Page 12 of Stolen By the Wraiths (Rift Wraiths #1)

T he burn on his side was an angry red against his bronze skin, the fabric of his shirt scorched away. A wave of possessive fury washed through me, so intense it made my vision swim. Someone had dared to harm what was mine. They would pay.

"It's just a graze," Ressh said, but I saw the tight line of his jaw, the way his muscles bunched as he tried to ignore the pain.

"We'll have Solren look at it on the ship," I said, my voice tight. I pulled him forward, my hand gripping his. "We have to move. Now."

The final corridor to the commercial docking ring was chaos.

Civilian transports were locked down, their crews staring out of viewports with wide, frightened eyes.

Station security, hopelessly outmatched, were exchanging sporadic fire with more of Vain's black-clad soldiers.

We were running directly into a firefight.

"They're trying to pin us here," I realized, my mind racing. "Keep us away from the Raptor's private bay."

"They won't succeed," Ressh said, his determination a solid wall I could lean against.

We didn't have time for stealth. We ran, weaving through abandoned luggage carts and cargo containers. Ressh moved slightly ahead of me, his body a shield, deflecting incoming fire with terrifying precision. I was the navigator, the saboteur, my mind a whirlwind of tactical possibilities.

"The station's comm system!" I yelled over the din of weapons fire. "If I can get to a public terminal, I can broadcast a false emergency on the security channels. Draw them away."

"There," Ressh grunted, pointing towards a public information kiosk fifty meters ahead, right in the middle of the crossfire.

"Cover me," I said, and broke from our path, sprinting towards the terminal.

Plasma bolts sizzled around me, impacting the floor and sending showers of sparks into the air. I saw Ressh plant his feet, his return fire a blistering, disciplined fusillade that forced Vain's soldiers to dive for cover. He was giving me the opening I needed, trusting me completely.

I slammed into the kiosk, my fingers flying across the interface. The public system was a joke, its firewalls pathetically weak. I bypassed them in seconds, gaining access to the station's primary security network and typing a series of commands.

// Priority Alpha Alert: Containment breach in Sector Gamma-7. All available security units respond immediately. Quarantine protocols engaged. //

The message blasted across every security channel on the station. On the terminal's display, I watched as icons representing Vain's soldiers hesitated, their orders suddenly conflicting. Some started to pull back, moving towards Gamma-7.

It was the opening we needed.

"Done!" I shouted, sprinting back towards Ressh. "Let's go!"

We ran for the private docking bay, the sounds of the firefight behind us lessening as my false report sowed chaos.

The hangar door to Bay 7 was visible now, the sleek, predatory lines of the Raptor waiting for us beyond.

The ramp was already lowering. Malrik stood at the top, his feather crest slicked back, a pulse rifle in his hands.

Jessa was in the cockpit, her face a mask of concentration as she kept the ship's engines hot.

We were twenty meters away when a new figure stepped out from behind a stack of cargo containers, blocking our path.

It was Helena Crask, the woman from the lounge.

But she wasn't drunk anymore. Her eyes were cold and sober, and in her hand was a weapon I didn't recognize—a sleek, silver device that hummed with a sickening energy.

"You were a mistake," she said, her voice flat and devoid of emotion. She raised the weapon. "The Director doesn't like loose ends."

Ressh moved to intercept her, but I was faster.

I didn't have time to draw my pistol. I threw the heavy datapad from my belt like a discus.

It spun through the air, catching her square in the face.

She staggered back, stunned, her shot going wide.

The energy bolt hit a nearby power conduit, which exploded in a shower of blue sparks.

That was all the opening Ressh needed. He closed the distance and disarmed her with brutal efficiency, the silver device clattering to the floor.

We didn't wait to see what happened next.

We scrambled up the ramp of the Raptor, the metal cool beneath my hands.

The moment our feet cleared the deck, the ramp began to rise, sealing with a heavy, final thud.

I leaned against the bulkhead, gasping for air, the adrenaline finally beginning to fade.

Through the cockpit viewport, I watched Kairos Station shrink behind us as Jessa pushed the engines to their limit. We had made it. We were safe.

