Page 27 of Galactic Sentinels, Vol. 1 (Chronicles of Pherebos #1)

Ileana.

I wake slowly, still wrapped in the soft afterglow of happiness. Pherebos makes me feel whole. I’m starting to realize that this man—so strong, yet so gentle—has quietly taken root in my heart. Despite all my doubts, I’m falling for him… deeply, irreversibly.

I reach out, but the bed beside me is already cold. Again. Maybe he’s out running with Wingo. Or maybe he’s making breakfast—there’s a rich, familiar scent in the air. Coffee? I didn’t even know we had coffee on MyFaS. Up until now, it’s only been herbal infusions.

I slip on the tunic Pherebos made for me from local plants, soft and light against my skin. Just as I’m about to go find him, I catch a glimpse of movement behind the rear wall. He must be out on the terrace, watching the sunrise.

I head toward the door, but then I hear a voice—deep, unfamiliar. A man’s voice. I pause, instinctively staying hidden, and catch fragments of their conversation .

“I’ve got the girl a fake ID bracelet that’ll get her into anywhere in the Confederation. She’s free to go wherever she wants now.”

So this is Akifumi—the one Pherebos told me about.

He must’ve arrived early, which explains why Pherebos left my room so quietly.

And he brought me a new ID. Could this really mean I’ll have full freedom again?

The chance to travel, to find a place to practice medicine? My heart leaps at the thought.

But then I hear Pherebos respond, his voice low and firm:

“Thank you for that. But I’m not planning to tell her just yet. I’d rather keep her here with me.”

What?

I freeze. Did I hear that right?

He has a way to give me back my freedom… and he’s choosing not to? Why would he keep that from me? Why would he want to keep me here, isolated?

“You haven’t told her what we’ve been up to, have you?”

“No, don’t worry. She has no idea. I’ve been careful not to say anything that could give us away.”

My heart pounds in my chest. He’s hiding something. Something serious. Something that involves me directly.

Suddenly, I’m back in the shadows of my past—Henri’s secrets, his manipulations, the way he used favors to tighten his grip on power. I thought Pherebos was different. I felt he was different. Was I wrong?

I can’t shake the feeling that I’m missing something important. Something that would explain all this .

I step outside quietly, staying close to the wall. They’re facing the lake, bathed in the soft light of dawn. They don’t see me.

Then Akifumi speaks again:

“There’s a big slave sale coming up in the twelfth parsec south. Thought you might be interested.”

“You did the right thing. Of course I’m interested. This is the opportunity I’ve been waiting for. I’ll be there.”

“And your guest?”

“I’ll take care of Ileana. Don’t worry.”

"You can count on me."

The words hit me like a blade of ice. My blood turns cold, cracking through my chest and soul like frost splitting stone. I’ve never felt this kind of pain—not even when I uncovered the Governor’s darkest secrets.

Pherebos… the man I trusted, the man I loved … is planning to sell me at a slave market.

I feel like the ground has vanished beneath me.

I knew he was involved in shady dealings, but I believed him when he said it was just counterfeit goods.

I wanted to believe him. Like a fool, I let his kisses and his carefully crafted tenderness wear down my defenses.

I swore I’d never trust a man blindly again. And yet… here I am.

I have to get out. Now.

I rush back to my room, heart pounding, and slip on my soft-soled slippers to protect my feet. Every second counts. They still think I’m asleep—I have to use that to my advantage .

I close the rear window and open the one facing the landing platform. No time to try SIL again. I already know it won’t respond to me—it’s loyal to Pherebos. I tried everything when I first arrived on MyFaS. That ship has a mind of its own.

But Akifumi’s single-seater is different.

I sprint across the platform, climb the access ramp, and activate the lock.

“Hello. Where do you want to go?” the AI asks in its neutral, metallic voice.

“Show me the map of possible destinations,” I reply, trying to keep my voice steady.

A detailed map of Confederation and Coalition bases appears. I scan it quickly. I can’t go back to the Confederation—Henri would find me in no time. I need somewhere remote. Somewhere forgotten.

