Chapter 26 #2
“That won’t be necessary.”
She touched the comm panel on the desk. “Tomas? You can come in now.”
The door slid open to reveal the elderly servant, his expression carefully neutral. Behind him, two security officers in Duvain colors waited.
“Your personal effects have been packed and are already aboard the shuttle,” she continued. “Tomas supervised the process himself to ensure nothing of value was overlooked. The shuttle will depart within the hour.”
Marina’s face went white, then red, fury and humiliation warring for dominance. “You planned this. Before the board meeting. Before I even—”
“I learned from watching you.” She rose from her chair, finally. “Preparation is everything. You taught me that.”
“You sanctimonious little bitch.”
The word cracked through the air like a whip. Marina lunged towards her, her hand raised—whether to strike or grab, she never learned, because Rykan was there between them, his massive frame blocking Marina’s path.
He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. The golden glow in his eyes said everything: Touch her and I will end you.
Marina stumbled back, real fear replacing her fury. “What—what is that creature—”
“His name is Rykan.” She moved to stand beside him, her hand resting lightly on his arm. “He’s the one who pulled me from the wreckage of the ship you destroyed. The one who kept me alive when I should have died. And he’s the reason I’m standing here now instead of scattered across the mountains.”
She let that sink in before continuing.
“This is your only chance, Aunt Marina. Take the transfer. Build something meaningful on Kepler. Or stay and face the consequences of what you’ve done.” Her voice softened slightly. “Despite everything, we are family. That’s the only reason I’m offering you this choice at all.”
Marina’s gaze flickered between her and Rykan, calculation replacing rage. She was beaten and she knew it—but Ember could see her filing this moment away, storing it for future reference. She would never stop trying to regain power.
“Fine.” The word was poison wrapped in silk. “I’ll take your exile. Your mining colony. Your generous mercy.” She straightened her spine, gathering the shreds of her dignity. “But remember this, niece. You may have won today, but empires are built over decades. And I am very, very patient.”
“I’m counting on it.” She met her aunt’s gaze steadily. “The facility on Kepler has genuine potential. If you put half the energy into developing it that you put into trying to steal what wasn’t yours, you could build something remarkable.”
Marina laughed bitterly. “You actually believe that. How precious.”
She turned and walked towards the door, pausing beside Tomas. The elderly servant met her gaze without flinching.
“I always knew you were loyal to him first,” Marina said softly. “To Alexander. Then to her. Never to me.”
“You never gave me reason to be, my lady.”
Something flickered across Marina’s face—regret, perhaps, or simply the acknowledgment of a miscalculation. Then she was gone, the security officers falling into step beside her, and the door slid shut behind them.
The silence that followed was deafening.
She stood motionless for a long moment, staring at the closed door. Then, without warning, her knees buckled.
Rykan caught her before she hit the floor, his arms strong and steady as they wrapped around her trembling body. He guided her to the small couch tucked into the corner of the office and sat with her cradled against his chest.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured into her hair. “I’ve got you.”
She pressed her face into the solid warmth of his shoulder and let the shaking take her. Not tears—she was beyond tears—but the deep, bone-rattling tremors of adrenaline finally releasing its hold.
“She tried to kill me.” The words came out muffled against his shirt. “My own aunt. My father’s sister. She tried to burn me alive and she called it ‘not personal.’”
His arms tightened around her. “She’ll never get close to you again. I’ll make certain of it.”
“I know.” She drew a shuddering breath. “I know you will.”
They sat together in the quiet office, the smart glass still opaque, the city beyond invisible. She focused on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear, letting it anchor her to the present moment.
“I wasn’t sure I could do it,” she finally admitted. “Face her. Confront her with what I knew. Part of me kept hoping she would deny it. That maybe I’d made a mistake.”
“You didn’t make a mistake.”
“No.” She pulled back enough to look at him, finding strength in the fierce protectiveness of his golden gaze. “I didn’t. And I survived. Because of you.”
His hand came up to cup her face, thumb brushing gently across her cheekbone. “You survived because you’re stronger than she ever gave you credit for. Stronger than anyone gave you credit for.” A pause. “Including yourself.”
Maybe, she thought. Maybe I am.
She leaned into his touch, drawing comfort from the simple contact. “It’s not over. You heard what she said—she’s patient. She’ll spend her years on that mining colony plotting her return.”
“Then we’ll be ready for her,” he said firmly. “We’ll watch. We’ll prepare. We won’t be caught unaware again.”
We. The word wrapped around her like a promise.
“I should check in with Tomas,” she said reluctantly. “Make sure the shuttle actually departs. Marina’s resourceful—I wouldn’t put it past her to try something even now.”
“In a moment.” He didn’t release her. “Right now, you need to breathe.”
He was right. She hated that he was right, but he was. The trembling was subsiding, replaced by a bone-deep exhaustion that made her limbs feel like they were filled with sand.
“How do you do it?” she asked. “Stay so calm when everything is falling apart?”
“Practice.” His voice was dry. “Years of practice.”
She thought about what he’d told her in the mountains—about his pack, his betrayal, his choice to walk away rather than tear everything apart fighting for what was his. He understood this moment in ways she was only beginning to grasp.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “For being here. For believing I could do this.”
“I never doubted it.”
She looked up at him, this fierce warrior who’d chosen her, who’d followed her from the mountains into a world he wasn’t part of because of her. His eyes were still golden, still bright with the beast that lurked beneath the surface, but there was tenderness there too. Protection. Love.
“I have work to do,” she said. “A company to run. A legacy to protect.”
“I know.”
“But right now…” She let her head fall against his shoulder again. “Right now, I just want to stay here. Just for a moment.”
His arms tightened around her.
“Take all the time you need.”
Outside, Port Cantor’s towers gleamed in the afternoon light, the city carrying on oblivious to the small drama that had just unfolded in this quiet office.
Somewhere below, a shuttle was lifting off, carrying Marina Duvain towards exile and an uncertain future.
The board members were probably already gathering in smaller groups, comparing notes, choosing sides.
But here, in this moment, none of that mattered.
Ember closed her eyes and let herself breathe.