Cold metal pressed against her throat.
She froze as every muscle in her body locked. The blade was sharp, a thin line of fire where it touched her skin. Warm trickle down her neck. Oh shit, that was blood.
One of them was still talking. Threats, ideology, something about purity and tradition. She couldn’t hear it over the roaring in her ears.
Oh shit. She was going to die.
In an alley. Alone.
The thought should have brought terror. And it did—her whole body shook with it, tears streaming down her face, lungs burning because she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t?—
But that wasn’t what broke her.
She hadn’t told Goraath she loved him.
Even if it was just sex for him, just convenience, just a warm body in his bed after years of cold— She should have been brave enough to say it.
The blade pressed harder and she squeezed her eyes shut.
I love you, she thought, sending it out into the dark like a prayer. I love you. I’m sorry I never said it. I’m sorry I wasn’t brave enough. I’m sorry?—
The flames cast dancing shadows across Kaalden’s face as Goraath spoke in a low voice.
“The stampede wasn’t an accident.” He kept his voice level, but his hands curled into fists at his sides. “I walked the fence line afterward. Found scorch marks in the grass. Pyrotechnics. Someone set them off deliberately.”
Kaalden’s jaw tightened. “You’re certain?”
“Juni was in that field.” The memory clawed at him. Her small body on the ground with the krulaati bearing down on her. He winced at the remembered sound of her screams. “She would have died if I hadn’t reached her in time.”
Kaalden’s eyes flashed fire. “Who?”
“Tarex.” The name tasted like poison. “He lost in the lottery and he’s been bitter about it since. He’s been making comments about the program, and about the females.” His voice dropped. “About Juni specifically.”
Kaalden was quiet for a long moment, the expression in his eyes hard.
“He’s not the only one.” Kaalden glanced around the festival crowd. “There’s been three incidents in the last week. First the feed stores were contaminated, then the power relay was cut to the northern sector, where most of the female’s are being hosted. And someone breached the infirmary two nights ago.”
“The infirmary?” Goraath’s lips quirked up at the corner. “Please tell me Thayn was there.”
“Unfortunately not.” Kaalden’s eyes glinted with dark amusement. “He and his female had left an hour before. They trashed the place though.”
“Shame.” Goraath shook his head slowly. “I would have enjoyed seeing what was left of them.”
“Pieces.” The colony leader’s smile was not pleasant. “Small ones. Thayn always was thorough.”
The colony’s healer had hands gentle enough to coax life back into the dying. Those same hands had once torn enemies apart with brutal efficiency. Most colonists saw only the healer now. They’d forgotten—or never known—what Thayn had been before he’d traded blades for bandages.
Fools often forgot that healers knew exactly where to cut to make it hurt. To kill.
The amusement faded from Kaalden’s face. “They were after Autumn. They knew where she’d be. They just didn’t anticipate she’d already left.”
“They’re watching.”
“They’re learning.” Kaalden’s expression hardened. “Patterns. Routines. Waiting for the right moment.”
Something cold coiled in Goraath’s gut. “Coordinated.”
“Targeting anything connected to the program.” Kaalden nodded. “Someone wants it to fail. Badly enough to risk exposure.”
