Page 42 of Stars in Umbra (The Sable Riders #8)

A Conviction Forged In Fire

MOLAN

‘ M irage, your ride is a remarkable, freakish, black-winged ghost; it’s making me yearn to ask Kainan for one just like this.’

‘Do it. This baby is engineered for covert insertion and intense-risk retrieval. Refitted with triple-tier cloaking panels and near-silent propulsion, and calibrated for the ragged mountain pinnacles and hostile territory we are headed for.’

They were en route to the Thrall Estate, nestled in the peaks of the Trossachs, with the codes required to bypass the high-security shield in stealth mode.

Mo admired the ship’s sleek design, the seamless flow of its plating that seemed to absorb the light.

‘I’ll consider it,’ he said, a half-smile on his face. ‘My current ride is good, but it’s more of a blunt instrument. This, however, is a precision tool.’

On the bridge, Mirage sat in the pilot’s seat, her grip steady on the manual dials.

Rina was in the XO position, her fingers flying across a console as she ran a final diagnostic review of the stealth systems.

Mo was upright in the ops station behind them, the hum of the deck a familiar comfort against his spine.

As they flew closer to their destination, he conducted a sweep of cloaking, altitude, and signal suppression, moving fast over the operating holo pad.

At some point, he stretched, relishing the feel of his tension releasing.

The ache in his shoulders and back had dulled to a throb, a constant reminder of his fall from the skies and the strain of rapid healing.

He welcomed the pain; it kept him alert, preventing him from getting lost in his thoughts, from brooding about the Sacran legacy that burned beneath his skin.

Across the cabin, Rina sat in silence, her posture composed, her gaze fixed on the high-altitude weather display.

None of the trio wasted words, lost in the quiet rhythm of preparation and the unspoken gravity of what lay ahead.

As the Corvette crested the final ridge above the eastern continent’s Trossachs Mountains, the world opened up into wild, brutal beauty.

Peaks clawed at the sky, their spines dusted with snow.

Mist clung to the valleys like ancient breath, and thick forests surged over the earth like emerald waves.

Somewhere, hidden deep in that wilderness, was the Thrall Estate.

The vessel banked to the left.

Mirage activated the stealth glide, the ship falling into a near-silent hover as she cloaked them with a swipe of her fingers.

‘This is it,’ she murmured, bringing the ship’s holo screen to life.

Intel feeds flickered into view, with schematics, thermal overlays, and pulse-mapped terrain.

‘Ten thousand acres of curated remoteness,’ Mirage continued.

‘Where grandeur meets isolation. The castle has its own private beach, tennis courts, three pools, and outhouses. Plus a spa and gym. Even an internal magrail for transport between the wings. It’s a citadel, with enough surveillance redundancy to put most defense compounds to shame. ’

She zoomed in on a cluster of structures nestled near the estate’s core. ‘They don’t host guests often. Additionally, they don’t do rentals; the estate is reserved for the Thrall family. Caidan, his wife Raina, and their four children.’

Mo leaned forward, elbows on knees, eyes narrowed. ‘Weak points?’

Mirage gave a small, grim smile. ‘A few. Their security’s top-tier, but patterned.

I identified a shift rotation every few hours.

Eight guards are assigned to each sector, primarily stationed on the perimeter.

Inner wings are wrapped in motion sensors, which are passive and not reactive.

It means they expect to know who’s inside at all times.

Internal sensors are heavier near the west wing, likely the primary residence. ’

All day, they hovered above, cloaked and silent, running long-range scans and tracking patrol rhythms.

They logged everything: entry routes, power sources, and security guard shifts.

Mo slipped into surveillance mode with disturbing ease.

His killer intellect could catalog every vulnerability, each blind spot.

He remembered a few of his Six Flaco’s old missions as the sun crawled across the sky.

The kills. The aftermath. The breathless deaths and ice-cold orders.

Fokk . Guilt gnawed at him.

Not just for what he’d done, but for how good he’d been at it.

He glanced at Rina, who was hunched over the recon scope, silent.

Her presence soothed him, but it also deepened the ache inside his soul.

A suffocating remorse clenched his chest.

The Riders might have offered him their absolution, as Rina had, but he wasn’t sure he might ever accept it.

He doubted he would ever find it in himself to forgive, let alone forget, the man he once was.

He shoved the thought away, burying it deep beneath the mission’s demands, a dark corner of his mind where he’d deal with his crippling self-recrimination later.

Then her hand found his.

