Chapter Fourteen
Two hours later, we docked with Titus Space Station.
Compared to the Argentum’s four-ringed architecture, Titus’s huge, bulbous structure was uncharismatic and garish.
With a solid white hull, the enormous cube sparkled in the sunlight, making it the most visible space station from all others and the surface of Quoram, apparently.
Due to being one of the newer erected stations—built only a century ago—the inside was fresh, bright, and spacious.
The towering ceilings made the echoes of voices and machinery ten times louder than they actually were, and the twelve-metre-wide corridors around the docks always swarmed with people.
This area was a prime spot for pickpockets, catching the dazed arrivals and inexperienced travellers unawares.
At the thought, I clutched my backpack straps a little tighter as we ambled through the crowd, ignoring the ensnaring advertisers and obnoxious salesmen.
It was one of the reasons I hated Titus—too many people.
But that wasn’t the main reason I avoided this station.
The last time I’d stepped foot onboard Titus was the night of my graduation—the night the Damson bond had tried to take hold.
And as the sounds and smells of the vast station probed a redundant part of my brain, my chest tightened at the memory they stirred.
I followed behind Saul and the rest of our security unit as Torz strode two steps ahead.
Marla, with her luscious red hair and flowing purple robes, walked close beside him.
Still unable to sense any trickle of emotion from Torz, I wondered if he was haunted by the memories the station roused.
But due to Titus being the government hub of the Orbital Civilisation, he’d attended plenty of Board meetings here over the past few years.
Perhaps he’d become numb to its relevance and our history.
Perhaps he’d forgotten or simply didn’t care. I wasn’t sure which one I preferred.
As soon as we passed through luggage control, Torz and Marla were met by two Linxos guards dressed in their navy-blue uniforms. After a brief conversation, Marla and her new security detail turned towards the government offices located far to the left, across the vast atrium.
Watching her go with an astute gaze, Torz handed his small suitcase to a porter, then led our team across the shiny white floor tiles to the main elevator pods.
A modest crowd congregated at the wall of at least twenty metal doors, where they waited for the next scheduled pod to arrive.
A door pinged open, and the majority squeezed into the cramped lift, leaving the space before us empty as another pod arrived.
This one displayed a downward arrow with the letters br on the digital panel overhead.
Torz nodded to it. “Barracks are on Level Twelve, Zone br. I’ve requested a private room for the four of you to share. Meet me on Level Twenty-Five, Zone AA in…” He glanced at his watch. “Let’s say forty minutes.”
Understanding his orders, I went to follow the others into the awaiting pod, but Torz’s fingers caught my right arm, pulling me back. Electricity zapped through my veins, and I almost yelped from the shock.
Looking back at my commander, I found him smirking at me.
“Can’t you count?”
Confused, I caught Saul waving as the elevator doors closed, shutting him and the others off from view.
The adjacent door pinged open, and Torz coerced me in with a gentle tug on the arm he still held. My skin tingled under the warmth of his fingertips, even more so when his hand fell away.
I cleared my throat, wanting to ask where we were going, but words failed me. I already knew why. He was keeping me close, well aware last night’s Q still flittered about in my bloodstream. Soon I’d be overwhelmed by withdrawal symptoms, and he didn’t trust me not to seek out replenishment.
Surrounded by a dozen strangers, we stood side by side, watching the level numbers scroll up and the zone letters sweep across. The higher they went, the harsher the uncertainty consuming me bared its teeth, gnashing at me like an assault of pointed spikes. I was ready to scream.
“There wasn’t any more room.” Torz’s unexpected words caught me off guard, and I flashed him a confused look. “At the barracks,” he explained. “With the week-long gala, all the beds are full. And as you were a last-minute inclusion…”
“Oh.” Shame slammed into me, making me avert my gaze.
But my breath hitched—my heart spasmed—as a mental hand delicately stroked my hair and neck.
I’d never felt anything like it before. It was soothing, comforting, but it left me gasping for air as I forced my stance to remain strong, my face impassive.
Was that Torz through our bond? Was he trying to ease my self-loathing, my regret? Or was I really going insane? The Damson God had mentioned absorbing too much Q caused the same symptoms as The Quoram Effect. Had the doses I’d taken last night finally tipped the scales?
But I’d been slowly questioning my reality for months, what with the dreams and the meaning behind them. My mind was a brewing volcano, full of toxic conversations and overly volatile thoughts.
I inhaled deeply, closing my eyes with a despair fuelled by self-aversion and fear. I didn’t deserve Torz’s protection. I wasn’t sure if I ever had.
