Chapter 39 #2
I could’ve kissed Jackson for being so smart. He’d just singlehandedly created doubt about the Chiefs’ authority, in front of four major Collectives.
If they had no legitimate power, they couldn’t do shit to us.
Not declare war.
Not persecute anyone.
Not arrest anyone.
And we had every right to fight them if they tried.
“Brilliant,” Caden mumbled, his dark eyes glinting with newfound respect for Jackson.
The High Chief’s gaze swept over the gathered Offensives, his jaw tight when his eyes finally met mine with that cold, detached scrutiny.
“She’s not a resident of Crown, Kanata C, or Slava,” he said, his tone shifting into something hard and unforgiving. “They have no business defending Ms. Thompson, no matter who’s legitimately in charge.”
Jackson turned toward us briefly. “No? Pretty sure last time I checked, Cyclos still follows the laws of the Collective.” He paused for a hazardous beat. “And those laws state one is tried before they are punished, not the other way around.”
He paused for effect, then continued, “Crown’s one of Cyclos’s alliances. And Slava is one of Crown’s. And you’re standing on Kanata C’s turf. Everyone here has a right to stand today, no matter who’s legitimately a resident of whom.”
The Chief’s hand twitched around his weapon—
“Go ahead,” Jackson said softly. “Do it. Create an international conflict when we’re already at war with humans.”
A ripple of energy rolled through the ground. The Offensives of Slava shifted first, their hands flexing around their weapons, their stances tightening.
Petru’s sword gleamed beneath the low light. Rachel’s hand hovered near her belt, and Sean’s eyes flashed with dark intensity.
The High Chief studied Jackson, clearly recognizing he had seriously underestimated my amazing friend.
“She survived translation beneath the bubble,” the Chief repeated almost desperately.
Jackson shrugged. “Maybe because she’s built differently. Or maybe because someone designed it that way. We don’t know why, but neither do you.”
Jackson glanced back to me for a second before returning to the Chief.
“You’ve got nothing,” Jackson said softly. “And you know it.”
The Chief’s gaze remained steady, but the tension in his hand wavered. His weapon lowered by an inch. His attention shifted to Petru, then James—then to Caden—then to me.
And then…he sheathed his Corona.
The rage and disappointment etched across his face were mirrored in those of the other Chiefs as they followed his lead.
“We’ll be waiting to hear about that deal we struck, Ms. Thompson,” the High Chief forced out through gritted teeth, his gaze cutting between me and Caden.
Caden’s head dipped in a cold, mocking nod. “Wouldn’t hold my breath.”
The High Chief’s jaw clenched. And then, with a quick flick of his hand, he and the other United Chiefs summoned their portals and vanished.
My breath trembled out of me, and I realized my whole body was shaking.
Jackson let out a low whistle, his mouth curling into an amused smile, then turned to Sean, Caden, and me. “Are you guys coming out from underneath that bubble any time soon?”
I laughed, too loud, letting the emotions roll out with it. Relief. Adrenaline. The lingering buzz of soul scraping fear.
We crossed the border, and I went to hug Jackson, only to be shoved aside by Sean, who grabbed Jackson's face between his hands.
“That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Sean growled, then crashed his lips onto Jackson’s.
Jackson’s arms flailed for half a second before he melted into it. His hands curled into Sean’s jacket, dragging him closer. Sean’s fingers slid through Jackson’s hair, and the kiss deepened into something that burned—possessive, desperate—probably a little too much for the current setting.
When Sean finally pulled back, Jackson was breathless and blinking
“Did you—” Jackson gasped. “Did you just—”
Sean’s gaze stayed sharp. “You bet your fucking ass I did.”
Jackson’s eyes darkened slightly. Then he swore under his breath and yanked Sean in for another kiss.
I blinked a few times as I stared at them, then frowned in confusion. Weren’t they married? Why was Jackson acting so surprised over a kiss?
Before I could analyze their relationship further, Caden’s hand slid over my arm. His grip tightened for half a second, grounding me whether I wanted it or not.
“You good?” His voice was low.
I nodded slowly, then watched as Petru stepped toward me, his dark armor shifting beneath the low light.
“This is not how I had hoped to meet again,” he said, “but it is still a pleasure to lay my eyes upon you.”
I grinned. “Don’t lie. You coming to my aid in my hour of need? This is exactly how you hoped to meet me again.”
Petru let out a short laugh, then froze, visibly stunned he had produced such a sound.
“Oxana,” he said, before a figure stepped out from behind him.
