All Chapters of Claimed by the Fallen Five: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

The collar dug deep against her throat, heavier than it should’ve been for someone her size. Metal, not cheap scrap but reinforced with rune etching that hummed like static against her skin. A low-voltage shock, a reminder: You are property. You are prey. Mae didn’t stumble when the guard shoved her forward. Not this time. Her bare feet slapped against the cold, damp floor as they dragged her down a hallway lit with flickering neon strips and hologram screens highlighting the next line of "merchandise." Bodies. Half-living, half-machine. Twisted muscle, grafted limbs. Broken things in cages, slumped, snarling, twitching.And her. The only one without metal fused to her bones. No warped genetics visible. No extra arms. No exposed plating. Just small. Human. Mostly. Except the collar. Except the brand burned into her wrist: “Trash-Class. Contaminated Asset.” "Unauthorized Bio-Mage DNA: Property of Council Division 7. Dangerous. Approach with caution." It glowed on the hologram-display ab

Riven's grip was steel wrapped in fire. No matter how Mae kicked, twisted, or clawed at him, he didn’t so much as stumble. His plasma wings curved protectively over her, deflecting the storm of bullets and debris raining down. “Put me down!” she yelled, shoving her fists against his chest. “No.” His voice was steady, calm, like the word itself was an unbreakable law of the universe. But even his perfect calm faltered for a split second, right as something sharp, fast, and deadly sliced through the air. A dagger. Not just thrown, hurled with perfect precision. A glint of steel, aimed straight for Mae. Time seemed to fracture. Her breath caught, her heart stopped. Too fast. I can’t move. It’s going to hit. Before Mae could blink or say anything, CLANG. Ashar’s clawed hand caught the blade midair. No wasted movement. No effort. Just a sharp pivot of his wrist, catching the dagger between two fingers like it was nothing. The impact sparked against his claws, metal shrieking, fracturing.

The tension was suffocating. The stolen ship rattled under the strain of its engines, cutting through dead skies, but inside, inside it was worse than any battlefield. Mae sat, still cuffed, back against the cold wall, watching them argue over her like wolves circling fresh meat. Her heart thudded hard enough to bruise. Her wrists burned from the cuffs. Her skin itched, hot, electric, like the air itself didn’t know whether to suffocate her or ignite.“Breathe,” she told herself. “Just... breathe.” “This is insane,” Kaine snapped, pacing again. His cybernetic joints hissed with every sharp turn. “We should’ve left her in the rubble. She’s dead weight. Worse, she’s a heat beacon. Every bounty hunter in the sky is sniffing us out because of her.” Sethis spun lazily in his seat, grinning. “And yet, here we are.” Riven’s plasma wings flared in agitation. “Enough. You’ve said this.” “I’ll keep saying it!” Kaine roared, his red eyes flashing. His gaze snapped back to Mae. “She’s weak. Loo

Warm. That was the first thing Mae noticed. Not the dull ache in her arms from the cuffs. Not the subtle hum of the ship's engines beneath her feet. Not even the ever-present tension that followed her like a shadow. Just warm. Her cheek pressed against something solid, smooth, not cold like the ship walls or metal plating, but something alive. A slow breath. Not hers. Steady. Controlled. A chest rising and falling beneath her ear. Her eyes snapped open. Ashar. Her head was, on his shoulder. She hadn’t meant to. Hadn’t even noticed when her body betrayed her and drifted. Sleep wasn’t something she allowed herself to do anymore. Not in cages. Not in chains. Not in enemy ships surrounded by people who probably argued about whether she should still be breathing. But here she was. Ashar didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. Just sat exactly as she remembered, unmoving, timeless, like a statue that had been carved from the bones of dead stars. For half a second, she debated whether to sit up. Wheth

The cuffs hit the floor with a final, hollow clink. But before Mae could even pull her hands fully back, before her mind could register freedom. Ashar’s fingers brushed hers. Not intentionally. Not purposefully. An accident. A brief, harmless touch. It should’ve meant nothing. Instead. It meant everything. The air fractured. Not visually. Not audibly. But physically, reality itself lurched. A deep pulse, like a heartbeat that didn’t belong to any living thing, rumbled through the floor. The walls trembled, not like stone, but like something unraveling and remembering it was never supposed to be this way. Light shifted. The twisted pillars, those warped, spiraled structures that defied geometry, snapped. Straightened. Realigned. Not violently. Not destructively. But like a deep, aching correction. Like bones setting back into place after being shattered for so long they forgot what straight felt like. The vaulted ceiling, once coiled and fracturing endlessly into itself, folded outwa