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Story: Star Fated Alpha

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flicker of spectral violet and gold in the shape of a wolf.

Its glowing form prowled the edges of the room, unseen by Eugene,

Her breath caught, her heart clenching with emotion and sorrow.

She recognized the wraith from her dreams, now also, unmistakably Xander’s Lycan spirit.

She realized he’d been with her since they left Earth, as tears poured down her face.

His soul made manifest had come for her; despite her cautionary words to her lover, his spirit refused to let her suffer.

He glimmered closer to her and then hunched over, washing her in its aetheric power, giving her immediate relief from her aches and pain.

She closed her eyes as his energy glided over her, calming her.

Eventually, she opened them, her gaze locking with the shimmering beast.

‘I’m holding on. You have to go back.’

The wolf hesitated, muzzle dipping.

‘He needs you more than I do right now. He has to lead the crew. Rescue me when it’s time.’

She pressed her fingers to its spectral heart, touched its aetheric heartbeat, and drew strength from it.

Then it vanished like mist in the wind, returning to the man she adored.

26

The Wolf And The Lamb

XANDER

The four Signet ships surged from the docking cradles of theSombralike avenging wraiths, sleek and armed to the teeth.

Xander helmed theÚltima Xhimself, every nerve in his body tuned to a single, scorching frequency: Savvine.

Beside him sat Miral, silent but suited and strapped in.

Her fingers danced over her interface, taking precise readings of the vacuum and energy signatures around them.

Boaz, Kaal, and Santi flew flank in their Corvettes alongside theÚltima X, maintaining a tight formation as they veered into the shadows of asteroid drifts and starlight.

They ghosted toward the coordinates Eugene had provided in a recent holo-transmission, tagged with a countdown Xander thought unnecessary.

‘Contact. Dead ahead,’ Miral muttered, her voice crackling through the comms.

Xander glanced up, jaw tightening.

Eugene’s so-called pleasure yacht hung in space, a grotesque fusion of nouveau-empire aesthetic and over-the-top decadence.

It was coated in burnished gold-plated alloys with fluted ridges and carved detailing like an interstellar brothel.

Lights flickered in shifting neon patterns along its hull.

Xander’s knuckles went white on the controls.

All four Signet Corvettes slowed to a halt.

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