He glanced up to meet Rina’s eyes and melted at the warm compassion within.

Shea didn’t say anything for a long time; she only curled her fingers around his, firm and steady.

‘Baby, redemption,’ she murmured, ‘doesn’t come from what you did. It comes from how you choose to live next.’

He jolted, startled by how well she’d read his mind, then kissed the back of her hand in appreciation.

He was grateful for the wisdom with which she spoke and recognized the quiet truth in her gaze.

It was not based on blind hope, nor effortless grace.

It appeared to come from a conviction forged in fire.

Mo glanced down at her hand, still folded over his.

Still, his reservations, some so old and warped inside him, began to creep in, and he sighed.

RINA

Rina moved away from Mo, back to her station, where she pressed her palm to her head.

She took an inhale as the anti-nausea medication she had taken took effect.

She’d bought them, with discretion, from a pharmacy in New Rambasa before they’d left.

The biliousness settled, at least enough for her to move without that tight churn of sickness behind her ribs.

However, the butterflies remained.

Not in her stomach but in her chest, throat, and her damn heart.

Last night, while Mo slept beside her, she gave herself a talking-to, facing her fears and doubts head-on.

It helped her shift from selfish ‘me’ thinking to reflecting on her little one.

The paradigm change was significant and calming.

She had also found a first mum’s site on SysNet and was trying to absorb as much as she could about pregnancy.

She wouldn’t decide how to proceed until she was informed 100% about what was coming.

She sliced a discreet glance at Mo, sensing his reticence.

He was too quiet and brooding.

He sat in the shadowed alcove beneath the viewport on the ops deck of the Corvette, his gaze fixed on the estate far below.

His worry about the operation pulsed through him.

It manifested in the pulse of his golden sigils, the furrow of his brow, his tense shoulders, too-careful breathing, and the slight tic of his jaw.

She understood his concern and hoped he would not be too hard on himself if things went wrong, and that he would trust her to be by his side.

Minutes later, Rina padded into the Corvette’s internal med bay, the soft whoosh of the door sealing behind her like a pact.

Her fingers flew over the touchscreen, keying in an override code obtained via Kainan, given her seniority in the UGM.

A privacy shield pulsed around the room, no data in, no signals out.

Not even Mirage was able to penetrate it.

She slid onto the diagnostic chair and rolled up her sweatshirt, revealing the swell of her belly.

It was still too early for a bump, but her body was different, softer and rounder, as it created room for this precious treasure within.

The ultrasound panel activated with a hum, the scan wand gliding across her skin with practiced precision. In seconds, the screen flickered to life, grainy at first, then clear, detailed, impossibly vivid.

‘Oh my,’ she murmured. This was her child. Her baby.

The device beeped with stats.

Each one confirmed the fetus was healthy.

Not only that, thriving.

Every biological marker was at above-average levels, ranging from strength to neural responsiveness, bone density, and cardiovascular rhythm, all of which were elevated.

Her inhalation hitched.

Then came the thread of light, luminous, delicate, drifting over her skin in a slow ripple.

A thin corona of golden energy whipped around her belly, shimmering like stardust caught in gravity’s breath.

She stiffened.

‘ Fokk me,’ she whispered. Not out of fear, but awe.

She wasn’t carrying the child of a mortal man.

The scan faded, and she wiped down the wand with trembling hands.

Blinking tears away, she shut the system down just as she caught footsteps outside the bay.

The heavy, familiar tread sent an arc of panic through her.

She killed the privacy shield and slid open a drawer, rifling in it just in time to be discovered mid-search.

Mo’s silhouette filled the doorway, broad and warm. ‘Searching for something, mi kaya ?’

‘A headache tablet,’ she muttered, not meeting his eyes, hating the lies and subterfuge.

He stepped inside, took one look at her flushed face and unshed tears, and crossed the room.

His hands framed her face, rough thumbs brushing her temples, kneading, sending bliss through her.

‘Too much thinking, my love?’ he murmured, kissing her brow. ‘You need to let me massage it out of that fine head of yours.’

The tenderness and timing of it were overwhelming.

She almost crumbled right then and shared her secret.

Her arms slipped around his muscled torso, pulling him close, fingers sliding down to his ass and gripping tight as she nuzzled into the crook of his neck.

The scent of him, a blend of cologne, clean skin, and his male musk, so primal and heady, filled her lungs like oxygen.

He chuckled, the sound reverberating through her. ‘Easy, woman. You keep touching me like that, and I’ll forget we’re on a mission.’

