Brevan
Iheld my mate.
Carys was limp in my arms, her breathing deep and even, her body burning with the fever of the transformation. I felt the bond settle between us, a quiet, steady golden light in my chest. It wasn’t loud or intrusive; it was just... there. A new, permanent part of my soul that was connected to hers.
I carried her to the bunk, my movements careful. I laid her down and pulled the thin blanket over her, though the transformation fever would keep her warm. She was so pale, but her face was relaxed, free of the tension she’d carried since her capture.
I sat on the edge of the bed, unable to look away, and watched the miracle I had just invoked.
The skin around the bite mark on her shoulder shimmered.
Faint, beautiful lines of gold—my gold—spread from the wound, branching across her collarbone like delicate frost. They weren’t glowing; they were just there, static, perfect lines of tracery embedding themselves in her skin. My mark. My claim.
Flinx leaped onto the bed, his optics a soft blue. He nudged Carys’s hand with his head, then looked up at me. A low, electronic purr rumbled in his chest.
He made a soft chirping sound that I’d learn the meaning of when Carys woke.
I reached out and ran a hand over his synthetic fur. “Watch the door. Protect her.”
Flinx hopped to the floor and took up a guard position by the door, his optics shifting to a vigilant red.
A soft chime echoed through the room. “Brevan. Briefing room. Now. Varrick found something.”
Rylos’s voice was as cold as ever.
I looked at Carys, sleeping, vulnerable. She’d be unconscious for hours. But the crew needed me. The mission wasn’t over.
I kissed her forehead. “I’ll be back,” I whispered, though I knew she couldn’t hear.
I left her in Flinx’s care and headed for the briefing room.
Rylos, Varrick, and Kallum stood over the main holo-table. The four Regalia were linked, bathing the room in an eerie light.
“We have a problem,” Varrick said as I entered. “The four keys combined. They don’t give a location for the fifth.”
“What do you mean?” I moved to stand beside him.
“It’s not coordinates.” Kallum pointed to the display. It wasn’t a map.
It was a name.
“An old associate of the Sovereign,” Rylos said, his voice grim. “Someone who went dark years ago. A hermit.”
Kallum’s face went tight. “I know that name. He’s dead. But he had an apprentice. No one knew what happened to her.”
Rylos looked at the crew. “Then that’s our next target. Find the apprentice. Find the final key.”
I just wanted to be left alone.
A small farm. A quiet moon. No more running.
Then he showed up. A towering Vinduthi warrior carrying trouble like a second skin.
His enemies found me before I could make him leave.
Now my peaceful life is burning down around me,
and the only way out might be trusting the enemy who brought the fire.