Chapter 27
twenty-seven
. . .
ryker
I’m completely exhausted, and my body is aching from sitting so long.
We arrived home sometime in the early morning hours, and I took a long, hot shower to wash off the long day of travel before I collapsed into bed.
With a rare day off to recuperate, I planned to spend the first half under the blankets, avoiding the rest of the world—and my responsibilities.
It’s around midday when I finally groan awake, reluctantly peeling my eyelids apart.
As I adjust to the light, another loud bang reverberates against my door.
Maybe if I ignore it, whoever it is will just give up and go away.
I shove my head deeper into the pillow, but another forceful knock echoes even louder this time.
Dammit.
“Open up!” a voice barks from the other side. My stomach twists at the sound of Kellan’s voice.
With a heavy sigh, I push myself out of bed, grabbing the first pair of pants I can find, jumping into them and completely disregarding whether I look presentable.
“Yes?” I shove every bit of annoyance into the single word as I swing the door open to reveal Kellan standing there, looking far from his usual self. He appears almost sickly, his face pale and drawn. I might be the dorm leader, but I’m not a damn nurse.
“Where is she?” Kellan demands, his eyes narrowing as he looks past me into my room as if expecting to find Raea hiding in the corner. The idea strikes me as almost absurd—there’s no way she would ever be in here. But then my mind comes to a sudden halt.
Why is he so desperate to find her here?
“What do you mean? Why would she be here? Have you checked her room?” I keep my tone calm, even as dread washes over me like a cold wave. Of course, he’s already checked her room; the frantic look he gives me says enough.
“She’s not there. Nobody has seen her. Is it possible she’s still flying?
” The edge of panic in his voice makes my blood run cold.
They should have been back by now. I leave the door open, my mind racing with hundreds of possibilities, as I fumble through my clothes to grab a shirt, pulling it on in a hurry and searching for my boots.
Once I’m dressed enough to face the world, I strap on my weapon belt and shut the door behind me with a loud clack.
“Let’s go,” I bark, anxiety already swirling inside me, as I take off at a brisk pace toward the launch pad.
If her transport has arrived, it means they’re back.
If it hasn’t, well... Why the hell are there so many people in my way?
Nobody else seems to share my rising panic as I weave through the throng of bodies filling the corridor.
I ignore the surprised gasps and protests from other students as I shove them out of the way.
I hear Kellan behind me muttering apologies as we go.
Always the simpering fool.
I reach out for the Bond between us—both of them—and can’t get a reading on either. I calm the storm already brewing within me; no need to tear the school apart if she’s here. She could be in the healers’ center again.
My pace quickens as we leave Taeolyn, heading straight for the launch pad.
The transport bay comes into view, and one by one, I count the ships docked and ready for cleaning.
I know Raea has been assigned to transport five, which is located at the end of the long pad.
My heart races as I sprint down the hallway, urgency fueling my every step.
There is an oppressive silence that blankets the launch area. The Sky Division’s launch pad remains unlit, everything shut down for the day as we all recover. As I approach Launchpad Five, dread uncoils in my chest—it’s completely empty.
My instinct drives me toward the control tower, where they’ll hopefully have answers. My heart pounds in my chest as I storm up the six levels, Kellan trailing anxiously behind me.
“You can’t come up here,” the guard stationed at the entrance warns me. I know I could easily shove him aside without a second thought.
“Call Chancellor Xara,” I demand, brushing past him without waiting for a response.
His sigh of resignation accompanies my ascension as he reluctantly pages the Chancellor.
I don’t bother knocking when I reach the control room, finding only one tower controller, sitting casually, halfway through a sandwich on the opposite side of the room.
He doesn’t see me, and I don’t bother wasting my time striking up a conversation.
I head straight for the console and pull up the transport log, scanning the data relayed from her ship.
There’s no current flight signal, and their last known location was Cidal.
The knot in my chest tightens as images of what could have gone wrong flash through my mind. Perhaps they faced mechanical failure, though surely they would have called for help if that had been the case.
“Prince Anders,” a voice interrupts my spiraling thoughts. It’s Paulson, the tower control operator, his brow furrowed as he approaches me, still wiping his mouth. For some damn reason, the sight irritates me. We have a missing transport, and he’s just in here enjoying his damn lunch.
