Page 21

CHAPTER 21

T he door sealed with a hiss.

She was inside.

Alone. Contained. His .

He remained outside.

At first, simply to listen. Just for a moment.

But then, he heard it.

At first, it was nothing. Shifting fabric. The soft patter of bare feet on composite flooring. A breath.

Then another.

But this one hitched.

Strange , soft sounds followed: fragmented, rhythmic. Gasping. Moaning.

He stilled.

His body went still in the way only a Hvrok warrior could still—utterly locked, breath suspended, senses sharpened to surgical focus.

What was she doing?

A quiet wail slipped through the sealed door.

Then sniffing.

Then—moaning again. But not like before.

He did not believe it was pleasure. No, this was something else. Something deeper. Sorrowful .

The sound grew louder. Raw, ragged.

Then softened. Faded.

Until at last, it stopped.

He stood unmoving, pulse steady, trying to make sense of the storm he’d just heard from the other side of the wall.

Was that… sadness?

Was that what sadness sounded like, to a human?

He’d never heard one mourn like that.

Not even on the auction floor, where bodies were sold, minds broken, lives extinguished by bids and numbers. He had seen them scream. Seen them rage. Even seen tears.

But this?—

This hurt .

It carried a resonance that touched something he could not define.

She wasn’t in danger. He would have known.

She was not afraid.

Not anymore.

She was grieving.

Processing.

And suddenly, impossibly, part of him wanted to go to her .

To open the door. Step inside. Place a hand on her shoulder. Speak in low tones, even if she would not understand them.

Comfort her.

The word lodged in his chest like a foreign object.

No creature had ever compelled him toward such a gesture. Not comrade. Not ally. Not lover.

No one.

And yet…

His hand drifted to the panel.

No.

He clenched his jaw.

This was not how it was supposed to be.

He was her master, not her solace. He would not harm her—but he would not coddle her, either. She would learn that discipline and obedience could bring stability. Safety.

He was not cruel.

But he was firm .

And still, the thought returned?—

Go to her.

Touch her. Let her know she is not alone.

He stared at the door, caught in the moment.

And then?—

The comm alert chimed sharply in his helmet.

A priority code.

He blinked. Refocused.

A flashing sigil strobed across his visor.

Kroll.

Pursuit vessels. Now .

He exhaled once through the respirator, purging the soft scent of her from his filters.

The air turned cold again. Sterile. Sharpened by the scent of duty.

He turned.

And stalked toward the cockpit.