Chapter 29
Mila
The chains bit into Mila’s wrists as she shifted on the damp stone floor. Her ribs protested with each shallow breath, a reminder of Kurg’s brutality. The underground cell reeked of mold and decay, its darkness broken only by thin shafts of light filtering through a barred window near the ceiling.
“At least Priscilla’s safe now.” Her whisper echoed off the stone walls. The image of her sister’s beaten face haunted her, but the knowledge that Brivul would protect her brought a measure of comfort.
The cold seeped through her torn dress, making her long for Brivul’s warmth. Their last morning together felt like a distant dream now—his gentle touch, the safety of his arms, the way his violet eyes had sparkled when he called her his mate.
A rat scuttled across the floor, its claws clicking against stone. Mila drew her knees closer to her chest, ignoring the protest of her bruised muscles. “You should see this place, Brivul. Makes the cargo hold look luxurious.”
Her fingers traced the rough wall behind her, finding grooves carved by previous prisoners. How many others had sat here, counting their breaths while waiting for rescue or death? The thought of Priscilla ending up here made her stomach turn.
“I’d do it again.” She tested her chains for the hundredth time. “Every time. For her.”
Blood trickled down her arm where the metal had rubbed her skin raw. The metallic scent mixed with the musty air, making her dizzy. Or perhaps that was the blow to her head. The guards hadn’t been gentle when they’d dragged her down here.
Heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor. Mila’s heart raced as Kurg’s silhouette appeared through the rusty bars. His rings glinted in the dim light as he unlocked her cell and stepped in.
“Look what we have here. The little slave who thought she could outsmart me.” Kurg’s cologne couldn’t mask the stench of cheap liquor on his breath. Behind him loomed his enforcer, the Draknid’s cybernetic eye casting an eerie red glow across the stone walls. Four guards flanked him, their weapons trained on her.
“I think I might have found the perfect buyer for you.” Kurg’s thick fingers gripped her chin. “The mines of Korus always need fresh meat. The radiation burns will be the least of your problems.”
Mila jerked away from his touch, her chains rattling. The thought of those mines made her blood run cold. No one survived there more than a few months.
“And once you’re safely underground, I’ll pay your dear sister a visit.” His lips curved into a cruel smile. “Maybe I’ll make it quick. Maybe I won’t.”
The Draknid’s mechanical eye whirred as it focused on her. Its red beam cut through the darkness, scanning her like she was merchandise to be cataloged.
“You won’t touch her.” Mila snapped.
Kurg laughed, the sound bouncing off the damp stone walls. “Bold words from someone in chains. Your sister was always the weak one of you two. It won’t take much to break her. Just like your mother.”
Rage burned through Mila’s veins, hot enough to make her forget her injuries. Her mother had died protecting them both. She wouldn’t let her sacrifice be in vain.
Kurg finally stepped back, straightening his elaborate coat. “Enjoy your last night of relative comfort. The mines aren’t known for their hospitality.”
Kurg’s footsteps faded up the stone stairs, leaving Mila with his four guards and the Draknid enforcer. The enforcer’s red eye tracked her every movement, its mechanical whir setting her teeth on edge.
A crash suddenly echoed from above, followed by shouts. The guards turned toward the noise, their weapons raised.
Brivul burst through the doorway at the top of the stone stairs. Three other Niri warriors followed, their movements fluid and practiced as they descended the stone stairs and engaged the guards. The clash of metal on metal soon filled the cramped space.
“Get away from her!” Brivul’s deep voice thundered through the cell.
Mila’s heart soared at the sight of him. He moved with lethal grace, his blade finding gaps in the guards’ armor. One of his companions—a female Niri with silver scales—took down two guards with precise strikes while the others handled the remaining forces.
The Draknid enforcer charged at Brivul, his cybernetic eye glowing brighter. Their weapons met in a shower of sparks. Brivul fought with controlled fury, each strike purposeful. The enforcer’s mechanical parts sparked and sputtered under Brivul’s onslaught until a final blow sent him crashing to the ground.
“Mila.” Brivul rushed to her side, his eyes scanning her injuries. His fingers were gentle as he broke her chains. “I’m so sorry I let them take you.”
The metal fell away and Mila collapsed into his arms, breathing in his familiar scent. Her bruised ribs protested, but she didn’t care.
“You came for me.”
“Always.” He cradled her face, careful of her injuries. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”
His companions secured the unconscious guards while Brivul examined her wounds. His touch was feather-light as he checked her ribs.
“Can you walk?”
“I think so.” Her legs shook as she stood, but Brivul’s arm around her waist kept her steady.
“We need to move,” one of his companions called from the doorway.
Mila planted her feet despite the pain shooting through her legs. “Wait.” Her voice cracked from disuse, but determination steadied her next words. “We can’t leave. Not yet.”
The silver-scaled female Niri peered around the corner. “More guards are coming.”
The damp stone walls of the cell seemed to close in, but Mila straightened her spine. “Kurg will hunt us down wherever we go. He has connections everywhere.” Her ribs ached with each breath. “The only way to truly be free is to expose him.”
Torchlight flickered across Brivul’s violet eyes as he supported her weight. The warmth of his scales against her side almost made her forget the chill of the dungeon.
“His private terminal.” Mila licked her cracked lips. “If we can send the evidence of his embezzlement directly from there, the Council of Seven can’t deny its authenticity.”
Shouts echoed down the corridor, growing closer. Metal scraped against stone as guards approached. The acrid smell of smoke drifted down from above—likely from whatever distraction Brivul and his soldiers had created to get in.
“The terminal’s three floors up.” She gripped Brivul’s arm tighter. “We’ll never have another chance like this while his guards are scattered and we’re already inside.”
The sound of running footsteps grew louder. One of Brivul’s companions drew his weapon. Mila’s heart beat erratically in her chest, but she held firm. This was their moment to end it all—to ensure Priscilla’s freedom, to stop Kurg from hurting anyone else.
“Listen to me,” Mila insisted. “As long as Kurg has power, we’ll never be safe.”
“You can barely stand.” Brivul’s eyes flickered with concern as he steadied her. “We need to get you medical attention.”
The distant sounds of fighting echoed through the stone corridors, but Mila refused to back down.
“If we run now, we’ll spend the rest of our lives looking over our shoulders.” Her ribs screamed in protest as she straightened.
The silver-scaled female Niri at the doorway shifted. “More guards approaching from the east wing.”
“Three floors.” Brivul’s jaw clenched as he looked up the spiral staircase. “Through who knows how many guards.”
“I know the layout.” Mila pressed her hand to his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat beneath her palm. “I’ve cleaned every inch of this place. There’s a service passage the guards don’t use. It’ll take us right to his private wing.”
His scales rippled with tension beneath her touch. She saw the battle in his eyes—the need to protect her warring with the tactical advantage of her plan.
“You’re my mate.” His voice dropped low. “I just got you back.”
“And I want a future with you where we’re truly free.” The words came from deep in her heart. “Where we can build a life together without fear.”
Brivul studied her face for a long moment. His tail coiled around her protectively as shouts grew closer. Finally, he gave a sharp nod.
“Show us the way.” He scooped her into his arms, mindful of her injuries. “But if things go wrong, we retreat immediately.”
Relief flooded through her as she pointed toward a narrow corridor. “Left at the junction. The hidden door is behind the tapestry.”