“It’s an emergency,” I reply, not caring much about my flippant tone. Much to my surprise, instead of taking the controls, he pulls up a seat next to me. I can sense his gaze studying me, weighing his options.
“Alright, what are you looking for?” he finally asks.
“Princess Raea Tierson’s transport never landed,” I explain, my words tumbling out in a rush.
“There’s no signal.” Paulson inhales sharply, a flicker of concern crossing his face as he turns in his seat to page Professor Brendn.
I quickly find the tower number for Cidal and initiate a satellite communication.
After a few agonizing minutes, the response crackles over the intercom. “This is Tower Twelve, Cidal,” the voice on the other end states, echoing through the room.
“This is Drithm Academy Control.” I force myself into that steady calm required of a prince, of a king. “We are looking for an academy transport—number five.”
Silence descends upon the room, every ear tuned to the transmission as we await news.
“Copy that. Transport five was here last night,” the tower operator continues, each word feeling like a blow. “They launched after Private Johanson gave them their token.”
A chill runs down my spine. The transports are equipped with a fail-safe beacon; we should be able to locate them anywhere in the system, and yet…
“Thank you, Tower Twelve,” I respond, the words feeling hollow. Just then, the doors to the control room swing open, and Chancellor Xara strides in, flanked by Professor Brendn.
“What the hell is going on?” Chancellor Xara demands.
I stand quickly, noticing the pale, strained expressions on everyone’s faces. Beside me, Kellan’s composure is slipping.
My hands curl into fists as I say, “Chancellor, Transport Five, Princess Raea’s transport, went missing sometime last night.
Her last known location was Cidal. We spoke with the control tower, and they confirmed that the launch went smoothly.
But now, we,” I shoot Paulson a cold look, letting my barely-checked anger at him show just a bit, “can’t track them.
” The gravity of the situation sinks in, and everyone’s faces morph with horror.
I grind my molars as thoughts race through my mind. The first thought is that their transport could have exploded mid-air, or they could have been sucked into the Drennik Straights, an expanse infamous for lethal radiation levels.
Chancellor Xara’s eyes widen momentarily in shock, but she swiftly masks it, pivoting her attention to Paulson as if searching for someone to blame.
If I weren’t so tired and sick with worry, I might have let a smug smile pull at my lips, but right now, I just don’t care.
“Why didn’t you report a missing transport immediately?
” she demands urgently, using her authoritative voice. Paulson blanches and cowers.
“Step aside,” Professor Brendn interjects, addressing Paulson with a commanding tone. He strides forward, fingers moving over the control screen as he inputs a password.
Instantly, the room dims, cloaking us in shadows and casting a projection of the entire system around us.
Raea’s image flickers to life at the bottom of the display, accompanied by Trysten, Tate, and Ciara’s faces.
To my relief, their heartbeats pulse steadily beside their photos.
They’re alive. A wave of emotion washes over me as I gaze at her photo and Trysten’s.
Thank fuck.
“Interesting,” Professor Brendn murmurs, making his way through the holographic projection, manipulating the displayed planets with practiced ease to examine various sectors more closely. “I can’t seem to locate them. They all had their trackers on, yes?” He throws me a questioning glance.
I nod in affirmation, recalling how Raea had played with the ring on her finger, stealing little glances as I pretended not to notice each of her moves.
Raea has so thoroughly gotten under my skin that I swear, my eyes find her before I even have a chance to consciously catch up.
I notice everywhere she is, and everywhere she isn’t.
It’s not just the Lumos Bond and the wave of translucent colors that seem to wrap around us—it’s something else.
Something deeper. I find that the only time I feel like myself lately is in her presence.
I love teasing her, getting under her skin.
She makes it so damn easy. But the way she looks at me, her glittering green eyes heat with a fire that only urges me on.
Chancellor Xara gasps. “Explain yourself, Professor,” she commands.
It’s rare to witness the Chancellor lose control. As long as I’ve known her, she’s built a hard wall of adamant between her emotions and who she presents herself as. I can see her jaw tightening, her eyes narrowing as she fixes an intense glare on Professor Brendn.