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TWENTY-ONE

Cerani

The small circle of Cerani’s world had been shattered and reforged in less than a cycle, and now it hummed with soft laughter and the murmuring comfort of reunion. She sat cross-legged beside the flickering ion fire, on a thick, plum-colored rug, with her sisters of her soul in a loose circle, shoulder to shoulder, like they’d done a thousand times before. Everything felt foreign—except them. The Terians—Sevas, Turi, Lilas, and Fivra—each glowed with their own unique lights. Their bodies were relaxed and their voices light as they passed a tray of fruit, warm bread, and little sparkling cups filled with a sweet citrus drink.

The room was softer than anything Cerani had allowed herself to imagine: golden light blooming from the wall panels and soft seating pushed into corners, like a dream half-remembered. She wore cream-colored leggings and a sleeveless wrap that hugged her comfortably. Her skin was moisturized, clean, and warm. For the first time since she was taken, she felt fully in her body again. She had bathed. They had eaten. And now they sat in a pile like they used to do back at the settlement, knees touching, heads leaned in close, the fire pulsing gently behind them as Lilas told a story too rude to repeat, and someone laughed so hard they spilled a drink and didn’t try to clean it up right away. Everything felt surreal—like they were sitting inside the impossible—and Cerani couldn’t breathe without tearing a little, because it was true. They were alive. They were together.

All here—except…

She braced herself and asked the question that had been haunting her since she’d wrapped her arms around four of her friends. One was missing. “Where’s Nena?”

They went quiet. Lilas looked away. Sevas’s eyes closed.

“We haven’t found Nena yet,” Turi said, her voice hushed.

Cerani felt something cold settle behind her heart. “Do we know if…?”

“We don’t know anything,” Turi said. “We had a clue as to where you were. Someone saw an Axis manifest that listed a Terian on route to the DeLink Mine system. That’s how we managed to show up. Ellion thought we’d be looking at a full-scale attack on the mine to get to you.”

She swallowed. Hurt stung through her chest like it had been hiding behind her ribs, waiting to burn through. “Your timing was perfect, but we have to find Nena.”

“We will.” Sevas crossed her arms. She was still tall and strong, but rather than the dark, matted hair she’d had on the settlement to hide her true maturity and, thus, delay being forced to take a bondmate, Sevas stood tall and let her hair be its natural bright gold. “We won’t give up.”

“There’s one more brother out there, too.” Lilas pushed back her jaw-length purple hair. “He’s proving hard to find, too.”

“If we find one, we’ll find the other,” Fivra predicted, tapping her lips with a fingertip. “I bet they’re together, just like we are with our Zaruxians.”

Cerani breathed through it. Of all her friends, Fivra was the last one she expected to see end up with a charming brothel director. To his credit, Cyprian was utterly smitten with her. It was impossible to miss the love in his eyes when he looked at her.

Cerani turned toward Turi, who still clung to her hand like she wasn’t ready to let go. “When I saw him,” she said, her voice lower now, “the overseer—I’m sorry—Ellion, standing there on the viewing screen?” What a mind-shock that had been. “I thought it was over. I thought, no way do we walk out of this alive. Stavian and I had brought forty-eight people straight into Axis hands again.” She squeezed Turi’s hand. “Whatever you did to change him, thank you.”

Lilas snorted. “It wasn’t just you. We had that reaction, too. It was…jarring, at first, to be face-to-face with him.” She glanced at Turi. “No offense. He’s great. But for a long time, he was scary.”

“No offense taken,” Turi said. “I thought he was scary, too. I mean, he flew me off to his fortress and told me I’d never leave.” She blew out a hard breath. “It wasn’t the smoothest start to a relationship. But the thing is, I didn’t change him. Not really. It was all there inside of him.”

Cerani’s fear at the initial sight of him, framed beside the other Zaruxians in that command center, had strangled her. But stepping aboard their ship and seeing what they stood for—the fire that flared behind their rebellion, how they no longer served the Axis—had melted that fear away.

Ellion had not only broken away, he’d freed the settlements where Cerani and her friends had lived. He’d started their part of the rebellion by walking out of a penal colony and leveling the Axis forces on his way out.

He’d looked her in the eye when they finally came face-to-face and said, “The minute I stopped pretending the Axis were worth my loyalty was the minute I became free.”

That’s when she’d started to trust him. Really trust him. Not just as a protector of her people—but as someone who understood exactly why they had to burn the system down.

“You walk through life thinking you’ll always be under someone’s boot,” Cerani said softly, holding Turi’s hand. “Then one day, someone like him—like all the Zaruxian males we fell in love with—says no. Just no. And all you can do is look up and realize you’re not meant to survive in a cage. You’re meant to take the whole thing apart.”

Sevas nodded, her voice thick. “That’s basically what Takkian said he felt when we were planning to break out of the arena. Something in him broke, but not in the way the Axis wanted.”

Lilas nodded. “Razion had always been fighting the Axis, but having his brothers changed things. Made it more real. Just like us finding each other again.” It was rare for Lilas to talk like this—real, without a cutting joke. She smiled and lifted her glass. “Who knew a bunch of female farmers would cause so much amazing trouble?”