I focus on the outer systems—smuggler territory. A planetary base, not a space station. Somewhere small, where my medical skills might actually matter. A place where I can trade knowledge for safety. A place where no one will come looking for me.

I select a destination that fits the bill. Isolated. Quiet. Far from everything.

The AI confirms the coordinates and begins the launch sequence.

As the ship lifts off, I glance back at MyFaS one last time. The planet that gave me hope… and then broke my heart.

I’m free now. But I never imagined freedom could taste so bitter .

Once I reach cruising speed, I finally take a moment to look around. This ship is nothing like Pherebos’s—sleek, cold, efficient. Definitely Confederation tech.

The journey will take about ten days. I’ll need to ration food and water until then.

The cockpit is simple: one seat facing a console, and behind it, a small ovoid space—barely four by three meters. At the far end, a narrow door leads to what I assume is a restroom.

It doesn’t take long to explore. Five minutes, and I’ve seen it all—from the tiny hygiene cubicle to the drawer with nutrition bars, to the single sleeping pod.

When I unfold the bunk, a wave of emotion hits me. The last time I lay in one of these… was the night Pherebos made me his. That memory, once so precious, now feels like a cruel echo.

With nothing else to do, I curl up on the bunk and let the grief take over.

His betrayal cuts deeper than I imagined possible.

I gave him everything—my trust, my heart—and he shattered it.

I thought I was being careful. I thought I’d learned.

But I let myself believe in him. And now I know I was just another pawn in his dealings with the Coalition.

Sleep takes me slowly, heavy with sorrow.

A violent jolt wakes me. Disoriented, I sit up.

“Alert,” the AI announces. “Protective shields are defective.”

“What? What’s going on? ”

“A magnetic pulse has damaged the shields. Protection level now below 10%.”

Another jolt. The lights flicker and die, replaced by a dim orange glow. Then—silence. Even the AI goes quiet.

“AI, de-opacify the front panel!” I call out, hoping to see what’s happening outside.

Nothing. No response. The system is dead.

I try everything—tapping controls, checking panels, even the food drawer and restroom. All locked. I’m trapped. Hungry. Thirsty. And the cold is creeping in.

I don’t know if the ship is still moving or drifting. I don’t know if I’m near a base or lost in deep space. I only know one thing: I might die here.

Eventually, I lie back down, numb. There’s nothing more I can do.

As I fade, my thoughts betray me. I see Pherebos again—his violet eyes, his strong hands, his lips on mine. And despite everything, I fall asleep thinking of him.

Pathetic, right?

A sudden noise jolts me awake. My limbs are heavy, my breath shallow. A flashlight blinds me.

“Whoa! Can you believe this?” says a nasal voice. “Hey, Prax, check this out!”

Everything comes rushing back—the breakdown, the silence, the cold. I was dying. But someone found me. I’m not alone anymore.

I try to sit up, but I’m weak. Two figures stand over me. I don’t care how they got in—I’m just grateful they did .

The first one is massive, with scaly skin, a tetrahedral head, and no hair. I’ve never seen anything like him.

“Shit,” says a deeper voice. “You’re right. This isn’t a Confederation officer. There’s been a mix-up.”

I turn my head toward the second voice. A Sadjim. No doubt. Half-feline, half-human. Young, energetic, with golden eyes and narrow pupils that scan me slowly.

So… they were expecting Akifumi. A Confederation officer. And instead, they found me.

“Who cares?” the first one says. “She’s still worth something. We did the work. No way we’re giving up our prize because of a content error. She’s young. Attractive. She’ll fetch a good price. I’ll sedate her and bring her in—”

No. No, no, no.

I can’t believe it. I escaped one trap only to fall into another. Slave traders.

I try to move, to run—but the Sadjim grabs my arms. His eyes are apologetic, almost regretful.

The other one steps forward, injector pen in hand.

I barely feel the sting in my neck before everything goes black.