muscles tensed despite himself.

Its enormous head settled against his knee. Like Boreas demanding attention.

Nero’s face went blank.

Dax slowly looked at him.

Nero stared at the animal.

"I was promised infected beasts."

"You were promised nothing," Dax said.

"It is behaving like a dog."

The beast pressed harder against Arion’s leg.

Another one approached from behind, circled once, then sat near his other side.

Arion looked down at them.

The first beast made a low sound deep in its chest.

Not a growl. Something closer to a rumble of complaint as though Arion had taken too long to come back.

Nero looked genuinely bewildered.

"I cannot kill that."

Hendrik glanced at him.

"You sound disappointed."

"I am relieved and disappointed simultaneously."

"That is a personal problem."

Arion barely heard them.

Something beneath his skin had begun to burn.

He looked down.

A dark mark had appeared above his wrist.

For one second he thought it was a shadow.

Then it moved.

Thin black lines spread beneath his skin, climbing his forearm in branching paths that followed the channels between his pheromone glands. They threaded upward beneath his sleeve, too precise to resemble veins and too dark to be anything natural.

Otto caught his arm.

"Arion."

Everyone’s attention shifted.

Arion pushed his sleeve higher.

The lines continued.

Across the inside of his elbow.

Higher toward his shoulder.

Dax’s expression changed immediately.

Victor’s voice sharpened through the earpiece.

"Do not move."

The burning sensation spread across Arion’s chest.

He pulled open the top buttons of his shirt.

Black pathways had begun appearing beneath his collarbone, branching outward in thin geometric channels that followed the gland network beneath his skin like a map drawn from the inside.

Nero stepped closer.

His earlier disappointment disappeared completely.

"Those were not there before."

"No."

Arion looked down at the beast still resting its head against his knee.

The corrupted animal appeared perfectly calm.

Almost content.

Around them, more dormant beasts were beginning to lift their heads beneath the trees toward Arion.

His eyes burned bright yellow in the dark reflection of Hendrik’s screen while the black channels continued spreading beneath his skin.

For the first time since Snake Island, Arion no longer wondered whether something had changed.

Something had.

The question was what it had turned him into.