She laughed through the emotion pressing at her throat, blinking fast to hold it at bay.

His quip, small, intimate, and well-timed, reminded her again why she was falling for him, why a possible future with him mattered.

Before she had a chance to respond, Mirage’s voice crackled over the intercom.

‘Team, you’ll want to see this.’

They pulled apart with reluctance, walking side by side to the bridge.

Rina’s secret remained tucked safely between her ribs, growing stronger by the hour.

But first, the mission.

In the cockpit, Mirage stood near the central console, her tone clipped, the overlay of high-speed scrolling data lighting up her face.

‘A holo feed just came in from our perimeter scan. I’ve spotted increased movement at the southern service wing. Temporary structures are being raised. Catering teams are inbound. A series of prominent-profile transport bookings confirmed for private airspace tomorrow night.’

Mo lifted a brow. ‘The guards at the tavern must have been referring to this event.’

Mirage nodded. ‘ Naam , the Highland Memorial Ball. Hosted by Thrall every year. It has an elite guest list. Art dealers, antique arms traders, politicians, aristocrats, and a few off-world celebrities with questionable reputations. The theme is Fine Masterpieces and the Hunting, although to be honest, this is Caidan Thrall’s little festival of ego and excess.

The attendees wear vintage furs and flaunt century-old blades.

You know, blood sport with a side of orchestras and chandeliers. ’

Rina exhaled. ‘How about access?’

‘The event is the one night the Estate Security relaxes the shields as guests fly in and out. Surveillance is elevated but scattered. It’s the best shot we’ve got at slipping in and getting evidence of what Thrall is up to.

I can provide a fake ID, an entire wardrobe to match, and wearable tech for eavesdropping, all per standard Rider infiltration protocols. ’

Mo turned to Rina, his eyes highlighted by the bronze radiance bleeding through the hull windows. ‘You should be the one to go in.’

She blinked. ‘Me?’

‘You’re a stunning woman, trained in incursions, intel recovery, and combat diplomacy.

You also can wear the hell out of a dress that turns heads,’ he rasped.

‘I’ll be your unseen backup, I’ll stealth in behind you in armor and always have an eye on you.

Mirage can scramble the scanners and run extraction protocols from the ship. ’

Rina took an inhale. ‘Makes sense. I’ll do it, for the cause.’

Mirage inclined her head. ‘I’ll glimmer to Eden II. Get what we need. I’ll be back before zero-two-hundred.’

She vanished in a ripple of light.

Silence returned to the Corvette.

The mountain air outside had turned purple-blue with dusk, the ridge lines casting long shadows across the glassy loch below. Rina crossed the deck to where Mo sat.

He looked tired.

More than that, he appeared closed off.

‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.

‘Don’t want you inside with Thrall. From what we know, fokk what we think he did to me, he’s a serpent. You going near him is giving me hives.’

She tracked to him and knelt before him, cupping his jaw with both hands and lifting his gaze to hers.

‘We’ve got this, honey,’ she whispered. ‘You’ve got my six, and the second I’m not safe, you’ll come for me, won’t you?’

‘Of course. I still feel like shit about it.’

‘Why don’t I take your mind away from your brooding?’

She muttered the words while leaning in to place a soft, sensual kiss on the edge of his lush lips.

His breath caught.

His embrace came to her hips, then her back, pulling her close as if anchoring himself.

She kissed him, a slow, deep exploration.

Her lips pressed over his with a wordless promise, her fingers threading into the hair at his nape, a gentle tug that made his head fall back.

He exhaled, desire unraveling in him like an uncoiled thread, the sound a ragged groan.

They moved together in silence, their footsteps muffled by the ship’s tranquil hum.

She led him back through the confined corridors of the corvette, into the quarters tucked at the aft end.

The bed was spacious, and they fell into it, reaching for each other.

She undressed, eyes locked with him, her entire body pulsing with need.

His touch was almost hesitant, as if she might vanish under his fingers.

She answered him with a feverish intensity, her mouth taking his in a kiss of pure need.

Mo’s hands were reverent, his lips a study in want, his whispers a mix of Sacran plus the murmurs and groans of a man undone.

He pressed against her, a solid, anchoring weight in the intimate space.

They made love beneath the shadowed curve of the hull, every caress worshipful, each breath a silent vow.

The cloaked gunship hovered in the stillness of a sleeping sky.

While below, the lights surrounding Thrall Estate glimmered, its residents unaware that a reckoning had already begun.