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RAEKON

P yke and I step into the observation lounge, the hum of the forcefields beyond the glass a constant reminder of where we are.

The ocean presses in on all sides, a dark, endless void that would swallow us whole if not for the sheer will of Veritas engineering.

I’m pacing before I even realize it, my scales bristling under my tailored suit.

Pyke, ever the calm center of the storm, leans against the glass, arms crossed, watching me with that infuriatingly neutral expression.

“You didn’t tell me,” I snap, my voice cutting through the low hum of the room. “You didn’t even give me a heads-up. You just brought her in and tossed her to Winn like she was some lab rat.”

Pyke’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Would you have let me test her if I’d asked?”

“That’s not the point,” I growl, stopping in front of him. My claws flex, itching to tear into something. “You don’t get to make decisions about her without me. Not her. Not Willow.”

“You’re too close to this, Raekon.” His tone is calm, but there’s an edge to it, a warning. “Too invested. I couldn’t risk you sabotaging the results.”

“Sabotage?” My laugh is sharp, bitter. “You think I’d sabotage her? I’m trying to protect her. Veritas doesn’t have the best track record with psykers, Pyke. Or have you forgotten what happened to the last one?”

His jaw tightens, and, I think I’ve struck a nerve. But then he straightens, his posture rigid. “That was thirty years ago. We’ve learned. Winn’s research is solid. We can do this safely.”

“Safely?” I step closer, my shadow engulfing him. “You think you can control this? She’s not just some random human you pulled off the street. She’s… important.”

Pyke’s eyes narrow, and for the first time, I see a flicker of something—doubt, maybe, or guilt. He looks away, out at the endless black of the ocean. “There’s more to this than you know.”

I freeze, my senses sharpening. “What are you not telling me?”

He hesitates, then turns and walks away without a word. My claws dig into my palms, the sting grounding me. “Pyke. Don’t you walk away from me.”

He stops at the door, his back to me. “Follow me.”

I don’t move. “Not until you start talking.”

He glances over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. “You want answers? Then follow.”

I’m torn between the urge to strangle him and the need to know what he’s hiding. In the end, curiosity wins. I stride after him, my steps heavy, my mind racing. Whatever’s going on, it’s bigger than Willow. Bigger than me. And I don’t like it one bit.

Pyke leads me down a narrow corridor, the lights dimming as we go. The air grows colder, the hum of the base fading into silence. My scales tighten against the chill, my instincts screaming that we’re heading somewhere I’m not supposed to be.

“Where are we going?” I demand.

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he stops in front of a door I’ve never seen before, its surface etched with symbols I don’t recognize. He presses his hand to a hidden panel, and the door hisses open, revealing a room bathed in soft, blue light.

Inside, the walls are lined with screens, each displaying data streams in alien languages. In the center of the room lies a cryo-chamber, and inside is something I would have preferred to forget.

The cryo-chamber hums, its glass dome reflecting a sickly greenish light across the floor.

Inside, Malkus floats—an obscene, twisted thing curled in stasis.

His shell pulses like an exposed heart, wrinkled brain matter throbbing with stolen knowledge.

The sight hits me like a plasma round to the gut.

"I thought we incinerated this monstrosity," I snarl, my voice scraping raw.

Pyke’s expression doesn’t flicker. "He has information on a Grolgath human trafficking ring—locations, routes, buyers. Everything we need to dismantle it. Conventional methods got us nothing."

"So you kept him?" My claws gouge into my palms. "After what he did, after the lives he took?—"

"Because of what he did." Pyke steps closer, his words measured. "We have protocols now. Containment. Safeguards."

I snort. "Bullshit. You think your protocols can cage that?" I jerk my chin toward Malkus. "I was there when he tore through the extraction team. You weren’t."

Pyke’s jaw tightens. "Which is why I’m not suggesting we wake him."

The quiet dread in his tone sets off alarms. I don’t want to ask. But I do. "Then what are you suggesting?"

He exhales. "We don’t need him awake. We just need someone to dive in and extract the data."

For a second, the room tilts. I’ve misheard. I have to have. "You can’t mean Willow."

"The psycho-dive is the only way?—"

"No." The word tears out of me, sharp as shattered glass. "You send her into that thing’s mind, and it eats her alive. You understand? Not a chance. Not her."

Pyke’s gaze doesn’t waver. "She’s stronger than you think."

"Strength doesn’t fucking matter against a krither!" My fist slams into the nearest console, sparks flying. The room smells of scorched metal now, ozone and anger. "Malkus isn’t just dangerous—he’s rotten . His dementia makes his mind a labyrinth of traps. She’s untrained?—"

"And you think I’d throw her in blind?" Pyke cuts in, acidic. "Winn’s built fail-safes. Pulse tethers to pull her out if her vitals drop. A direct neural feed so we can monitor?—"

"Fail-safes?" I’m laughing now, a jagged, ugly sound. "You think a tether stops a krither from shredding a psyche? You weren’t there for Kael. You didn’t hear his screams when Malkus got inside his—" I choke it off before I vomit.

Pyke moves, sudden, gripping my shoulder. "I’m not dismissing the risk. But this ring? They’re abducting kids, Raekon. Torturing them into sleeper agents. Every day we wait, more lives burn."

My claws flick out. Just once. "Then wake Malkus and force the answers out of him."

His grip tightens. "You know damn well that’s worse."

Silence. He’s right—awakening Malkus guarantees slaughter. But so does sending Willow.

Pyke exhales. "It’s not your call."

I go still. "What?"

"Winn’s already briefing her." He steps back, merciless. "The decision will be hers."

