“I have been hunted before.”
“You will lose protection.”
“I prefer honesty.”
His hand tightens at my back.
“Then we move forward together,” he says quietly.
“Yes.”
A comm alert pulses softly at the edge of the room.
Rethan’s voice filters through the door. “Captain, clan fleets are assembling. Ritual arena prepared.”
Kael’s jaw sets.
He exhales once, controlled.
“Open channel,” he says.
The door slides partially aside, and the comm feed activates fully.
“Clan leaders,” Kael says, his voice steady despite the bandage tight across his ribs, “assemble your champions. I will answer your challenge.”
Silence answers him first.
Then Vorthan’s voice comes through. “Even wounded?”
“Especially wounded,” Kael replies.
The channel closes.
He looks at me again, something fierce and unyielding settling into his expression.
“Help me stand,” he says.
I slide off the cot and offer my arm.
He takes it.
Outside the viewport, the Badlands glow with the cold light of waiting fleets.
Victory has cost blood.
Power is no longer assumed.
And the next battle will not be against Alliance warships—but against doubt.
I tighten my grip on his forearm.
“Let’s show them,” I say quietly.
And together, we step toward the arena.
CHAPTER 26
KAEL
