Chapter 3
THE DARKNESS of the auxiliary tunnel wrapped around Elara like a suffocating shroud. Her breaths came quick and shallow as she pressed herself against the damp, cold wall. She strained her ears, struggling to hear past the dull roar of her own pulse. Somewhere beyond the tunnel entrance, Zar’Ryn was fighting for his life—for her life and the lives of the women with her—and she could feel every agonizing moment of it through thebond.
His fury slammed into her, raw and relentless. It was a wildfire that consumed her thoughts, making it impossible to think clearly. Beneath it, she felt flashes of pain, bursts of frustration, and an undercurrent of something she couldn’t name. Protectiveness? Determination? Whatever it was, it burned just as fiercely, wrapping around her like a lifeline.
“Think, Elara,” she whispered to herself, her voice trembling. “He said to hide. Just… hide.”
But hiding felt wrong. The bond between them hummed with every strike of his blade, every snarl of the Marauders he fought. She could almost see it in her mind’s eye—Zar’Ryn moving with deadly precision, his body a blur of lethal efficiency. Yet she also felt the toll it was taking on him, the way her emotions distracted him and made each movement just a fraction slower than it should havebeen.
Her fingers tightened around the cold, flowing fabric of his shirt—the only thing covering her now. The scent of him lingered faintly, grounding her even as the chaos of their shared connection threatened to overwhelmher.
“You can’t stay here hiding with the others,” she muttered, forcing herself to take slow, deliberate breaths. “You have to do something.”
The sound of distant footsteps echoed through the tunnel, sharp and deliberate. Elara’s heart clenched. She pressed herself flatter against the wall, her body trembling. The bond flared, and she felt Zar’Ryn’s awareness sharpen, his attention shifting for just a moment before snapping back to the fight.
“They’re coming for us,” she told the women, the words a terrified whisper. “He can’t fight them all.”
Her instincts screamed at her to run deeper into the tunnel, to put as much distance as possible between herself and the approaching threat. But something inside of her rebelled against the idea of abandoning him. She couldn’t— wouldn’t —leave him to face this alone. Plus, the women were in no shape to run. So, hide itwas.
The battle raged on. She could feel it, every blow Zar’Ryn struck reverberating through the bond like a pulse. His anger and frustration battered against her, mingling with the sharp pain of each injury he sustained. Elara squeezed her eyes shut, clutching the bracelet on her wrist as if she could somehow use it to block out the flood of emotions.
A sudden, searing wave of pain jolted through her, stealing her breath. She doubled over, sinking to her knees, clutching her side as if the wound was her own. “Zar’Ryn,” she gasped, her voice barely audible.
He was hurt. Badly.
Her panic surged, tangling with his resolve and creating a storm of conflicting emotions that left her dizzy. She stumbled to her feet, her breathing ragged. She couldn’t stay hidden. “Stay here until I come back,” she instructed the women. To her surprise they didn’t argue. Perhaps they were too worn down to argue.
Elara emerged from the shadows of the tunnel just as Zar’Ryn executed the last of the Marauders. The chamber was a mess of blood and bodies, the air thick with the metallic tang of death. Zar’Ryn stood in the center, his chest heaving, his blade dripping with dark, viscous blood. He turned to her, his expression a mixture of anger and relief.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded, his voice sharp. “Why are you not with the other women?”
She hesitated, her gaze darting to the gash on his side, the blood seeping through his fingers. “You’re hurt,” she said, her voice trembling.
“I am fine,” he snapped. “You were supposed to stay hidden.”
“I couldn’t just sit there and wait for them to find us,” she shot back, her fear giving way to defiance. “I felt… everything. Iknew you needed me.”
His jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he stepped closer, his piercing amethyst gaze locking onto hers. “You should not have come out. You have put yourself and the rest of the women at risk.”
“So have you,” she countered, her voice softer now. “And you’re bleeding. Let me help you.”
He hesitated, the bond humming with his conflicted emotions. Finally, he nodded, lowering his blade.
