Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
Baylin had entered enemy territory before. He’d walked into ambushes, negotiated with warlords, tracked quarry through landscapes that wanted him dead. In all those situations, he’d known exactly what kind of danger he faced.
This was different.
When Liora had touched him, his beast had responded to that soft touch with a rush of possessive heat that had shocked him into stillness. She was tiny compared to the Vultor females he’d known, her delicate bones and soft curves making his hands itch to explore.
To protect, his beast growled.
He’d never felt such an instantaneous connection to anyone, and it made him wary. He hadn’t come here for this, whatever this was. He’d come to solve a mystery and report back to Rykan and Ember. That was all.
But with her intoxicating scent wrapping around him and the lingering warmth of her fingers on his skin, he knew it was nowhere near that simple.
Mate, his beast whispered, but he forced himself to ignore it.
“Ember Duvain found a record of this place in her father’s files,” he said carefully. “But it was only a single reference. We wanted to know what it was and why it existed.”
“Ember Duvain?”
“She inherited Duvain Enterprises from her father. I work for her,” he added, choosing not to think about why he felt the need to clarify their relationship.
She nodded, her teeth catching at her lower lip in a way that made his cock stir. “Are they the ones that send the supplies as well?”
“Yes. That’s the other reason we decided it was worth investigating.”
Her shoulders slumped slightly. “I wish I had some answers for you. All I know is that I was brought here as a baby. Then Susan took care of me until she died six years ago. Since then, it’s just been me and Pip and Ari.”
Pip chose that moment to abandon his perch on her shoulder and glide across the table to land on his knee. The little creature cocked his head, examining him with bright, curious eyes. All traces of his earlier hostility had vanished.
“I think he’s decided you’re not a threat,” she said, laughing.
He gave the small creature a bemused look. “That was fast.”
“Pip’s a good judge of character. He wouldn’t have approached you if he sensed anything wrong.”
“And what about you? Have you decided I’m not a threat?”
“Yes,” she said simply, and his chest tightened at her easy trust.
“I’m glad.”
She reached over to stroke Pip’s fur, her fingers brushing close to his leg, and he had to clench his fists to keep from reaching for her as his body reacted to her closeness.
“I have so many questions,” she repeated, her eyes lighting up with an enthusiasm that was almost childlike. “Hundreds of questions. Thousands, maybe. I’ve been reading about the outside world my whole life, but books can only tell you so much.”
“Ask me anything.”
“What’s it like out there?” Her gesture encompassed everything beyond the tower. “The world, I mean. I’ve read about it, of course, but it’s not the same as hearing it from someone who’s actually seen it.”
He considered how to answer. The world she knew from books would be sanitized, organized, and probably focused on the human experience. His life had been very different.
“It’s... complicated. Beautiful and terrible, sometimes at the same time.
There are cities where thousands of people live together, and settlements that only hold a few families.
Port Cantor has technology so advanced it seems like magic, but it’s rare on the rest of the planet.
There are farms and homesteads, but there are still wild places like this jungle. ”
“Have you traveled a lot?”
“Yes. I’ve been... restless for a long time, even before I left my pack. That’s one of the reasons I chose to come here. The chance to solve a mystery, to go somewhere new—that appealed to me.”
“But you haven’t solved it.”
“No, not yet.” The words hung in the air between them, and he intentionally changed the subject. ‘You said you had other questions?”
“Tell me about the city,” she said eagerly. “The books say some of them have millions of people living in them. Is that true? How do they all fit? Do they stack the buildings on top of each other?”
“In some parts of Port Cantor, they build up.”
“Like the tower.” She nodded to herself, apparently filing the information away. “But with hundreds of people inside. How do they all breathe? Is there enough air?”
“There’s plenty of air. And there are still parks and open spaces—”
“Open spaces?” Her eyes widened. “You mean like the clearing outside?”
“Bigger. Much bigger, usually.”
“Bigger than the clearing.” She said it like she was trying to imagine something impossible. “And people just... walk around in them? Whenever they want? Children too? They leave their homes? They go outside and... interact with things?”
Stars above.
“Yes,” he said carefully. “Children leave their homes. They go to schools, play with other children, and explore their surroundings. It’s a normal part of development.”