Petru’s sister was tall and lithe, and her long black hair gleamed like silk. Her dark eyes mirrored Petru’s—cold and piercing—but with a quiet intensity beneath the surface. A twin sword rested across her back, the sharp steel barely visible beneath the hem of her cloak.
She gave me a once-over, then nodded once.
“Oxana,” I said, my voice still raw from the emotion. “Very nice to meet you.”
The raven-haired beauty’s mouth twitched faintly. “You as well. My brother has told me many good things about you, and I must say, your courage was not exaggerated.”
“Neither was yours,” I replied. “But then again, a fierce warrior of Slava never is.”
A ghost of a smile curled at the corner of her mouth.
“Last I heard, you were pregnant. May I inquire after your child?” I had no idea why I suddenly sounded so formal, but my instincts screamed at me to keep my distance.
Her eyes narrowed. “You may not.”
I blinked, a little shocked by her reply. And worried I’d inadvertently said something inconsiderate. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”
I quickly turned toward Petru, feeling a bit awkward about my failed attempt at befriending his sister. “Thank you,” I mumbled quickly. “I do apologize you had to portal in for this.”
Petru’s dark eyes softened slightly before he shook his head once. “I don’t mind. I’m always proud to stand by your side.”
Warmth spread through my chest. Without thinking, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him.
The world seemed to gasp at my audacity, until Petru Stoyan—after a moment of rigid hesitation—awkwardly hugged me back.
I swore I could hear Caden chuckle when Petru patted my back in the most uncomfortable gesture I’d ever felt, his hands hovering like he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with them.
When I finally released him, he looked utterly bewildered, like I’d handed him a live grenade.
“Thank you,” I whispered again.
When I stepped back, Petru extended a hand toward Caden, who shook it with a steady grip. Their eyes met in quiet understanding, something forged not through words, but through shared experience.
When Petru’s gaze slid toward Sean, his expression flickered with dry amusement. “We found the unflushable shits you left behind during your last visit.”
Sean smirked. “Whoops.”
Jackson laughed, a deep, warm sound that rippled through the clearing.
Petru turned back to me. “I assume you’ll be explaining this to the other Collectives?”
I hesitated, uncertain whether this was the usual way of doing things. “Actually, I believe mister Lau will be doing so, seeing as how he just became the spokesperson for peace.”
I glanced at my friend. Jackson’s brow lifted in slight surprise at my suggestion, but after a brief pause, he nodded in agreement. “It’s why my Leader brought me here,” he said smoothly, his tone settling into practiced confidence. “And it would be my honor to do so.”
James nodded, but his jaw remained tight. Beneath the lines of tension, his focus stayed on me, like he was trying to figure out exactly what I’d put into motion.
No one said another word. We didn’t need to.
As one, the Offensives of Slava stepped through their portals, vanishing into the cold shimmer of green magic.
Those of Kanata C and Crown followed, James and Jackson on their heels, until only Caden and I remained.
The clearing felt emptier for it.
I grabbed Caden’s hand and squeezed once, then drew a deep breath and pulled the magic up through my palms, a swirl of green light forming around my fingers, right as I caught something at the far edge of the clearing.
A shape. A disturbance.
Something breaking the pattern of stillness like a stone through glass.
My eyes snapped to the tree line as one man stepped out of the shadows: human, armed, his face blank, focused, and impossibly calm.
Our gazes locked for a single, brutal heartbeat. He lifted his rifle, sighting straight on me.
It was the same look.
The same stillness I’d seen when ten militants had come to my parents’ house. The same moment before the rifles rose. Before the shots. Before they died.
The memory slammed into me, and my body just froze, all power uselessly caged behind my ribs.
“Emma!”
Caden’s shout tore through the clearing, in vain.
The gun fired.
The sound hit me a second too late, chasing the image of Caden already moving, his body a blur of motion and instinct, faster than thought. He hit me hard, the force of him driving me backward as the shot tore through the air.
“Caden—no!” My voice tore itself from my throat.
The impact came mid-turn, a brutal, sickening thud followed by the spray of red that bloomed across his side. The sound of it, the smell of gunpowder and blood, hit all at once, sharp and metallic and too real.
Caden staggered but didn’t fall.
I didn’t think. I didn’t breathe.
I moved, and barreled into his side, instinct and panic driving me as I shoved us both through my open portal, arms locked around him as his weight sagged against me and the world tore itself apart around us.
For a split second, I caught the human lowering his rifle, smoke still curling from the barrel, the spent casing dropping free as everything collapsed into nothing.