The doors chimed open, and like a sea of claustrophobia being sucked through an airlock, the pod emptied—only Torz and I remained.
My chest tightened as the doors closed, locking us inside.
The elevator began to rise again, and the air thickened with a tension triggered by my own notions.
I was struggling to replenish the breath in my lungs.
And when Torz stepped in front of me, his commanding presence compelling my eyes to meet his, I stopped breathing altogether.
He was only a few inches taller than me, but in that moment, I felt small. Dominated. Just like in last night’s dream…
Heat flushed in my chest as desire pooled deep in my belly, strumming at my core.
Gods, make it stop! He’ll feel it.
“I’m sorry,” Torz said softly, his eyes studying my face with a stifling warmth. “For being angry with you.”
“Don’t,” I whispered, dropping my gaze to his upright collar. “I deserved it.”
His shoulders stiffened before he blew out another breath, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple confirming his own awkward thoughts. The doors pinged open, and he twisted, motioning to the exit. “This is us.”
Level Sixty-Four, Zone AC. Where were we?
Stepping into a luxurious hotel foyer, I choked back my gasp.
A white domed ceiling with a giant, twinkling chandelier hung high above.
Below it stood a grey-and-white marble reception desk that seemed far too long for the two receptionists manning it.
To the left, huge potted plants with twisted purple stems and pale leaves edged the entrance to an alcove of velvet seats, where a smartly dressed man lounged, reading from a foldable tablet.
Torz strode over to the desk as I ambled further into the picture of wealth.
A large cobalt-blue rug cushioned my booted feet as my eyes devoured the patterns on the delicately crafted pillars lining the entrance to a wide corridor on the far side.
In awe, I ran my hands along the silky cream walls.
They weren’t a cool metallic like the Argentum’s inner structure—like my apartment.
They were a tepid, soft veneer. But this hotel was a different tier to my standard living quarters, Torz’s also. This was upper-class elegance.
Did Torz always stay in such luxury when on government business? Surely, he would’ve said something.
My commander appeared at my side and offered me a key-chip. “For our room.”
I lifted my gaze from the key to his face, then back to the opulence surrounding me. “So, you are staying here?”
“We’re staying here.”
A woman sauntered past with her head held high, dressed in an exquisitely tailored two-piece suit with gold buttons and elegantly stylish heels.
I questioned if I was posh enough to rub shoulders with the elite.
I’d always felt smart and proud clad in my security uniform, but here, I was a rough pebble among refined gemstones.
“Wait?” I shot Torz a wide-eyed glare. “Our room?”
“There wasn’t enough time for me to find you somewhere to stay. I have a suite. I’ll take the sofa.”
“No, you fucking won’t.” I tensed, burning under the scathing attention of the two receptionists and the smartly dressed man sitting in the alcove—all clearly disgraced by my vulgar words.
“Look…” Torz took my arm, steering me away.
A zap of electricity sparked over my skin at his touch, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
My feet stumbled as he led me across the foyer, through the pillared entrance, and into the corridor.
Swirling pictures and elaborate vases lined the walls.
I brushed my fingers over the pink flowers proudly standing at attention.
They were pynaz from Quoram’s Nova Valley.
They’d always been my favourite, hence why I’d attempted to paint them on my bedroom ceiling years ago.
I loved how the tiny magenta petals looked like miniature blossoms themselves, creating a silky, luscious structure.
“We can discuss this later.” Torz’s voice yanked me back to the reality of the situation. “Just make yourself at home and…” He pulled me to a stop and took a deep, resounding breath. “Promise me you won’t leave the room.” His eyes rose to meet mine, and a flash of unease stirred within them.
As his words sunk in, something snapped inside me—something resentful and bitter. My following reaction was irrational—I knew it was—but his demand was downright derogatory, and it hurt like fucking hell.
I snatched the key from his fingers, gritting my teeth. “Maybe you should give yourself peace of mind, Torz, and lock me in the room.”
I stormed off down the corridor, leaving him rooted to the spot. He didn’t follow, and I was glad of it. I needed space to clear my head.
Working with him had initially been a saving grace, but recently, it had become excruciating.
And now, faced with living and sleeping in such close proximity to him…
I wasn’t sure how I’d cope. As rejected Damsons with an active bond, it was going to be torturous.
And following this morning’s heated conversation, how could he not understand that?
It was as if he intended to punish us both. And by Gods, he was succeeding.