Chapter 13 Bright
brIGHT
Bright sat cross-legged on the cold metal floor of the cell, his back pressed to the wall, staring out at nothing. His hands rested between his knees, still bound by the silver manacles that pulsed faintly every time he so much as thought about touching Burn.
Across the small cell, Burn was pacing like a caged predator, each stride sharp and rigid. His heavy boots echoed with every step, his jaw was clenched and his fists were flexing as though he wanted to punch the walls.
He’s barely holding it together, Bright thought grimly. Not that I’m doing much better.
He kept glancing toward the door where Lupin had led Noelle away. Something was gnawing at his gut—an unease that wouldn’t settle. The walls felt tighter…the air was colder.
Then Burn stopped. Mid-stride, he froze in place—his broad back tense, shoulders rigid.
“Do you feel that?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous.
Bright lifted his head sharply as the feeling of unease that had been hovering in the back of his mind bloomed into something much darker and sharper.
“I do,” he said, his heart beginning to pound. “Noelle’s in trouble.”
Burn was already moving, charging toward the barred door of the cell. Bright was on his feet in an instant, racing to join him.
The two of them grabbed the bars, rattling them violently. Sparks jumped from the cuffs at their wrists, the metal hissing with warning, but they didn’t care.
“HEY!” Burn bellowed, slamming his fists against the bars. “HEY! LET US THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!”
“We need to see our mate!” Bright shouted, gripping the door hard enough to make his wrists ache. “Let us out—NOW!”
But there was no response. Only silence… then a voice from the darkness:
“Shut the fuck up!”
Then another, softer, from further down the hall…a sobbing whisper.
“…Mama… please… Mama, come get me…”
Bright’s chest tightened.
He looked at Burn, who was still snarling, still gripping the bars like he could tear them apart through sheer force of will. But even Burn couldn’t bend the Skow alloy, though he tried with all his might.
“Fuck!” he grunted, his muscles rippling with effort. “Fuck…fuck…fuck!”
At last he stopped, panting and the hallway returned to silence except for the steady whimpering of their fellow prisoner, calling for his mother.
Then even that stopped and only their heavy breathing and the distant hum of the ship filled the space.
Bright turned and leaned back against the door, letting his head thump softly against the metal. His heart still wouldn’t stop racing because the feeling that Noelle was in danger wouldn’t leave him.
What’s happening to her? What is that little orange bastard doing to her?
There was no logical reason for the feeling—he and Burn had no Soul Bond with her, no psychic link or mating tie. But still…
He knew. Something was wrong. Noelle was in danger—horrible things might be happening to her.
And they were locked in a damn cell while they happened.
Please, he thought, clenching his eyes shut. Please, Goddess… protect her. Don’t let her be hurt.
He had never felt so helpless in his life.
And the worst part was… he was starting to realize he already loved her and there was nothing he could do to save her.