I turned to Ressh. He was looking at me, his amber eyes filled with a mixture of awe, pride, and a raw, possessive hunger that made my breath catch.

He crossed the distance between us in two long strides and pulled me into his arms, his mouth crashing down on mine in a kiss that was all victory, relief, and the promise of a very thorough claiming.

When we finally broke apart, we were both breathless. The rest of the crew gave us a wide berth, their expressions a mixture of relief and amusement. We followed Serak into the briefing room, the adrenaline of the escape giving way to a new, grim tension.

Emergency lighting cast harsh shadows across the assembled crew. The ship hummed around us, the air thick with the scent of ozone and Ressh's protective fury.

"Intelligence intercepts confirm Vain's network is moving faster than we projected," Serak said, his pale Khavai eyes mirroring the holographic displays. "The timeline has collapsed. We have perhaps 48 hours before the Epsilon Facility relocates its... subjects."

The word subjects hung in the air like a curse. Clinical language that stripped away personhood. I'd heard that kind of language before.

"How solid is this intelligence?" Jessa asked from her position near the navigation console.

"Multiple sources, cross-confirmed through surveillance intercepts, financial tracking, and the data core Alix retrieved," Serak replied. "Vain's network is preparing for a major operational shift."

"I cracked the ghost encryption on the core you pulled," Deyric said, not looking up from his console.

His voice was quiet, but it carried the weight of discovery.

"It's not just research data; Vain's team embedded full operational details.

.. and worse." His voice faltered. "They're documenting systematic torture, designed to break natural bonding processes. "

My hands clenched into fists. They were weaponizing love.

"Specifically targeting Tsekai," Serak added grimly. "The data indicates forty-three confirmed subjects currently held in the experimental wings. Living victims."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop. Ressh's reaction was a physical force; his scent sharpened to something that made my teeth ache, and the silver lines at his throat pulsed with a light that betrayed the emotions he fought to control.

"Forty-three," Thoryn said, the rare words holding absolute condemnation.

At that moment, the ship's medic, Solren, stepped forward. "It's worse than torture," he stated, his voice a low rumble. "They're using tailored retroviruses to induce systemic cellular degradation. It's a bioweapon designed to look like psychological trauma."

His words landed with the weight of a death sentence.

"Show me the security footage," I said, my voice tight. "Right now."

Deyric hesitated. "Alix, once you see this, you can't unsee it."

"Show me."

The display shifted, and the images that followed burned themselves into my memory.

Tsekai individuals in containment cells, their silver markings dulled to a gray lifelessness.

Some rocked in corners, others lay motionless.

The worst were the ones actively undergoing procedures, strapped to examination tables.

"Chemical suppressants," Deyric narrated, his voice strained. "Designed to interfere with natural pheromonal production."

I watched, horrified, as one individual writhed against restraints while technicians injected compounds directly into his markings, the silver lines dimming to gray. The final image showed him staring at nothing, his eyes empty.

"How are they replicating this?" I asked, my voice rough.

"They're documenting the process," Serak said grimly. "This is a blueprint for a new kind of weapon."

"A weapon for what purpose?" Jessa asked.

"Control," Ressh spoke for the first time, his voice imbued with a resonance that made the recycled air feel charged. "Break enough bonds, document the process thoroughly enough, and you can threaten any bonded species with targeted psychological warfare."

The implications were staggering. I looked at Ressh and saw my own protective rage mirrored in his expression. But underneath the fury, I could smell the bitter undertones of self-recrimination. He was blaming himself for endangering me.

"What are our infiltration options?" I asked, forcing my voice back to professional calm.

"The protocols have changed," Serak said, displaying the facility's security specs. "They have bio-scanners that read genetic markers, hormonal levels, and neurochemical alignment. Anything less than complete biochemical bonding triggers immediate lockdown."

My stomach dropped. "They can tell if Tsekai bonding is genuine."

"Down to the molecular level," Serak confirmed. "Previous rescue attempts failed. All failed."

