Page 24 of Galactic Sentinels, Vol. 1 (Chronicles of Pherebos #1)

Ileana

I wake up slowly, still wrapped in that lingering euphoria.

I reach out for Pherebos, but the space beside me is already cold.

He must’ve gotten up early—maybe to make breakfast, go for a run, or just to shake off another nightmare.

He once told me, in a quiet voice, that memories from his past still come back to haunt him.

I didn’t press. He’ll talk when he’s ready.

As I get dressed, my thoughts drift to everything that’s changed.

It’s only been five days since everything shifted between Pherebos and me—since that moment with SIL. My beautiful Asgarnien is gentle, attentive, and kind. Everything the Governor never was. I’ve discovered a whole new kind of closeness with him. It’s like stepping into a different world.

Henri always wore a smile in public, but behind closed doors, he was cold.

Sometimes even cruel. He’d demand I “pay tribute,” using my body however he pleased, without the slightest concern for how I felt.

Maybe it was his age, or maybe it was just who he was—but those moments were rare, and when they happened, they hurt.

He’d stand behind me, make me kneel, and lift me up again in seconds, never even bothering to take off his nightclothes.

Then he’d leave, and I’d head straight to the shower, scrubbing away any trace of him before going back to my room.

When I’m with Pherebos, it’s different. I feel loved—truly loved. He looks at me like I’m the most important thing in his world. He’s patient, gentle, and so deeply understanding. But more than anything, his kindness feels real. It’s not a performance. It’s who he is.

Sure, there have been others since then who weren’t as tender. But every time, Pherebos brings me back to myself. He knows how to guide me to that edge, how to make me feel powerful and beautiful all at once.

Our daily rhythm has changed too. Pherebos spends a lot of time with me now, walking me through the details of MyFaS and the Confederation. He even asks about my past—about my parents, about Prianka. He listens.

In the mornings, I go with him around the energy dome.

After his jog, he slows down to a trot and gently leads me along.

I’m nowhere near as fit as he is, so I tire out pretty quickly.

I usually run just a quarter of the way, and even then, I’m slower than I think he expects.

But he never says a word about it. We just walk the rest of the loop together .

He’s incredibly kind. He shows me the different markers he checks to monitor the terraforming progress, and he’s even teaching me how to recognize certain plants—like the one used to make fabric with the replicator. It’s fascinating.

Wingo tags along for part of the route, but he usually peels off to hunt or just stretch his legs on his own.

Later in the day, Pherebos teaches me how to cook. And honestly? I kind of enjoy it. It’s way easier to follow his calm explanations while watching him work than trying to keep up with Wingo’s... let’s say, less structured approach.

I’m sure Prianka would’ve loved Pherebos and Wingo. As I step outside the complex and take a deep breath, I tell myself—she would’ve loved MyFaS too.

That thought brings a small sense of comfort. My sister’s gone, and she’s never coming back. But I can’t help seeing this new world through her eyes, wondering what she would’ve thought, what she would’ve said.

Wingo suddenly drops down in front of me, belly to the ground, tongue lolling out, then springs sideways like a bolt of energy.

“Ileana, come quickly!”

His excitement makes me smile. I glance around for Pherebos.

“He’s busy at SIL. Come on! I have to show you something! What did you find that’s got you all worked up? Hang on, I’m putting on my shoes!”

A few seconds later, I’m out the door, shoes on, trying not to lose sight of my furry speedster .

I start to worry a little when I realize we’re heading toward the lake. But Wingo stops beside a small bush, tail wagging.

“Look!” he says. “These are the same berries from my home planet! Pherebos had the idea—when he rescued me, he brought some back and planted them here. It’s the first time they’ve ever borne fruit!”

I crouch down to get a closer look. The shrub is compact, its branches dotted with small, dark berries.

“Really? These are from your world?”

“Yes! Pherebos planted them when we first arrived. I’ve been watching them, but until now, they only grew leaves. And this morning—berries!”

“That’s amazing! Do they even taste good?”

“ I’m not sure—I haven’t tried them yet, ” Wingo says, eyeing the berries. “But they look pretty ripe.”

“So what are you waiting for, you goof?” I tease, gently ruffling the fur on his head.

He hesitates for a second, then leans in, licks one of the dark berries, and pops it into his mouth.

I watch him chew slowly, thoughtfully, and I can’t help but think about Pherebos. He actually brought back a berry from Wingo’s home planet and tried to grow it here—just for him. That kind of gesture says everything. He really cares about our little furball.

