Page 14

FOURTEEN

Cerani

Cerani didn’t feel different. Not in the way she’d expected. She didn’t emerge from Stavian’s passion with glowing warmth or a ring of clarity wrapped around her thoughts. She just felt…loved. Valued. Powerful. Her hands trembled when she thought about the way he’d touched her, how he loved her with such apparent ease that expressing it was as simple as breathing. It was getting easier for her. She’d told him she loved him without hesitation. She’d let herself feel it, open and full, and the words had tumbled out. She hadn’t even tried to stop them. She never would again.

But that moment was over. The time for softness was gone, buried under the pressing reality of escape and survival. Her heart still ached with the echo of it, but her fists had closed again. There was no room for tenderness in what came next. She loved him, yes. But right now, she needed to think like the female she was in the mines—scrappy, sharp, and out of time. Because reality had returned. And their past wasn’t chasing them.

It had arrived. Tell me everything.

Stavian sat up. He rested his back on the headboard, with his wings stretched out on either side. He maneuvered her so she was tucked against his side with a wing to her back. It was thick and leathery. She’d never felt so protected.

“Every cycle I continue to file reports on ore yields and track losses,” he said. “Routine. Just as I’ve always done.” His voice dropped, slower now. “That keeps Central Axis from looking too close. As long as the numbers are steady, they don’t send review teams.”

“I figured,” she said. “Miners weren’t cycled out or put offline. The medics just let me leave with you. You’ve been buying time. Planning.”

Stavian smiled—but not like he was proud. More like he was pleased she’d noticed.

“And you’ve been watching,” he said.

“Of course I’ve been watching,” she said. “I’m not going to sleepwalk through my own escape. So, go on. Tell me the rest of it.”

He hesitated. It was only a second, but she caught the flicker in his eyes. He was about to lay something out that would lock them both into a path that couldn’t be erased—one he needed her to carry as much as him. “After that tunnel collapse, the review teams will come. We need to go before they arrive.”

Of course they were coming.

Cerani tapped a finger against the edge of the table. “How long until they get here?”

“Soon,” he said. “Six cycles, maybe less.”

She heard the edge in his voice: Probably less.

She sat forward. Here was the big question. The one that had plagued her from the start. “How do we get out of here?”

He got up out of bed, walked across the room gloriously nude, and came back with a datapad. After settling beside her again, he activated the screen. At first, it was blank. Then a ship schematic glowed soft orange and silver across the display.

“I cut this device off from the Axis network,” he said. “It’s not being tracked. This is the ESS Mirka. Mid-range transport.”

She leaned in. “That’s in the docking bay now?”

“Yes. I assigned mechs to it for a full maintenance last cycle.” He rotated the schematic. “No one’s questioning it. The cargo bay can easily be retrofitted for more sleeping quarters. It has a basic shield and weapons array. It’s not fancy, but it’s fast enough and structurally sound. I can operate it myself, but I’m hoping to form a crew from miners with past ship experience.”

Cerani stared at the layout. She knew nothing about starships, but this one looked big enough. It had a long, stacked design with two cargo levels and four thrusters. Her heart thudded once. “You’re going to fly us all out from under the nose of a full Axis surveillance grid.” It wasn’t a question, but she needed him to confirm this. It sounded impossible.

“Yes,” he said.

She didn’t blink. “How many passengers can it hold?”

“Enough. All forty-nine miners will fit.”

“And the guards?”

“I’ll reassign their system rotation for our departure cycle,” he said. “I’ve been pulling them back, anyway, using my override credentials to block queries and using the tunnel collapse as emergency justification.”

She swallowed. Her mouth was dry. “When…? How long until we leave?”

He didn’t answer right away. “Four cycles.”

“Stars.” The air in her lungs turned sharp. “That soon?”

“We don’t have longer. Central’s likely preclearing a review patrol as we speak. That’s two warships with a combined eighty Axis agents. If they arrive before we leave, we’re done.”

She nodded slowly and tried to tamp down the panic that was pushing to be noticed. “Where will we go?”

His gaze dropped to the table. “I chose a destination at the fringe of the system. Deep space. Barely tagged in Axis maps. First, we find somewhere safe for the miners—an outpost or neutral territory. Aside from your friend Jorr, none of them are violent, and Jorr poisoned that Axis agent because he slaughtered Jorr’s family. The miners can choose their own paths. From there…” His gaze met hers. “…we start looking for them.”

Cerani’s brows drew together. “For who?”

“The others,” he said. “The ones like us. The rebels. Zaruxians who’ve broken away. Terians who didn’t vanish—your friends, possibly. You said you wanted to find them. And I want to meet these Zaruxians who have caused so much upheaval to the Axis.”

Hope stirred in her chest and made her heart ache in a way she wasn’t prepared for. Finding her scattered friends was a dream she’d locked away for the sake of her sanity. A ship out of here. A route to her people. A hunt for the truth. All of it. “You think we can find them?”

“If anyone can, it’s us.” Stavian tapped the screen and brought up a new display—navigation now, not schematics. “When we’re off the Axis network, I can track the incident logs of the other events—settlement liberation, ship raid, arena collapse, the brothel incident. We follow those paths. Chart the quiet. Listen differently. It might take us many cycles,” he said. “We’ll have to move like ghosts and break all the rules I was taught to enforce. But…” He turned the display toward her and the rotating star field painted his face in pale silver. “…we don’t stop until we find them. I want to join their rebellion. Do you?”

Cerani leaned in. The screen’s glow lit Stavian’s chiseled cheek, pale blue threaded with the edges of a star cluster. Images of the settlement flashed through her. Cold soil. Hard ground. Kneeling with bare fingers to work a field that didn’t belong to them. Riests walking between rows, chanting praises to the Axis while inking designations into the skin of newborns. She closed her eyes, wishing that could block out the memories.

“I’ve been thinking about my life at the settlements,” she said, her voice low. “I can’t know how we didn’t know we were prisoners. It was so obvious.” She paused and let that truth settle for both of them. “But I’m done with that life. I’m ready to be a part of something more. Yes, I want to join their rebellion.”

He didn’t speak, but his expression shifted. Like a lock turned and something opened. It had been there since the beginning, the way she watched him move, the first time she saw him standing in the mine shaft like the air didn’t touch him. She’d seen the fracture lines in him even back then—how he wanted out, even if he didn’t know it yet.

Now he did.

All of it poured from his eyes. A molten mix of rage and resolve, tethered to her, because she hadn’t stopped at challenging the system. She’d challenged him.

This wasn’t just about DeLink 22K. It was about everything—control, oppression, memory, choice. They weren’t just running to stay alive. They were going to war.

Her fingers moved across the solid expanse of his chest. Small movements. She liked the way his muscles twitched under her touch and the uptick in his pulse as she let her hand drift lower. “This won’t be a clean escape, will it?”

His breathing had turned uneven, but he answered steadily. “It will if they don’t try to follow us.” He placed a hand over hers, holding it still on his abdomen. “But they will.”

Cerani nodded, slow. Her throat felt tight again, but not from fear. From readiness. “What are our chances?”

He shook his head. “Better than if we stay here. The miners will die and I can’t keep cycling in new people to watch them meet the same fate in that mine. And you can’t live the rest of your life in this room.”

She gazed up at him, then leaned up and pressed her mouth to his. Just one press. Solid. Certain. Not soft.

“I’m with you,” she said against his skin. “What will you need from me?”

He smiled, but his gaze was hard. “I’ll need you to lead your people.”