45. CHAPTER 45
Zayne
The Capital
Kallum, Ciondo
Zayne waited with Kira in the largest office of his parents' home, time ticking away until she'd see her mother again.
This room didn't house the decorations the rest of the house boasted, instead only featuring the bare necessities.
A conference table, chairs, a screen on the far wall, and two filing cabinets.
No pictures on the walls. Father didn't like distractions while he worked.
Kira paced the room with the cat in her arms. “I don't know what to do, Pumpkin.”
Why did Kira need to be so brave? He wished she were a coward, even if her courage first drew him to her. All she needed to do was say a few words. Lie to her mom and make the Phaedra happy.
The emperor rarely lost, but the failures lately piled up because of them. He needed a harmless win today, or Zayne wasn't sure what he'd do.
A message buzzed on his wrist, and he looked down, body tensing. “They're on their way.”
Kira froze and looked at him, eyes pleading.
“Just say what my father tells you to say. It's harmless.”
“I will if I can.” The way she stared at him while clinging to that white cat sent terror crackling like lightning through him.
“What does that mean? Promise me,” he said.
But she didn't respond, and it was already too late. The door opened to his father and brother.
“Ms. Stiles.” The High General looked down at the cat. “I suppose there's no harm in you keeping that.”
Something flickered in her eyes, and she released the cat. “Go, Pumpkin.”
Her white tail raised on her way out the door.
“Zayne briefed you on your role?” His father asked.
“I know what to say.”
“Good. I expect you to stick to the script. Sit here.” He pulled out the chair beside him.
Kira did as asked, at least for now, and Zayne stood against the wall, directly across the room from Luke.
“I'm sure you're very excited to see your mother again,” Father said.
Tears slid down her cheeks while she nodded, eyes on the large screen in the middle of the table.
Several seconds crawled by until the screen lit with Becka Rogers, her short hair the orange hue that came from red hair fading into blonde and gray.
When the two women saw each other, they both cried out.
Though there was no one else on the screen, there would be plenty of United soldiers in the room with her.
Kira's shoulders shook with tears, and she gripped the edge of the table. “Mom.”
Becka was crying too hard to speak for a few seconds. “Kira. Kira, there you are. Oh, Kira.” She wiped her light green eyes, looking desperate for nothing to impede her view. “My little girl.”
They'd missed each other for so many years.
Kira leaned forward to get closer. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. What about you?”
“I'm okay too. I never thought I'd see you again.”
Becka's head dropped for a moment, and she raised it back up, smiling through the tears. “I always knew I'd see you again, baby.”
“I love you, Mom.”
Becka covered a sob and nodded. “Me too. I never stopped trying to get to you.”
“I heard. You have to take care of yourself. You can't spend all day worrying about me, okay?”
“You grew up.” Becka's fingers touched the screen. “I missed it all.”
“I—”
“We have full control of communications.” Luke's sharp stare shifted from his phone to Father.
His interruption sucked the air out of Zayne's lungs in a violent shudder, like a hole ripping into the side of an airplane mid-flight.
How? Reinard never failed at something like this.
Chills cut across the back of Zayne's arms.
Father ripped Kira's head back by a handful of hair. She let out a cry, clawing at his wrist to escape.
The High General held steadfast, his drawn expression merciless and uncaring.
Zayne's hands stiffened, desperate to pry his father away from Kira. Scenarios rapidly fired through his mind while he fought to keep his body in place, playing out every option to help her and keep Becka from talking.
United soldiers closed in on Becka. “Don't touch her!” A hand clamped over her mouth and muffled her next words.
One of the United officers blocked the screen and shouted. “Turn it off.”
“We can't,” came another voice. “What do we do about the girl?”
“The locations,” his father said. A yank, and he ripped a scream from Kira, her face contorting in pain. In a deep and quaking voice, he said, “Now.”
The soldier covering Becka's mouth cursed and yanked a bloody hand away.
Within the next few seconds, the fate of all those Followers may be sealed. He could only see and hear Kira, only think of her, but there were so many lives at stake. Reinard would be fighting back for control, as well as the United, but they may not have that long.
Zayne needed to act now.
Tears streamed down Becka's face, and she managed one word before a soldier clamped her mouth shut again. “Please!”
United officers dragged her off the screen, but Zayne could still hear her struggling, which meant she could hear Kira.
Now his father ripped the blade from his side and pressed it to Kira's throat, his steely demeanor unwavering. “My knife is on her. I'll give you ten seconds.”
