As if reading my mind, she asks, “Why are you here, Rafe? I know you and Lorian planned a version of this.”
Her words hit me point blank and I have to focus on maintaining my composure as my guilt overwhelms me. She’s not wrong. I want to tell her that we did use her, but that we never meant for her to get into trouble with the IGC. But I can’t say anything. All of this is being recorded and I refuse to lie to her now.
So, I do the only thing I can do, I put my hand up against the forcefield and feel it burn my palm as it causes ripples. Reluctantly, she does the same on her side and we hold eye contact. Our eyes saying what our words cannot.
She breaks the silence. “You know, you’re not really helping humans. You’re only rationing us.”
“No, Eve. I’m buying time.” I take a deep breath, then say the mantra that won’t stop playing in my head. “I don’t want you to die over this.”
“Rafe, what I didisworth dying for. Aren’t all human lives expendable in the war for humanity’s equality in the galaxy?”
Her question is so heartbreaking, I can’t answer because, as usual, she’s not wrong. And I know it’s Terra Ka’s unwritten motto. But I can’t believe that she would count herself as just another number.
"Time's up," the guard says and cuts the audio connection.
I don’t remove my hand, and I mouth the words, ‘No, your life is worth far more than most, and you mean everything to me. You are special.’ Even though I know she can’t read my lips, I had to say it.
“Time’s up, Sovereign,” the guard says again, and I take a step back.
Eve bows to me formally, and I take it as an apology. I acknowledge her the same way I would on any other day at the Spire, and then I walk out, my mind spinning. The thought of Eve facing an IGC execution squad rears up something primitive and possessive inside me.
She's mine.
Ours.
Mine and Lorian’s and the galaxy doesn't get to take her away.
She did what any of us would have done. No, that’s wrong. She did what most people are afraid to do. She was willing to sacrifice everything—her status, her credits, her love for us, everything to save others, strangers because she saw that it would make a difference. She’s too good. Too clever. Too clever for us and definitely too clever for fucking Terra Nova. I won’t let her die for them. No fucking way.
I take the back elevator up to our private suite, already calculating our next moves.
When I enter, I find Lorian pouring drinks. He hands me one without comment.
"Jin Kol's assistant was very thorough," he says. "Biological evidence, Eve’s DNA at every breach point. Communication logs with timestamps matching security failures."
"How long has the IGC been building this case?"
"Weeks probably. They let her operate, gathering evidence, waiting for something big enough to justify intervention." He takes a sip. "The Championship extraction was perfect. High-profile, undeniable, with dozens of witnesses."
"They used her as bait." The realization hits like cold water. "Just like we did."
"The difference being, we protected her. We erased all the incriminating evidence because she was working for us. The IGC sees her as expendable. One human terrorist to make an example of." Lorian sets down his glass. "The trial will be quick. Public. They'll want to send a message about humans who forget their place."
“And Terra Ka will let her burn,” I say.
“Of course they will. It suits their cause as well.” Lorian sets down his drink.
"And our offer?"
"I've already put out feelers. Conditional ownership pending conviction. We'll need to structure it carefully; she can't be seen as escapingjustice. But a few years of servitude as a pet to the wronged parties? That has precedent."
"She'll choose survival as long as it’s with us. But we can’t have her going to Aefre or any of the other trainers,” I say with more confidence than I feel. "She's too pragmatic for martyrdom."
"Let's hope you're right. Because if she chooses death over ownership..." Lorian doesn't finish the thought. He doesn't need to.
I drain my glass. Even if she betrayed us. She's still ours. And we don't let go of what's ours without a fight.
53