Elara stepped closer, her hands trembling as she reached for the wound on his side. The bond flared, and she felt his pain as if it were her own. She winced, her fingers brushing just below his injury.
“It’s not deep,” she said, though her voice was shaky. “But it needs to be cleaned and covered as soon as possible.”
Zar’Ryn nodded silently, his gaze never leaving her face. For a moment, the chaos around them seemed to fade, leaving only the two of them and the bond that pulsed between them like a living thing.
The sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the chamber, and Zar’Ryn’s expression hardened. He stepped in front of her, his blade raised oncemore.
“More are coming,” he said grimly. “Stay behind me.”
Elara opened her mouth to argue but stopped when she felt his resolve surge through the bond. She nodded, her fingers tightening around the bracelet on her wrist.
The Marauders entered the chamber, their guttural growls filling the air. Zar’Ryn moved with practiced precision, his blade cutting through the first wave of attackers with ease. But Elara could feel his fatigue, the way his movements were just a fraction slower than before.
One of the Marauders broke through his defenses, his claws slashing toward Elara. She gasped, stumbling back, but Zar’Ryn was there, his blade cutting through the creature before it could reach her. The bond flared, and she felt his resolve and protectiveness like a physical force.
“I told you to stay back,” he growled, his voice tight with frustration.
“And I told you I can’t just sit and watch,” she shot back, her own fear laced with gritty purpose.
“Then stand and watch,” he bit out as he fought off the remaining Marauders. When the last Marauder fell, they stood in silence, their breaths coming in ragged gasps.
“We need to move,” Zar’Ryn said finally, his voice steady despite his exhaustion.
“The women?”
“Are good where they are. They do not have the necessary energy to find a way out of here, so they stay put for now. We will return for them.”
Elara nodded, her gaze lingering on him for a moment. “I’ll let them know,” she informed him, before following his lead. The bond between them pulsed with a quiet intensity, unspoken emotions weaving through the connection like threads offate.
As they made their way through the facility, Elara couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched. The bond reflected Zar’Ryn’s tension, his sharp gaze flicking to every shadow. They moved in silence, the weight of their shared connection pressing down on them like a heavy shroud.
Finally, they reached a small, dimly lit room that appeared to be a storage area. Zar’Ryn closed the door behind them, his expression grim. “We will rest here for a moment,” he said. “But we cannot stay long.”
Elara sank to the floor, her body trembling with exhaustion. She clutched the bracelet on her wrist, her mind racing with everything that had happened. The bond was a constant presence, areminder of the connection she shared with Zar’Ryn. It was overwhelming, but it was also strangely comforting.
“What is this thing?” she asked suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper. “The bond. The bracelets. What do they mean?”
Zar’Ryn didn’t answer immediately. He sat across from her, his penetrating gaze studying her intently. “I do not know,” he admitted finally. “But it is not natural. It is… something else.”
“Something dangerous,” she said, her voice trembling.
He nodded, his expression somber. “Affirmative.”
They sat in silence for a moment, the bond throbbing quietly between them. Elara couldn’t help but feel that whatever this connection was, it had already changed her—changed them both. And she had a feeling it was only the beginning.
Elara forced herself to her feet. “Let’s see what’s in here. Maybe there’s something we can use on that wound of yours.”
He grunted, gesturing toward a white box sitting on a nearby shelf. “That.”
Okay. She picked up the box and opened the lid. Sure enough it contained bandages and bottles of liquid she could only hope were for sterilization. Zar’Ryn held out his hand and she gave him the container.
He made short work of the process, pouring one of the bottles of liquid onto his cut. She hissed as the sting traveled through their bond. Fortunately, it only lasted a second. Then he pulled out a round disc and held it over the wound. Pressing an indented area, apale green beam flowed from the disc and shifted up and down his wound. Within seconds, it healed.
“Use that disc thing on your other injuries,” she encouraged.
For an instant, it looked like he intended to argue, but gave in with a gruff sigh. Little by little the pain communicating through the bracelet vanished. Finally, he nodded. “It is done.”