But then, out of nowhere, Wingo freezes. His eyes go wide, and he flops backward, tongue hanging out, stained dark from the berry juice.

My heart leaps into my throat. I drop to my knees beside him, panic rising fast .

“Wingo? Wingooo!” I press my hands to his side, desperate for a sign of life. “Oh no, what do I do? PHEREBOOOOS!”

“Whoa, not so loud—you’re gonna blow out my eardrums!”

“Wingo? Are you okay? What just happened?!”

“I’ve died… of pleasure!” he declares dramatically. “I haven’t tasted that exquisite fruit in two years…”

“You fell! You weren’t moving! Are you sure you’re okay?”

The little rascal lifts his head, grinning like a fool, tongue still lolling to the side. Then he winks.

“Better than ever. I can’t believe I get to eat the fruit of my childhood again.”

“Ugh, you scared me, you idiot! I nearly had a heart attack,” I say, half-laughing, half-serious. “Don’t ever do that again—or I swear I’ll kill you for real next time.”

“If Pherebos doesn’t get to me first,” Wingo quips just as my handsome Asgarnian comes running up, clearly worried.

He’s wearing his usual—just loose pants that hang low on his hips, showing off that perfectly sculpted stomach—and I can’t help but stare.

“Yeah, keep staring at him like that! As long as he’s distracted, he won’t start yelling at me,” Wingo mutters sheepishly in my head.

Pherebos slows to a stop, eyes scanning me. What’s going on here? My Faksaya, are you all right?

“Oh, sorry,” I say quickly, trying to cover for Wingo. “I saw a huge bug and freaked out.”

Pherebos raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. Wingo’s innocent face isn’t helping our case .

“Look, Pherebos… Wingo was just showing me this berry bush you brought here and planted for him. That was such a sweet gesture.”

“I can see that. So, in the eighty seconds it took me to run over here—alarmed by your very dramatic call—you managed to escape a terrifying giant insect, find this bush, and Wingo had time to taste it and smear it all over his chin. Did I get that right?”

My handsome Asgarnian gives me a long look, a teasing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. But then his expression shifts—his eyes narrow, and his brows draw together.

“Or… Wingo pulled his classic fainting trick. That little joke he loves that no one else finds funny.”

While Pherebos gently scolds him, Wingo becomes deeply absorbed in studying a clump of grass, as if the entire conversation has nothing to do with him.

Right on cue, my stomach lets out a loud, unmistakable growl. Two pairs of eyes snap toward me, and I can feel their gaze drop to my belly.

“Sorry… I think I’m hungry,” I mumble, cheeks flushing.

A few minutes later, we’re back inside the complex.

I’m sitting at the table, sipping a warm infusion while Pherebos watches me with that intense, unreadable gaze of his.

The air between us feels charged. There’s something simmering just beneath the surface—something I can feel in the way he looks at me.

But he’s clearly decided that feeding me comes first .

He places a slice of fresh bread in front of me, still warm from the solar oven. I eat it quickly, sensing that he has something else in mind. Without breaking eye contact, he cuts another slice.

“Shit,” he mutters suddenly, pulling his hand back. Blood wells up from a deep cut on his finger.

“You cut yourself!” I exclaim, seeing how bad it is.

“It’s nothing.”

“Don’t move. I’ll get the med kit.”

I rush off and return seconds later with the full suture kit. Judging by the mess on the counter, he really didn’t hold back—there’s blood everywhere. That’s what happens when you play with a sharp knife while completely distracted.

As soon as I lift the compress from his hand, the bleeding starts again. I press down gently but firmly, waiting a few minutes for the flow to slow, then carefully disinfect the wound. Once it’s clean, I take out the suture pen and close the cut with slow, precise movements.

The bleeding finally stops. It’ll probably still be sore for a few days, though.

“Thanks for the help,” Pherebos says. “You’re really good at this.”

“It’s not that impressive,” I reply. “You’ve got all the right tools here. It’s easy to treat minor stuff. But when it comes to serious injuries—the kind that need real stitching and thread—it’s a whole different story.”

“And if you had the chance,”he asks,“what kind of medicine would you want to practice? ”

I take a moment to think. He’s only my second patient, after all. Prianka was the first, and she was rarely sick or hurt—except for the times she needed a chamber. I’ve learned a lot, but I’m still figuring out where I fit in the medical world.

