Lunar Lake
“But at least… it’s over?”
“For now,” Tyler said. “Rest, Scott. You’re safe.”
Scott’s eyes drifted between Kate and Tyler, the relief of surviving fading as memory sharpened in painful clarity. His hand clenched weakly against the sheet, knuckles pale.
“There’s something you need to know,” he said, voice hoarse but urgent. “When it had me… it wasn’t just feeding on us. It was looking for something.”
Kate’s stomach tightened. “What?”
Scott’s gaze locked on her like he wished he didn’t have to say it. “A vessel. It kept whispering about a vessel strong enough to hold it. Something it could live inside… permanently.”