Cerani smiled and they all raised their glasses. Something about hearing that made it real all over again. Not just the reunion, but the stakes that came with it. For once in her life, someone wasn’t trying to control the Terians. They were powerful. Seen. Loved.

Sevas crossed her arms and tilted her head. “So,” she drawled, “what went down in that mine? Because you’re glowing like someone dipped you in stardust.”

“Nothing exciting.” Cerani made a face. “I worked thirty-four cycles before the mine collapsed. I practically lived there.”

“And yet,” Lilas said, narrowing her eyes, “you have the skin of someone who soaked in monha oil every morning and has never missed a meal.”

Sevas jerked her chin toward her. “Your hair too. It’s—smoother? Brighter?”

“Your irises are clearer,” Fivra added, not blinking. “Like…like they’ve gone more amber than gold. Did they change?”

“No,” Cerani said, then hesitated. “Maybe. I don’t know. The lower levels of the mine had psiak radiation. It made all the other miners sick, but not me. Didn’t even make me tired. Just the opposite, actually. I was the only one who got healthier down there.”

“Ah, so that’s it.” Lilas looked at the others. “Remember what Bruil said about Teria?”

Cerani tilted her head, confusion flickering. “What about Teria?”

All four of them exchanged glances as Sevas leaned in. “Bruil told us about the radiation on Teria,” she said, low and steady. “It sounds similar. Atmospheric exposure—psiak-based. That same energy that breaks down most species? It did the opposite to our ancestors.”

“It…strengthened them,” Lilas added. “He said Terians used to live the same long lifespans as the Zaruxians. Stronger bodies, faster healing, and a much slower aging process.”

Cerani blinked. Her pulse kicked behind her ribs.

“Bruil was around before the Axis took over Zarux and Teria,” Sevas went on. “Our bodies fed on that radiation, needing it like air. When the Axis rounded up the Terian survivors and dumped them on the planet where our settlements were, our lifespans shortened dramatically because there was no radiation. We lived short lives—a small fraction of what they once were. We…forgot who we were and where we came from as the generations rolled on.”

Sevas crossed her arms. “Which makes your case interesting, Cera. You’re thriving.”

“I felt so guilty,” Cerani said. “That whole time in the mine—everyone else was coughing, breaking down, thinning down to bone, and I was just…getting stronger.”

Fivra cocked her head. “It wasn’t your fault, you know.”

Cerani closed her eyes and wished she could believe her friend’s words. “That air took a dozen lives while I filled quotas like I was born to extract crystal.”

“Maybe you were,” Lilas said.

Cerani jerked her head around.

Lilas lifted her hands. “I’m not saying we belong in some Axis mine. I’m saying maybe what they tried to weaponize is just who we are. Strong. Fast. Durable.” She stepped forward. “They made us prisoners for it. Which means it’s probably the most powerful gift we’ve got.”

Cerani’s breath ran ragged through her chest. She thought of the thirty-four cycles she’d worked, the suits she’d patched, the way her skin had stayed smooth under radiation. The miners lying in the med lab, then moved offline—no, killed. How she’d walked out of it stronger than she started.

“They’ll never stop coming for us,” she said slowly.

“No.” Turi’s voice held that quiet fire Cerani had come to rely on. When Turi believed in something, she didn’t say it loudly—she said it with certainty that rang deep. “But we’re not who we used to be. Neither are you.”

Cerani pressed her lips together, trying to hold everything in. The tears. The rage. The relief.

“We fight back this time,” Sevas said.

Fivra nodded. “And we remember who we were before they told us who to be.”

Cerani looked at each of them in turn. They had grown up on a prison world disguised as home. They’d been told what to wear, how to speak, when to smile, and who to belong to. The Axis had written their fates before they’d taken their first breaths.

But now?

Cerani had a crew of fighters. She had a ship. And she had loved ones who still believed she mattered.

“We find Nena,” she whispered. “No bargaining. No waiting. No peace until we do.”

“We will,” Lilas said. “But you also need to hear this. That thing you said earlier? About walking through life under someone’s boot? It was never your—our—fate. We were always meant to lead.”

Lead your people. That’s what Stavian had said when they’d planned the escape. Cerani exhaled, her jaw trembling. The words hit harder than they should have. And maybe they were true.

“It’s true.” Lilas leaned back with mischief twinkling in her eyes. “We’re all mates to princes, after all.” She grinned. “Bet you didn’t see that coming.”

Turi quirked an eyebrow. “I thought we agreed to wait to drop that on her.”

Cerani shook her head. “Say what?”

“Yup. Our Zaruxians are the offspring of the queen of Zarux,” Sevas said. “The planet was falling. She made the Axis agree to spare her six hatchlings—yes, they hatched from eggs—and the remaining Zaruxians in exchange for turning herself over to them. They killed her, of course, but they did let the princes live. I mean, they turned them into Axis agents, but…”

“Except for Razion,” Lilas added. “He was a troublesome fekker from the beginning.”

When Cerani just stared at them, Sevas let out a full, deep laugh and clapped Cerani on the shoulder. “Oh, Cera, We have so much to fill you in on.”

Cerani thought about at the vast ship they were standing in, the brothers who’d broken free to lend them their strength, and the storm of rebellion that was now waiting just beyond the next star.

She drew in a deep breath. “Then let’s begin.”