“I grew up in the Swiss Confederation,” I say. “They’re incredibly advanced when it comes to medicine. They use chambers instead of surgery for muscles, tendons, bones… And with injector pens and all the treatments available, you can handle a lot without taking big risks.”

“But you still have to diagnose and choose the right treatment. That’s not nothing.”

“Exactly. And right now, I think I’d like to work somewhere smaller—on a planet that doesn’t have all the resources of the big bases. A place where I could really make a difference. I’ve read about under-equipped worlds that would love to have an extra doctor.”

I glance at him, trying to read his reaction. What does he think of that dream?

I already know I won’t be content with this cushy life on MyFaS. Prianka and I talked about it a lot. She knew how fragile life could be—how it could end in an instant. She made me promise that if I ever had the chance, I’d chase my dream.

And I’m 100% committed to keeping that promise.

Pherebos looks at his finger one last time, then turns to me with a mischievous glint in his eye .

“So now that I’m watertight again… why don’t we pick up where we left off?”

“You mean breakfast?”

“Ah, My Faksaya, I thought you’d finished eating and it was time for a shower. What do you think?”

I meet his teasing gaze, heart skipping. He’s been using that little Asgarnian word— Faksaya —more and more lately when he talks to me. I still don’t know what it means. Oddly, my implant hasn’t translated it. I’ll save that mystery for another time.

My handsome companion has clearly moved on from our serious conversation, his thoughts drifting back to lighter things.

I don’t blame him. He’s not wrong—wewerein the middle of a pretty intense moment before the whole berry-bush incident interrupted us.

Still, I can’t help but wonder about that “shower” comment. Is he suggesting we go together? Henri never would’ve said something like that. He was always so guarded, even in bed. Maybe he was afraid of being seen—really seen.

“A shower?” I ask, just to be sure. “Uh… both of us?”

“Yes, a shower,” he replies, completely unfazed. “I went for a run this morning, and as a future medical professional, I think it’s your duty to make sure I’m in good shape—by checking every nook and cranny. You never know, there could be a hidden sore, an overlooked rash, a strange malformat— ”

“Okay, okay, I get the idea!” I cut him off, laughing. “You’re right. I should probably do a full check-up. Just to be safe.”

My handsome Asgarnian gives me a knowing smile, one eyebrow raised in that way that makes my heart skip a beat.

Okay… I get it. Heissuggesting something a little more playful in the hygiene room. I’ve never done anything like that before. I just hope I don’t come off as awkward or completely clueless.

I follow him to the bathroom, watching as he closes the door behind us.

My nerves flutter, but I decide to lean into the doctor-patient roleplay and keep the mood light.

“Be a cute patient and get in the shower—after you undress,” I say, trying to sound professional.

“Cute?” he repeats, mock-offended. “I’m not into cute. Did you confuse me with Wingo or something?”

I freeze for a moment, caught off guard and unsure how to respond. His reaction unsettles me.

Pherebos lets out a long breath and pulls the tie from his hair, letting it fall loose around his shoulders.

“Sorry, My Faksaya,” he says gently. “I didn’t mean to raise my voice. But please… don’t call a mancute. It’s just… kind of offensive. Let’s just take a shower together.”

I hesitate, still a little thrown. But then he steps into the warm cascade of water and holds out his hand to me .

Three seconds later, I’m there.

He wraps both hands gently around my neck, his thumbs brushing the base of my skull in slow, soothing circles. Then he leans in, resting his forehead against mine.

“Ileana,” he says softly, “you and I… we’re still learning each other.

We’ll mess up sometimes—say the wrong thing, misunderstand each other.

But we can talk about it. We won’t let a single word fester in silence.

I want you to know that no matter what you say or do, I’ll still feel what I feel for you right now.

Nothing will ever make me raise a hand against you.

Ever. I don’t want you to be afraid of me. ”

“I’m not afraid of you,” I whisper. “You’ve always been kind. Patient. But… I don’t like it when you raise your voice.”

He sighs, regret in his eyes. “I know. I’m sorry, My Faksaya. But, you just hit a nerve. You don’t call a man cute.”

“What was that first rule again?” I tease, a smile tugging at my lips.

“We don’t say he has a little trunk either!”

“I would never say that about yours!” I burst out laughing, the tension melting between us.

He grins, eyes sparkling, and in that moment, everything feels light again—like we’re exactly where we’re meant to be!