Chapter
One
Sasha
The wind off the Restless Sea whipped my hair across my face in dark, stinging tendrils. I pushed it back with an impatient hand, my fingers already numb from the cold, and squinted through the gray twilight at the shipyard spread before me. The smell of salt and scorched fuel hung heavy in the air.
Below us, waves hurled themselves against the cliff face with a violence that matched the churning in my gut and a rhythm that echoed the pounding of my heart. Even though the spray wasn’t high enough to reach me, I could taste the brine on my lips, feel the mist settle on my skin.
I crossed my arms over my chest, the academy uniform doing little to ward off the chill that had nothing to do with the weather. The uniform felt wrong on my body, too clean, too stiff after months in Kronock captivity wearing my old, tattered flight suit.
Not that I wasn’t grateful to be wearing it or grateful to be on Drex instead of the alien prison. I was, but I couldn’t shake the sensation that I wasn’t quite free.
I hurried across the open space and past the rows of sleek, obsidian-hulled fighters lining the tarmac. Even in the dim light, they seemed to absorb what little illumination filtered through the clouds. Behind me, the Drexian Academy loomed, all dark stone and lofty towers that clawed at the stormy sky. It looked more like a fortress than a school, which made sense given what they taught.
Despite the imposing edifice, the academy windows glowed with warm light, promising sanctuary and warmth, but I had no interest in either. Not yet.
I spotted him immediately, even across the windswept expanse of the shipyard. Deklyn moved with the same arrogant swagger I’d come to know so well during our time as prisoners. Even from this distance, I could see the confident set of his jaw, the squared shoulders. He was the same cocky bastard who’d driven me half-insane in that Kronock cell with his insufferable smirks and his absolute certainty that his plan would work.
The same bastard who’d been right.
I picked up my pace to catch up, skirting behind vessels and ducking around pockmarked paving stones. Deklyn was halfway to his transport when I stepped out from behind the tail of a grounded fighter, directly into his path. I felt savage satisfaction when he stopped dead in his tracks.
For a heartbeat, something flickered across his features. Surprise, maybe. Or something deeper, something that made heat coil low in my belly before I ruthlessly crushed it down.
Then, that infuriating smirk spread across his face, and he was back to being the arrogant Drexian who thought the universe revolved around him.
“Did you come to say goodbye, sweetheart?” he drawled, standing a few paces from me. Close enough that I could see the black flecks in his gold eyes, close enough to smell the spicy, musky scent of him. “I’m touched.”
The endearment sent a spike of irritation through me. That was the same thing he’d called me in the prison. Except now there was something else mixed in, something warm and treacherous that I refused to acknowledge.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Dek.” I kept my voice controlled, even though the wind was doing its best to steal my words.
“Then what brings you out in this weather? Missing me already?”
Up close, I could see he’d cleaned up since our escape. The stubble was shorter, the dirt and blood washed away. The fresh scar along his temple was barely visible unless you knew where to look. But those gold eyes that had watched me with such intensity during our imprisonment held the same gleam they always had.
“You can’t go,” I said, the words cutting through the thrashing waves.
His eyebrow arched in that maddeningly superior way of his. “Can’t live without me?”
“Hardly.” The lie came easily, though something deep in my chest twisted at the words. “But I can’t exact my revenge without you.”
The change in his expression was subtle but unmistakable. The casual arrogance remained, but underneath it, I glimpsed something sharper. More calculating. This was the Drexian who’d orchestrated our escape from an impenetrable Kronock jail, not just the cocky warrior who liked to push my buttons.
“Revenge?” His voice was carefully neutral. “Against who?”
I stepped close enough that I had to tilt my head back to meet his gaze. Close enough to see the way his pupils dilated slightly, the almost imperceptible intake of breath. “Against whoever in Earth’s military decided I wasn’t worth rescuing.”
The wind gusted between us, carrying the scent of rain. Storm weather. How fitting.
“What makes you think?—?”
“I know the rescue mission was unauthorized,” I cut him off, observing his face as a tiny muscle in his jaw tightened. “I may have been rotting in a Kronock cell, but I’m not stupid. Someone made the call to abandon me, and I’m going to find out who.”
For a long moment, he just stared at me. Behind him, I could see the lights of his transport, the promise of escape from this place, from these questions, from me.
“And what if you’re wrong?” he asked finally. “What if there’s another explanation?”