“That is a really nifty gadget.” Instead of returning it to the med kit, she pocketedit.
Zar’Ryn didn’t object. He simply stood and walked to the door, beckoning her to follow. “Stay behind me.”
As they moved deeper into the facility, Zar’Ryn’s steps slowed. They reached a row of cells, and Elara’s heart clenched at the sight of more frightened women inside. Their eyes were hollow, their bodies battered. She took a step forward, her voice trembling.
“Are you all right?” she asked gently.
One woman, clutching her arm against her chest, nodded weakly. “I think it’s broken, but I’m okay.”
“Will this disc thing fix her arm?” Elara asked Zar’Ryn.
“It will.” His hand grazed her shoulder, acomforting gesture. “We will free them, as we did the others,” he said firmly.
He worked quickly, dismantling the glowing locks while Elara crouched and used the disc on the woman’s arm. Within minutes, it seemed healed, tears of gratitude creeping down her cheeks. Elara checked on each of the other women, using the disc on any wounds or injuries.
Once finished, she turned to the warrior. “They’re weak, but they can walk. Even so, we need an exit. Now. And we need to get the other women hiding in the auxiliary tunnel and lead them here to join us.”
“Wait here,” Zar’Ryn ordered. “I will return shortly.”
“Shortly” seemed like an endless weight, but finally he reappeared, the first group in tow. Suddenly, machinery roared to life above them. Ablaring voice shouted, “Stay where you are. Surrender. Stay where you are. Surrender.”
The alarms screeched, adiscordant howl that vibrated through the metal walls and into Elara’s bones. Her heart raced as she stumbled behind Zar’Ryn, his massive form moving with precision and purpose. Every corner they turned felt like stepping into the unknown—agamble between safety and capture. The other captives followed in frightened silence, their fear palpable, pressing against Elara like a suffocating weight.
“Keep up,” Zar’Ryn barked over his shoulder, his voice a low growl that cut through the chaos.
The glow from his bracelet, an eerie counterpart to her own, flickered with every movement, aconstant reminder of their forced connection. It wasn’t just a bond of proximity. It was something deeper, something she couldn’t quite understand but felt with every fiber of her being.
Elara’s breath hitched as they entered a narrow corridor. The lights above flickered erratically, casting jagged shadows along the walls. She reached out instinctively, her fingers brushing the cool metal. Her legs burned from the constant running, but stopping wasn’t an option. Not with the alarms blasting. No doubt more Marauders were coming afterthem.
Zar’Ryn slowed, raising a hand to signal a stop. The group skidded to a halt, their collective gasps and muffled sobs the only sounds besides the distant thudding of boots. He turned, his powerful gaze meeting hers. For a moment, the chaos seemed to fade, leaving only the intensity of his eyes and the weight of his presence.
“Stay here,” he ordered, his voice calm but firm. “I will check ahead.”
Elara adjusted her glasses, perspiration causing a faint fog to bleed over the surface. “What if it’s a trap?” Her voice came out sharper than she intended, the fear in her chest bubbling over. She clenched her fists, trying to steady herself.
Zar’Ryn’s expression softened for a fraction of a second, before his stoic mask returned. “Then I will deal with it.” Without another word, he moved forward, his steps silent despite the heavy boots hewore.
The moment he disappeared around the corner, the tension in the group exploded. One of the captives, ayoung woman with tear-streaked cheeks, grabbed Elara’s arm. “What are we going to do? If they catch us…”
“They won’t,” Elara said, though her voice trembled. “We have to trust him.”
Trust wasn’t something she gave easily, but Zar’Ryn’s actions so far spoke louder than words. He had risked everything to get them this far, and while his motives remained unclear, there was no denying the sense of safety she felt when he was near—asafety she hated herself for needing.
Moments later, Zar’Ryn returned, his expression grim. “The way is clear for now. Move quickly.”
As the group started forward, Elara found herself at his side, the proximity unavoidable in the cramped space. The heat radiating from him both unsettled and grounded her, and she couldn’t stop herself from stealing glances at his profile. His jaw was set, his gaze locked ahead, but tension radiated through his body, something she hadn’t noticed before.
