Page 1 of Human Reclaimed (Cyborg Planet Alpha #2)

ONE

TALIA

I pressed a smile onto my face as I handed out another stack of glitter-infused cardstock to the veterans seated around the long table. The recreation room smelled like pine from the small Christmas tree in the corner and peppermint from the cocoa being passed around.

“Remember, folks, these cards mean everything to the troops away from home,” I said, tucking a strand of my blonde hair behind my ear. “Trust me. I know from experience.”

Mr. Gunderson looked up at me. “You get any of these cards when you were deployed, Talia?”

The question hit like a punch to the gut. “I did. My friend, Travis, always saved them and had the whole collection taped to his bunk. Said they reminded him what we were fighting for.” My voice caught on his name, and I busied myself straightening the already-neat pile of markers.

Camille swooped in from behind, her dark curls bouncing as she placed her hands on my shoulders. “We’ve got tinsel and those little pom-poms too, if anyone wants to get fancy!” She squeezed my shoulders with subtle reassurance.

The veterans went back to their crafting, conversations flowing around me like water around a stone.

I moved between them, helping where needed, but my mind drifted three years back—to snow-capped mountains, to blood on the white ground, to the sound of Travis’s last breath and Meredith’s scream cutting off too suddenly.

“Earth to Talia.” Camille’s voice yanked me back. She’d cornered me by the supply cabinet, her arms crossed. “You’re doing it again.”

I straightened the markers in the tray again. “Doing what?”

“That blank stare. It’s Christmas time, honey. You can’t keep living in that mission.”

“I’m not?—”

“You absolutely are.” She lowered her voice. “Look, the facility Christmas party is next Friday, and Lieutenant Rodriguez from physical therapy has been asking about you.”

I let out a hollow laugh. “So subtle, Cam.”

“I’m just saying, he’s cute, single, and doesn’t talk about military specs during dinner.”

“How would you know what he talks about during dinner?” I grabbed a stack of ribbon spools to distribute.

Camille followed me back toward the table. “Because unlike some people, I actually accept dinner invitations occasionally.”

“I’m not ready for that.” The ribbon spools clacked against each other as I set them down with more force than necessary.

“It’s been three years, Tal.” Her voice softened. “Travis and Meredith wouldn’t want?—”

“Don’t.” I turned to face her, my chest tight. “Just… don’t tell me what they would want.”

Camille’s brown eyes softened. “What I meant was, you deserve some joy in your life. Those getaways you three planned every year… you loved them. Maybe you need to create new traditions.”

“With Lieutenant Rodriguez?” I arched an eyebrow.

“With anyone! With me, with the veterans, or with a damn cat.” She grabbed a piece of red card stock and folded it with sharp, decisive creases. “Sitting alone in your condo drinking bourbon and watching old movies isn’t a Christmas tradition. It’s a depression spiral.”

I looked around at the veterans here at the local veterans’ facility—some missing limbs, some with visible scars, and some with wounds you couldn’t see but were just as deep.

Yet here they were, making silly Christmas cards with glitter that would inevitably end up in places glitter had no business being.

“I’ll think about it,” I muttered.

Camille beamed. “That’s all I ask.”

“But I’m not promising to talk to Rodriguez.”

“Fine, fine.” She winked. “I’ll just make sure he’s standing under the mistletoe when you walk into the Christmas party.”

I turned to help Mr. Abernathy find the blue marker he’d dropped, grateful for the distraction.

The truth was, I couldn’t imagine sharing my life with anyone but my best friends, Travis and Meredith.

How could I explain to anyone else what I’d lived through during my fifteen years in the army?

The nightmares that still jolted me awake at night?

“I’m just not ready for close friends or a man in my life,” I muttered to myself. “Maybe I never will be.”

But I knew deep down that if Travis and Meredith were still alive, they would tell me to get my ass in gear and stop feeling sorry for myself.

Several hours later, I stood at the side entrance of the facility as Camille wound her bright red scarf around her neck, her eyes darting nervously to her watch.

“Are you sure you don’t mind locking up? The caroling starts in twenty minutes, and my mom will kill me if I’m late again.” Her breath puffed white in the cold December air.

“Go,” I chuckled, nudging her toward her car. “I’ve got this. Wouldn’t want your mom thinking I’m a bad influence.”

Camille paused, her expression softening. “Maybe do something fun tonight? That new coffee shop downtown is open late. They have live music on Thursdays.”

“Yeah, maybe I will.” The lie slid easily from my lips.

“Talia Reed, I know exactly what you’re going to do. Sweatpants, bourbon, and that Christmas movie you’ve seen sixteen times.”

I feigned offense. “It’s fourteen times, thank you very much.”

“Promise me you’ll at least think about it? Something different tonight?”

“I promise I’ll think about it. Now go, before your mom adds me to her naughty list.”