“It's—” Muffled screaming. “The capital—”
Fuck. Fuck.
Zayne's body started to move when he felt the tingle of alarm and looked up to see that his brother didn't watch Kira or Becka, but him. A determined stare remained locked on him.
“What are our orders?” a soldier said. “Break the equipment, or let her speak?”
Kira struggled in a breath against the knife and the strain of his father jerking her hair, but she spoke clearly. “Don't say a word, Mom.”
“Kira,” Zayne said, full panic gripping his chest.
“Keep your mouth shut,” she said. “I'll never forgive—”
The High General ripped her back so hard she stumbled back and fell, caught by the fierce grip on her hair. The pained scream tore Zayne apart.
He didn't know how to get Kira out of here once he moved, but if he didn't do something now, then it was all over. The moment he rushed his father, his brother would act, and he had to cover Kira.
Soldiers were yelling. “He's going to kill the prisoner.”
In the chaos, Becka must have managed to free her jaw, because her voice rang out. “12—”
“Don't—” Kira barely managed the word before another twist of her hair stole her voice away. Her knees buckled, and she caught herself on the table.
Luke glanced at Kira, and Zayne shifted his hand for his knife, leaning his weight against his right leg to lunge forward.
“60,” came Becka's voice.
The screen went black.
Everyone froze.
Silence.
Not even the sound of breathing.
“Did we just…” Luke's voice trailed off, his attention on his phone. “Shit.”
Their father growled low with Kira's hair still wrapped around his hand. “We won't get the signal back. That was our one chance.” A dangerous quiet came over him, and he lowered the knife from Kira's throat, looking even more threatening than before despite putting away the weapon.
“Look at what you've done. The Phaedra is already furious.” Each word dripped with disgust. “You don't understand the wrath you just brought upon yourself.”
“I won't let you kill them.” Kira whimpered at another yank, but she didn't relent. “Do what you will.”
“Stupid girl.”
“Father,” Zayne said, skin tingling painfully with desperation.
The High General released Kira. She stumbled away from him, hand coming to her head. But he only advanced toward her.
“This isn't the best way to deal with her,” Zayne said.
If his father heard him, he didn't show it. Instead, he curled his large hand into a fist.
Zayne would strike if he lifted his hand against her. “Dad.” That finally caught his attention, tearing it away from Kira to Zayne. “She'll take it harder if it's me. It's my failure.”
A moment of confusion came over Kira before she shook her head. “Wait.”
Disappointment blared from his father's voice. “You're right. She was your responsibility.”
Yes, good. Focus on Zayne. He nodded. “My failure is unacceptable.”
Snarling, his father cut a harsh look to Kira. “I hope he's right. I hope this hurts you more.”
As soon as his father shot toward him, Luke caught Kira's arm. She strained against him, voice panicked. “What are you doing?”
Seeing Luke touch her tunneled his vision, but someone needed to hold her back, away from his father.
His father closed his eyes, and when he opened them, the man who'd raised Zayne vanished. Instead, he met the stare of the High General, tasked with controlling an empire desperate to escape from the Phaedra. The man who hunted and tortured dozens of soldiers in the militia that captured Zayne.
A hard fist hooked Zayne's jaw and knocked his head to the side. Sharp pain tore through his face.
“Zayne!” Kira screamed.
Tensing, he held his footing, and braced in time for the second hit, this one to his cheek.
Hot blood washed over his tongue.
The third punch came before he registered the pain of the last. Faster than he expected.
Harder.
A blinding force slammed into his temple, knocking him back. The pain of the hits flooded him, dizziness throwing the room into a spin. He caught himself against the wall, blinking at the black dots spreading over his vision. Spit a mouthful of blood onto the floor.
Gritting his teeth as blood dripped down his chin, Zayne caught his father's eyes and willed him to pour his rage into these hits so nothing of his vengeance remained for Kira.
She hadn't stopped screaming or fighting to rip free from Luke.
His brother's good arm clamped around her middle, holding her arms down.
Sling hanging loose, he covered her mouth with the hand of the injured one.
The sight of Kira smashed against his brother's chest, tears streaming down her face, flooded his muscles with fire and all the energy he needed to rip the other man's head off his body.
A brutal punch rocked Zayne's gut while he was distracted. A grunt wrenched from his clenched teeth. Pain shot through the wound in his back, the torn muscles complaining at his torso twisting.
Good thing he'd taken so much PXI.
He struggled for his next breath.