“You’re worried,” she said softly, keeping her voice low so the others wouldn’thear.
“I am always worried,” he replied, not looking at her. “It is part of staying alive.”
“No, this is different,” she pressed. “It’s… heavier.”
He finally glanced at her, his brow furrowing. “The Marauders are not the only danger we face,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “There are larger forces at play, ones that will not hesitate to destroy anyone or anything in their way.”
The weight of his words settled over her like a shroud. She wanted to ask more, but the sharp edge in his tone warned her to let it drop. Fornow.
They reached the industrial loading bay, acavernous space filled with towering crates and harsh overhead lights. The air smelled of oil and burnt metal, and the vibration of machinery reverberated through the floor. Zar’Ryn motioned for the group to stay low as he scanned thearea.
Elara’s pulse quickened when she spotted a group of Marauders. They were stationed near the main exit, their weapons gleaming under the lights. Her throat tightened as she counted at least ten of them, each one heavily armed.
“We’ll never make it past them,” she whispered, panic rising in her chest.
Zar’Ryn turned to her, his expression unreadable. “We do not have a choice. Stay behind me, and do exactly as I say.”
Before she could protest, he stepped forward, his movements precise and deliberate. The Marauders spotted him instantly, their shouts echoing across the bay. Elara’s breath caught as Zar’Ryn charged, his sword slicing through the air with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly. Of course, it was otherworldly forher.
The fight was brutal and unrelenting. Zar’Ryn moved like a force of nature, his blade cutting through his enemies with lethal efficiency. Each strike came with deliberate calculation, leaving no room for error. Elara watched in awe and terror, her heart pounding as she felt his emotions through the bond—his anger, his focus, and something deeper she couldn’tname.
Her gaze darted to a partially shielded control console near the exit, its blinking lights and wires snaking from its base. An idea formed, reckless and desperate, but it was all shehad.
“Zar’Ryn!” she shouted, her voice breaking through the chaos. “The console! If we disable it, the doors will open!”
He glanced at her, his expression a mixture of frustration and surprise. “Stay where you are!”
But she didn’t listen. She darted toward the console, her heart hammering as she slid behind a crate for cover. The Marauders’ shouts grew louder, and she felt their weapons’ sights lock onto her. Panic surged, but she forced herself to focus. Her hands fumbled with the exposed wires, searching for the right connection.
“Elara, move!” Zar’Ryn’s voice escaped as a sharp command, but she didn’t have time toobey.
A shot rang out, the energy bolt slamming into the crate beside her and sending splinters flying. She flinched but didn’t stop, her fingers locating the wire she needed. With a sharp yank, she disconnected it. The console sputtered, sparks flying as the exit doors groaned and began to slideopen.
Zar’Ryn was at her side in an instant, his hand gripping her arm as he pulled her back to safety. “Are you insane?” he hissed, his voice low and furious.
“You said we didn’t have a choice,” she shot back, her chest heaving. “I did what needed to be done.”
For a moment, he just stared at her, his grip tightening slightly before he let her go. There was something in his eyes she couldn’t quite read—anger, yes, but also a begrudging respect. He turned away, his focus snapping back to the fight as the remaining Marauders regrouped.
The captives began to move toward the open doors, their steps quick but unsteady. Elara stayed close to Zar’Ryn, her heart still racing as the last of the Marauders fell. The air was thick with the scent of ozone and blood, the bay eerily quiet now that the battle had ended.
Zar’Ryn’s voice broke the silence. “This is not over. We need to keep moving.”
Elara nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. The bond between them pulsed faintly, areminder of their strange connection. She didn’t understand it, didn’t want to, but she couldn’t deny the comfort it brought—even as it scaredher.
As they exited the bay, the distant sound of alarms grew louder. Elara glanced at Zar’Ryn, his expression as unreadable as ever. For all his stoicism, she could feel the weight of his responsibility pressing down on him, and she couldn’t help but wonder if she had just made it heavier.