The weight of those failures settled over the room. "So we need a genuinely bonded pair to get inside," I said slowly.

"Direct assault means the probable execution of all subjects," Thoryn said bluntly. "Or abandoning the rescue entirely."

"Those aren't really alternatives," I said.

"No," Serak agreed. "They're not."

The weight of 43 lives pressed down on my shoulders. "What would this actually require?"

The room grew quiet.

"A permanent, irreversible, biochemical and neural bond," Deyric said, his voice quiet but firm. "Your body would sync with his—hormone levels, scent recognition, even emotional rhythms. Physical separation would become painful. Your own survival instincts would be rewired to prioritize his."

"It's more than that," Ressh added, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the deck plates. "You'd feel my emotions as if they were your own. My fear, my pain... my love. There would be no secrets between us. Ever."

The explanation chilled me. Not just physical intimacy, but complete biological and psychological transformation.

"So let me get this straight," I said, falling back on sarcasm to mask the terror and want warring in my chest. "You want me to permanently change my brain chemistry, give up my ability to emotionally protect myself, and become biologically dependent on someone else. For the mission."

"For them," Ressh said, gesturing toward the display. "For forty-three people being systematically destroyed while we debate options."

"Right. And the upside for me is what exactly? Besides the warm fuzzy feeling of being a hero."

"The upside," Ressh said, his tone shifting to that rough resonance that made my bones vibrate, "is that you'd never be alone again.

You'd never have to wonder if someone really cared about you or was just using you.

You'd feel, with absolute certainty, that you were valued above everything else in the galaxy. "

The words froze my blood. He'd found the exact center of every fear I'd carried since I was fourteen. The Hendersons had taught me that love was conditional. This would be the opposite—connection so deep it couldn't be broken.

"That's playing dirty," I said, my voice rough.

"It's playing honest," he replied. "You asked what the upside was. That's it. Complete certainty that you matter."

The room was so quiet I could hear my own heartbeat. "And what if I can't handle it?" I asked. "What if the intimacy is too much? What if I try to run and can't because my biology won't let me?"

"Then we'd work through it together," he said simply. "That's what the bond means. Whatever happens, we face it together."

I studied his face, looking for any sign of manipulation. There was none. Just raw honesty and a vulnerability that probably cost him to show.

"You're scared too," I said, and it wasn't a question.

"Terrified," he admitted. "Not of the bonding itself, but of what it might do to you. Of taking away your ability to choose distance if you need it. Of changing you into something you didn't want to become."

His fear was for me. The admission affected me more than his earlier words.

"I've spent my entire life making sure no one could get under my skin," I said. "Building walls that kept me breathing. The people who were supposed to protect me taught me that caring about someone just gave them power to destroy you."

"I know," he said softly.

"Now you're asking me to tear down every defense I have and let you all the way in. To trust you with everything I am."

"I'm asking," he said, "but I'm not demanding. This has to be your choice, Alix. Completely your choice. No pressure, no guilt, no obligation."

I looked around the room at the faces of the crew—Jessa, Thoryn, Malrik, Deyric, even Serak.

They'd become something like family. The kind that stood with you.

Then I looked back at Ressh and saw the desperate, terrified hope in his eyes.

And underneath it, love. Raw, overwhelming love that he wasn't trying to hide.

He was offering me everything he was, with no guarantee I'd do the same.

"I need to think," I said finally.

"Of course," Serak said. "However long it takes."

"How much time do we actually have?" I asked.

"For the bonding process itself? Twelve hours minimum for full integration," Deyric replied. "Realistically, eighteen to twenty-four hours to ensure the biochemical markers are stable enough to pass advanced scanning."

So I had maybe six hours to decide whether to permanently change my brain chemistry and bind myself to another person for life. No pressure at all.

"I need to speak with Ressh privately," I said.

The crew dispersed quietly. As they left, Thoryn paused beside me, placing a steadying hand on my shoulder for a brief moment.

His expressive, reptilian eyes met mine, conveying a silent promise of support before he moved to resume his guard post. It was more comforting than any words could have been.