Page 46

CHAPTER 46

T he interior of the Rovok vessel was utilitarian and dimly lit, humming with the faint vibration of powered containment fields and low-frequency drives. Kyhin strode through the corridors with Sylvia still in his arms, unwilling to part with her for even a moment.

He found Dulahath in the forward hold, where the merchant-mercenary stood waiting, arms crossed, surrounded by his crewmates: hulking beings armored in bone-white plating, each of them bristling with weapons but wise enough not to reach for any.

"You’ve always had a flair for theatrics, Kyhin," Dulahath said dryly, speaking in Urtia—the common trader's tongue. "But even for you, this is excessive."

Kyhin didn’t respond to the jab. He simply shifted Sylvia more securely in his arms.

"You have what I asked for," he said.

Dulahath nodded once, the heavy beads woven through his coarse mane clacking softly. "Aye. No Kroll ships in orbit. They steer clear of Nalgar territories now. Anakris system’s a graveyard to them. You’re lucky, in your way. Crashed far from big population centers. The Nalgar here? Nothing compared to the true warlords.”

Kyhin’s jaw clenched behind his helm.

"They came for me. Or her. "

Dulahath’s gaze flicked to Sylvia, and for a moment, his brow lifted in astonishment. "She’s… human? I thought that was just a rumor."

Kyhin didn’t answer.

Didn’t need to.

He simply growled, low and deep. "She’s mine. That’s all you need to know."

His tone was final. Deadly.

"Anyone who tries to harm her," Kyhin said, "or take her, will learn what it means to be hunted by a Hvrok. To the ends of the universe, Dulahath."

The Rovok raised his hands in mock surrender, half-smirking. "Understood."

His crew wisely said nothing.

"I’ve ordered quarters prepped for her," Dulahath said. "Clean water. Food. Clothing. The dress she’s wearing looks like it was spun from ornamental vines."

"I will accompany her," Kyhin said, glaring coldly through his helm. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t have permitted the Rovok to get away with such insolence, but Sylvia was here, and he didn’t want to show that side of him in front of her—not anymore.

There had been enough violence already.

She should be shielded from the harshness of the Universe at all times.

Dulahath inclined his head. "Of course."

Kyhin shifted his weight. "Do you have a translator?"

Dulahath grunted. "You want to talk to her. Properly."

Kyhin didn’t confirm or deny it. He only stared.

"Latest model from the Majarin trade post," Dulahath added. "Expensive. I’ll add it to your already absurd bill."

"Do it."

"A crew member will bring it to your quarters within the hour."

Kyhin gave a nod.

The other Rovok crew gave him a wide berth as he turned.

He could feel their fear. See it in the way their eyes flicked to Sylvia, then quickly away.

Good.

Let them fear.

It would keep them alive.

And now, with his human cradled against his chest, Kyhin would show her what it truly meant to belong to a Hvrok.

What it meant to be his.