Camille hugged me quickly, the scent of her vanilla perfume surrounding me briefly before she dashed to her car.

I watched her taillights disappear down the road before turning back into the empty facility.

The silence pressed in around me as I moved through the rooms, shutting down computers, checking windows, and turning off lights.

My footsteps echoed on the linoleum floor.

The veterans’ Christmas cards were drying on the rack in the recreation room, glitter catching the lights above just before I switched them off. Some Christmas traditions continued. Others ended abruptly, with blood in the snow and screams that still echoed in my nightmares.

After completing the final check of the building, I locked the main door and walked out into the biting cold.

The parking lot was dark, the facility’s budget too tight for proper lighting.

Only a few flickering lamps cast pools of yellow light across the asphalt.

My phone buzzed with a weather alert, and I pulled it out.

My heart clenched at the lock screen. Travis, Meredith, and I were decked out in the ugliest Christmas sweaters we could find, celebrating at that ski lodge party.

Travis had a tinsel crown askew on his head, Meredith was mid-laugh, and I was actually smiling—really smiling.

Three years ago, before everything went to hell.

The weather app confirmed what the heavy clouds promised—a severe snowstorm rolling in within the next few hours. Nine o’clock already. I needed to get home.

I trudged toward my car, keys clutched in one hand and phone in the other. The cold numbed my fingers as I reached for my car door. A movement reflected in the window—a dark shadow behind me.

Before I could react, strong arms grabbed me from behind, one hand clamping over my mouth. My training kicked in instantly. I slammed my elbow back, connecting with something solid. I heard a grunt—distinctly male—as my attacker momentarily loosened his grip.

“Target is resisting,” a deep voice muttered.

I twisted, managing to wrench one arm free. A second man appeared from the shadows, dressed in dark tactical gear that looked eerily familiar—not standard military issue but something too similar.

“Need some assistance?” The second man’s voice was clipped.

My first attacker adjusted his grip, pinning my arms. “Unnecessary. Securing the target now.”

I kicked back, connecting with his shin. “Let me go, you son of?—”

The large attacker spun me around, and for the first time, I got a clear look at his face in the dim light. Piercing blue eyes, sharp features, and dark auburn hair cut short on the sides. A small scar above his left eyebrow. Not the face of a common thug or mercenary.

“Captain Talia Reed,” he said, his voice deep and controlled.

My blood froze. No one used my rank anymore, not since I’d been discharged from the army two years ago.

“Who the hell are you?” I demanded, struggling against his iron grip.

Something flickered across his face—hesitation? Doubt? It vanished almost immediately.

I twisted more forcefully against his strong hold, my muscles straining. “Tell me who you are and what the hell you want with me. Now.”

His eyes locked on to mine—intense and focused, almost hypnotizing in their clarity. Something was unsettling about his gaze, too direct and unwavering.

“This isn’t personal.” His voice rumbled deep in his chest.

“Kidnapping me seems pretty damn personal.”

The second man moved to my left. I turned my head just as he stepped closer, a thin metallic device in his gloved hand.

“Wait—” I managed before feeling a sharp sting in my neck.

My knees instantly weakened. The world tilted sideways as the sedative rushed through my system.

The tall man caught me as I slumped, one arm wrapping around my waist. My head fell against his chest, and I caught the scent of something familiar—clean and earthy yet distinctly him. A smell from my war days.

“Target secured,” the second man said. “Transport arriving in sixty seconds.”

As my consciousness ebbed, I forced my blue eyes to focus closer on their uniforms. The material seemed to shimmer slightly under the dim parking lot lights—not standard tactical gear but something more advanced.

My gaze snagged on an emblem on the tall man’s collar: a stylized alpha symbol overlaid with what looked like a planet.

Not CyberEvolution’s double helix logo but similar in design aesthetic. The uniforms were too similar to be a coincidence.

My heart raced as my thoughts splintered. CyberEvolution. The files I’d discovered. The experiments I’d reported to my commanding officer before my sudden “honorable discharge.” But why now? Two years of silence and then this?

“The extraction window is closing,” the second man said. “We need to move now.”

The tall man’s arm tightened around me as he lifted me fully against his chest. For a kidnapper, the gesture was almost gentle.

“She’s fighting the sedative,” he murmured, and something in his tone sounded almost impressed.

My lips felt numb as I tried to speak. “If you’re… CyberEvolution… you should know… I’m not afraid of you.”

A subtle shift in his expression—surprise, perhaps? “We are not CyberEvolution.”

Darkness crept in from the edges of my vision. The last thing I saw was his face, those blue eyes studying me with an intensity that seemed human but not quite—curious yet conflicted.

As consciousness finally slipped away, I made myself a promise. Whoever these people were, whatever they wanted, they’d picked the wrong woman to abduct. I’d survived far worse.

And someone was definitely going to pay for this.