Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Images flooded his mind. He was here with Arin, surrounded by dead humans, with her gentle fingers threading through his hair, but he was also back out on the Vaal, with his people.
He was Rykal Sarakunin, of the Aikun tribe, and he’d been stolen.
He’d loved to hunt. Amongst the boys his age, he’d been one of the fastest and most agile, fearlessly slipping into the frigid black depths of the Sleeping Ocean to hunt lamperk when all the other children had been too afraid.
He’d been wild, and he’d been free.
He’d been an expert at catching the vicious winged kuthlek, which were particularly delicious when roasted, and he’d known how to skillfully avoid the venomous fangs of a female targuk.
His hair had grown long and wild, and his mother had taken great pleasure in fashioning it into intricate braids.
And when the hunt had been over, he would retreat to his cozy nook inside the network of caves that ran deep underneath the black mountain, nestling in the furs of a giant szkazajik he’d slain.
His mother would sing him songs in the Old Tongue, ancient reminders of a time when the Great Star had shone upon their land, the skies had been colored blue, and the ice they walked upon now had been water.
Mother. He remembered her name, but it was too painful for him to even think it. Her name was sacred.
He’d lost her that day, when Imperial Forces had raided Sennara, the Black Mountain, and stolen Rykal and his age-mates.
They’d been shipped off to the planet Xar, and out of the thousands who had been sent there, only ten had survived.
The First Division.
The Empire had created ten perfect soldiers, but it had cost the blood of thousands.
They had stolen their memories. At first, their loyalty had been to the Empire, and they had been the perfect tools, finely honed and vicious in every way.
But slowly, their personalities had emerged, fragments of memory had returned, and they had all decided their true loyalties lay with the general, especially once Emperor Ilhan descended into madness.
The Empire had forged ten perfect weapons, but the weapons were strongest when they worked together, and the Empire didn’t exactly wield them anymore.
Rykal decided there and then that he would no longer serve the Empire. He would not be a tool of the mad empress and her corruption. He was loyal only to his general, his brothers, and now, his mate.
To her above all others.
“Rykal,” Arin whispered, stroking his hair as he leaned into her, wrapping his arms around her slender waist, pressing his cheek against her belly, “it’s okay.”
“Yeah.” He placed his hand over hers, closing his eyes. Something must have happened to his brain as the nanites inside his body furiously tried to protect and repair it after the blast. His memories had come back all at once, undoing all the Empire’s work.
It would take him a long time to dissect and fully understand those stolen memories, and even longer to piece them together correctly, but it didn’t matter.
He had her now, a mate to fill the void within him. He didn’t care that they were from different worlds. He didn’t care that the Empire was the enemy of her people.
She made him complete again, and his loyalty was with her now, above all else.