“Willow is mine ,” I snarl, the words tearing out of me like a primal roar. My claws flex, itching to sink into something—anything—to release the storm boiling in my chest. “You have no right to turn her into your instrument.”

Pyke doesn’t flinch. He never does. Instead, his brow ridges lift, his expression a mix of irritation and something far more dangerous: pity.

“And you have no right to keep her in a gilded cage like some pet canary,” he snaps back, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

“You brought Willow into Veritas, Raekon. I told you to train her. I never ordered you to fall in love with her.”

The accusation slams into me like a gravity pulse. My jaw tightens, my throat locking up as I try to deny it—because it’s absurd, isn’t it? Vakutan don’t love. Not like humans do. Not with their messy, fragile hearts. But the words don’t come. My silence is damning.

Pyke’s eyes narrow, his lips curling into a grim smile. “I see. So it’s worse than I thought. Is she your jalshagar ?”

The word hangs in the air like a detonator waiting to go off. My scales bristle, my chest tightening. “I don’t know,” I admit, the words grinding out like gravel. “But I suspect she might be.”

Pyke exhales sharply, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Then this will be even harder for you to do.” His voice is softer now, but no less commanding.

“Raekon, I’m ordering you to convince Willow to undertake this mission.

If she doesn’t, there’s no telling how many more humans will suffer—or how much damage will be done to the sacred timeline. ”

The weight of his words presses down on me, but I shove it aside. “No,” I growl, feral. “I won’t do it. I won’t let her?—”

“You don’t get to let her do anything!” Pyke’s roar cuts me off, his eyes blazing with a fury I haven’t seen in years.

“She’s not your pet, Raekon. She’s not your possession.

She’s a woman—a human—with her own mind, her own choices.

And if you care about her as much as you claim, you’ll respect that. ”

I step back, his words hitting like a plasma round to the gut. My claws dig into my palms, the sting grounding me. “You don’t understand,” I growl. “Malkus isn’t just dangerous—he’s insane. His mind is a labyrinth of traps. Even with fail-safes, the risk?—”

“Is worth taking,” Pyke interrupts, his tone final.

“The Grolgath are abducting children, Raekon. Turning them into sleeper agents. Every day we wait, more lives are destroyed. Willow is the only psyker we have who stands a chance of surviving the dive. And if you don’t convince her to do it, I’ll have no choice but to wake Malkus. You know what that means.”

I do. The thought alone makes my scales crawl. Waking Malkus would be a massacre. But sending Willow into his mind? That’s a death sentence. And I can’t—I won’t —condemn her to that.

Without another word, I turn on my heel and storm out of the room.

My claws scrape against the walls as I stride down the corridor, my mind racing.

I need to find Willow. I need to get her out of here—away from Pyke, away from Veritas, away from the damn war.

She doesn’t belong in this. She never did.

I see Willow stride out of Pyke’s office, Winn trailing behind her like an overeager shadow. Her red hair catches the dim light of the base, and for a moment, the sight of her knocks the wind out of me. But then I remember why she’s here, what Pyke’s asking of her, and my scales bristle.

I cross the corridor in three strides, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the hangar bay. “We’re leaving,” I growl.

She digs her heels in almost instantly. “Raekon! What?—?”

I stop, turning to face her. Behind her, the thick glass wall reveals the endless black of the ocean, fish darting past in flashes of silver and blue. Her green eyes lock onto mine, and I can already see the defiance brewing there.

“Drop the act. You know what Pyke’s planning,” I snap. “And it’s not happening.”

She yanks her hand free, crossing her arms over her chest. “And you think dragging me out of here is going to solve anything?”

“Yes.” I step closer, looming over her. “Because you don’t understand what you’re getting into. Psycho-diving into Malkus’s mind isn’t like fixing a spreadsheet.”

“I’m not an idiot,” she fires back, chin lifting. “I know it’s dangerous. But those kids—Raekon, they’re being sold . Tortured. Someone has to help them, and I’m the only psyker Veritas has.”

“You’re not ready for this,” I snarl. “Malkus isn’t just dangerous—he’s insane . His mind is a labyrinth of traps, and you’d be walking in blind. I won’t let you?—”

“You won’t let me?” Her voice cuts through the corridor like a blade, sharp and unyielding.

“Raekon, you’re my boss, my mentor, and my Dom—and you’re great at all of those things.

But never forget that I choose to submit to your authority.

This time, I’m choosing to do this because it needs to be done. ”

I freeze, my claws flexing at my sides. She’s standing there, five-foot-nothing of fire and fury, and I’m the one who feels small. Her words hit me like a plasma blast, and I’m speechless.

“You don’t understand,” I finally manage, my voice rough. “Malkus will tear you apart.”

“Then I’ll fight back,” she says, her gaze unwavering. “I’m not helpless, Raekon. And I’m not scared.”

“You should be,” I growl, my chest tightening. “Because I am.”

The admission slips out before I can stop it, and her expression softens. She steps closer, her hand brushing my arm. “I know you’re worried. But I can do this. Trust me.”

I exhale sharply, my scales prickling. “Fine. I won’t stop you.”

Her eyes widen. “Really?”

“Really.” I lean down, catching her lips in a kiss that’s equal parts possessive and desperate. She melts into me for a moment, her hands curling against my chest. Then I pull away, turning on my heel before she can see the storm in my eyes.

“Raekon?” she calls after me.

I don’t answer. Let her think I’m walking away in defeat. Let her think I’ve finally accepted her decision. Because I haven’t. If she’s going to dive into Malkus’s mind, she’ll find nothing but a smoking ruin when she gets there—because I’m going to kill the bastard first.