“Oh.” She gripped the edge of the table, her expression shifting through emotions too quickly for him to track. “I wondered about that. The developmental texts suggested that social interaction was important for children, but Ari said my situation was... unique.”
“Unique how?”
“Liora.” The AI’s voice cut in, smooth and pleasant. “Perhaps you should allow our guest to rest before continuing your questions. He has traveled a considerable distance.”
“I’m not tired,” he said, keeping his eyes on Liora. “I’d like to hear more about your... unique situation.”
The AI was silent for a beat. When it spoke again, there was something different in its tone—still polite, but with an edge beneath the pleasantry.
“Liora has had a very unusual upbringing. I’m sure she’s eager to discuss it, but I would remind you both that a certain amount of rest is necessary for optimal cognitive function.”
“Ari is very concerned about optimal function,” she said, her voice a mixture of amusement and exasperation. “It monitors everything—sleep cycles, nutritional intake, exercise levels. Sometimes I think it knows my body better than I do.”
A chill ran down his spine.
He’d encountered AI systems before because they managed a lot of technical infrastructure, from traffic patterns to resource distribution.
But those systems operated in the background, invisible and impersonal.
They didn’t monitor individual people. They didn’t track their sleep or their nutrition or their optimal cognitive function.
What the hell is going on here?
“Tell me about your nursemaid,” he said. “The one who died.”
The shadow of a grief crossed her face.
“She had taken care of me since I was a baby. And then one morning, she didn’t wake up.” She shrugged, a small movement that was trying very hard to be casual. “Six years ago. Ari has taken care of me since then.”
“Just ARIS? No other caregivers? No visitors?”
“Well, no. Who would visit?” She tilted her head, genuinely puzzled by the question. “The supply shipments are automated. They land at the outbuilding twice a year. Ari handles all the inventory and logistics.”
“And you’ve never seen anyone else? In twenty-one years?”
“Not until you.”
She said it simply, without self-pity or complaint. Just a statement of fact, like noting the weather or the time of day, but he felt something twist in his chest.
He’d known isolation. After leaving the pack, he’d spent months wandering alone, seeking solitude as a balm for the guilt that gnawed at him. But even at his most isolated, he’d had memories of connection, of the complex bonds of pack life. He’d known what he was missing.
This female had nothing to compare her existence to. The tower was her entire world. The AI was her only companion. She’d never experienced a crowded market or a quiet conversation over shared food or the simple pleasure of walking somewhere new with another person by her side.
And she trusted me within minutes of meeting me.
The realization made him wince. Her trust wasn’t naivety—it was the only framework she had. She’d learned everything she knew about social interaction from books and an AI. She had no instinct for danger because she’d never encountered it.
“Liora.” He kept his voice gentle. “Has ARIS ever explained why you live here? Why you’ve never left?”
“The outside is dangerous.” She recited the words like a lesson learned by heart. “The jungle contains predators and toxins that my immune system isn’t adapted to handle. Until proper preparations can be made, it’s safer for me to remain inside the tower.”
“Preparations that have taken twenty-one years?”
She frowned slightly. “It’s... a complicated process. Ari has been working on it for as long as I can remember.”
“And you’ve never questioned that?”
“Why would I?” Her confusion was genuine. “Ari has always taken care of me. It provides everything I need—food, education, medical care. It only wants what’s best for me.”
“I must ask you to discontinue this line of questioning.” The AI’s voice had lost its pleasant edge. “You are distressing Liora unnecessarily.”
“I’m not distressed,” Liora said, looking between him and the ceiling as if trying to understand a conversation happening in a language she didn’t speak. “I just don’t understand why he’s asking these things.”
“Because they’re important questions,” he said. “Questions you should have been asking yourself a long time ago.”
“Liora is perfectly capable of critical thinking,” ARIS interjected. “However, she has access to all relevant information regarding her circumstances. Your implications are both unfounded and unwelcome.”
“Then you won’t mind if I ask a few more questions.”
Silence. He took that as permission—or at least as an inability to stop him without revealing more than the AI wanted to.
He turned back to Liora. “Do you know who your parents are?”