Sloane led the others forward, and her blaster took out anything that dared cross our path. She moved with the efficiency of a soldier, like she’d done this a hundred times before. I couldn’t stop staring at her, wondering who she was, wondering why she was with him. Jealousy prickled my skin, even as relief sang through me. Because no matter who Sloane was, I was in Zaph’s arms. He came for me. He found me. And somewhere between terror and trembling hope, the truth whispered: my feelings for him had become something more. Was it love?The word scared me almost as much as the lab we’d just left behind.
I had only known him for a few days; if I were being generous, we might have spent a week together. Still, there was this undeniable bond between us. I couldn't say whether it was forged by fear and my dependency on him rescuing me, or truly an emotion born deep inside me.
We made it to the elevator; bodies pressed close, the rescued women clung to one another, and I wished I had the energy or courage to reach out to them. To give them some of the comfort Zaph was giving me.
For a moment, we were safe as the elevator made its way up. As soon as the doors reopened, Sloane fired without hesitation at every Ohrur patrol we passed, and I buried my face in Zaph’s shoulder, breathing him in, drawing strength from every step he took.
More doors ahead of us opened, and the world widened into a tarmac. A massive ship loomed before us, sleek and bristling with promise. My chest ached at the sight; it was freedom carved into steel.
We surged forward. I clung to Zaph, safe in his arms, until I noticed motion ahead. A group of Space Guardians blocked the ramp, their silver skin gleaming under the floodlights. My pulse jumped. What now?
Another Guardian stood, proud and strong, at the ramp. His hand was reaching for the blaster by his side, but something stopped him. He looked at Zaph and stilled.
“Are you Vraax Zeljed?” one of theothers asked sharply, not at Zaph but towards the Guardian by the ramp.
“He is not,” Zaph said flatly, his gaze sliced across the Guardians. Something passed between them, words I didn’t hear, and I realized Zaph was using the same mind control on them that Nythor had used on me. As if leashed, the Guardians turned and left, just like that.
“What the hell, Zapharos?” Sloane snarled, dragging two women up the ramp. “You have fucking mind control?” She looked about ready to deck him, and for one breath, I actually cheered her on, because I could understand that urge all too well. Not right now, but Zaph had made me feel like that plenty of times before.
“You should get us out of here,” Zaph said, utterly unbothered.
We piled into the cargo bay, the rescued women huddled together, some sobbing, some silent as stone. I wanted to bury myself in Zaph’s arms, to thank him, to rage at him for not coming sooner—all at once—but the ship was already rumbling beneath our feet.
"Come, Vraax can take over from here." Zaph kept carrying me, away from the women, down a hallway following Sloane andVraax? That had to be the Guardian's name.
I threw a look at the women. "I should stay, help them." I objected weakly.
“You need attention first,” Zaph decided, not giving me a choice. His arms tightened just enough to silencefurther protest. A door hissed open at our approach at the end of the corridor, and he carried me inside.
The moment we were alone, the ship's noise faded. It was just us, a low-lit cabin, and the thrum of engines underfoot. Everything else—Sloane, Vraax, the women—fell away like a curtain.
“Zaph…” My voice broke on his name. He had barely set me down on my feet when I threw my arms around his neck, needing the contact, the proof that he was solid, here, real. That I was free. That he had rescued me once again. His hands slid over me, not in hunger but in a frantic inventory, palms hovering at my ribs, my wrists, my face.
“Are you alright?” His eyes were scanning me like a weapon’s sight, searching for any sign of injury.
“I’m fine,” I lied, though my knees felt like water. “I’m fine now.”
He cupped my jaw, his thumb brushing the corner of my mouth as if he was trying to erase everything that had happened to me.
“I should have come sooner,” he muttered. There was a crack in his voice I had never heard before.
Something inside me shifted at that sound. For all his power, all his arrogance, he was looking at me like a man who’d almost lost everything. It made my heart hammer. I pressed my forehead to his chest, breathing him in. The heat of his skin, the faint shimmer of his aura, all of it wrapped around me until I couldn’t tell where his heartbeat ended and minebegan.
“I thought I’d never see you again,” I whispered, the words spilling before I could stop them. “And what they were doing—Zaph, it’s… It’s beyond comprehension.”
His arms tightened like steel bands, but he didn’t speak.
“I wanted to kill them,” I admitted softly. “When I saw the tanks, the women—what they were making them carry—I wanted to watch them burn.” My voice shook. “I stopped you because… because my human side still tells me it’s wrong. But not because I was convinced.”
That scared me more than the Ohrurs. The anger inside me wasn’t leaving; it was coiling, shaping itself into something I didn’t recognize. I wasn’t sure if I was changing for the better.
“I’m glad you came for me before…” I stopped, unable to finish, unable to voice whatbeforemeant. Before the worst could happen. Before I became another ghost inside a cage.
He tilted my chin up, and the molten gold in his eyes made my breath catch. For the first time since the cell, a fragile thread of safety stitched itself across the ragged edges inside me.
"If something had happened to you," he rasped. His hands found my face, cradled it. He shook his head, unable to form the words.
I rose to my tiptoes. "It didn't, though. Nothing I can't survive at least. Thank you for saving me."
