Page 56 of The First Spark (Dynasty of Fire #1)

Machinery chirped a soothing rhythm in Zane’s ears as dull, burning aches dragged his eyes open.

Dim yellow bulbs sparkled in his vision, dangling from a ceiling of grimy metal grates.

Sterile air gusted down. He burrowed deeper under a scratchy gray blanket and tracked a bulb swaying under the vent.

Back and forth, back and forth, as it clinked against its chain of rusted metal beads.

The peaceful rhythm lulled his eyes closed.

There was something to be done, something important, some matter of life and death. He remembered screaming in a cold, bright room. Screaming, because?—

“There’s nothing more we can do.”

Zane jolted upright so fast that fire shot through his neck. Rows of bare metal beds spanned the cavernous room, lit by the dancing glows of flickering bulbs.

In the bed across from him, blankets covered a woman with blonde hair.

He dared himself to stand on trembling legs, dared himself to wobble closer. His pulse thundered a disorienting beat in his ears. Maybe, if he blinked enough, the nightmare would end. It would be different. He wouldn’t have failed again. Any second, she would open her eyes…

But her eyes were closed. Her body was still.

Darkness crowded into the edges of his vision. Shallow breaths rattled in his chest.

With a cry, Zane kicked a towering IV pole. A bag of saline burst against the metal floor, seeping across the steel panels. Pain spiraled through the bones of his bare foot, and fiery agony swirled above his knee.

“Dammit!” The pain was what he deserved, so he slammed his foot into the pole. A wheel burst from its socket. “Fucking dammit !”

As Zane hurled a supply cart to the ground, the crash of metal and clattering instruments added to the rage burning in his heart. He lunged forward, striking the cart again. Agony pulsed through his tender bones. A shard of glass pierced his foot, and he roared, slamming a fist into the wall.

“Zane!” Thudding boots followed Mira’s high, frantic voice. “Zane, calm down!”

“Give me a pulser,” he snarled, yanking the glass out of his foot. She frowned. Breathing heavily, he stormed through the broken supplies. “Dammit, give me a pulser!”

He would avenge her. If it was the last thing he did, he would kill them all. It had happened again , and he’d been powerless to stop it?—

“No.”

He lunged to grip Mira’s shoulders, to shake her until she caved and gave him a weapon, but she shoved him off and he slammed into the wall. Pain pulsed up his spine. A dangerous warning flashed in her tight features, but he didn’t care.

“I’m going to kill them. You wanted me to go to war? You got your wish, now give me a?—”

“Zane?”

The hoarse whisper was so faint he had to be imagining it. He would’ve dismissed it as a cruel trick, but Mira grinned, sauntering past him. Acutely aware of the cut in his foot and the blood pooling on the metal floor, Zane turned.

His heart stopped.

It was a dream. A cruel, warped dream, or some twisted ruse of Mira’s. It had to be.

Kalie coughed, struggling to raise her head.

“Honestly, some people,” Mira clucked. She braced her arm under Kalie’s shoulders and raised a cup of water to her lips. “Shouting and cursing when others are trying to sleep. Even I know how rude that is.”

Zane gaped. His mind had to be playing tricks on him.

Tossing her burgundy braids over her shoulder, Mira quirked an eyebrow at him. “ That is why I told you to calm down.”

Kalie’s coarse gray sheets shifted as she raised her hand, guiding the paper cup away from her lips.

Mira retreated. Water splashed into a sink, but Zane didn’t turn away from Kalie.

Her chest rose and fell, and a crease appeared between her brows as she plucked at an electrode taped below her collar.

“This is a dream,” Zane whispered.

She smiled. “If this was a dream, I think I would’ve picked somewhere nicer.”

A choked laugh broke from Zane’s lips, and he bolted across the room, crashing to his knees beside her. A thin pink line streaked across her cheek, and a few nasty bruises blossomed on her forehead, but the blood was gone. Her wounds were gone.

“How?” he whispered, glancing at Mira.

“Had to fake her death, throw the Feds off your trail. Gar was worried about spies.” Mira squeezed his shoulder. “It was a close call, but you got her to Gar’s people just in time.”

His throat sealed shut. There was something in Mira’s eyes he couldn’t put a name on, but he saw what she was thinking, what she wanted him to hear: You didn’t fail. Not this time.

Seizing Kalie’s cold hand, he brought it to his lips. No trace of her cherry perfume clung to her skin, only the sharp, biting odor of rubbing alcohol and the sterile scent that laced the air of medbays.

But she was smiling. She was breathing. She was alive .

There were so many things Kalie wanted to say— what happened and thank you and I’m glad you made it out —but Zane seemed to be struggling for words, and Mira had retreated with a downcast look on her face.

This wasn’t the time. Not in front of Mira.

If she was here when she was supposed to be on Dali, it was bad.

Kalie cleared her throat. “Where are we?”

Zane collected himself, but he didn’t let go of her hand as he looked at Mira.

“One of Gar’s outposts, in Sector Seven.”

Right—because somehow, Zane and Gar had saved her.

And faked her death? It was all so confusing, and her head was throbbing, but worse was the dread churning in her stomach.

Kalie scanned the dark, empty room. No sign of Mother or Theron, or Sadini or Lida.

She would’ve cried with relief just to see Selene. But none of them were here.

“Mira…” Her voice gave out, and she hugged her arms to her chest. “What happened to my family?”

Mira grimaced. “There’s no easy way to tell you this?—”

“They’re dead,” Kalie breathed, as blood pounded in her ears.

“No. Not…”

Yet , she heard, though Mira didn’t say it.

“They’re fighting back. Your younger brother’s Renish reinforcements arrived, so Carik’s fleets had to fall back and regroup. It gave your father time to organize a defense of Etov, but last I heard, Carik’s destroyers blockaded both stargates.”

“The Emperor won’t be able to hold the system if the Feds control all access points.” Zane snatched a roll of bandages and wound them around his bleeding foot.

Kalie flung the blankets aside. There was no time to rest. Her family had risked their lives to shelter her, and she owed it to them to fight. She would give her life for it—for Dali’s liberation, for Etov’s salvation, for Carik’s downfall .

She tried to stand, but the world spun around her, and nausea sent her crashing onto the lumpy mattress.

Zane clasped her hand. “You need to rest, Kalie.”

“I can’t.” She closed her eyes, braced herself for the nausea, and forced herself to her feet. Blinding pain tore through her right shin, drawing a gasp from her lips. “I have to go, I have to fight.”

“There’s more.”

As Kalie opened her eyes, the light glinting from the grubby bulbs plunged arrows into her throbbing temples. Mira’s closed-off expression and crossed arms raised the hairs on her skin. Her knees wobbled, and she sank onto the bed.

She was vaguely aware of Zane asking a question, but she didn’t look at him.

She couldn’t look away from Mira. A terrifying jumble of nightmares crowded into her mind—blood bursting from wounds in Mother’s chest, Theron’s skewed body amidst the rubble, Sadini screaming as legionnaires descended on her and Lida, Father impaled by a broken beam, Selene fleeing from soldiers chasing her…

“You were betrayed,” Mira muttered.

Kalie’s breath seized. “By whom?”

It could’ve been the shifty Count of Alexandria, or dithering Senator Poltrun, or any of the delegates who’d opposed liberating Dali. But Father trusted them, and their planets were united in hatred of Carik. They wouldn’t have sold her out.

“Your sister.”

Kalie’s jaw dropped.

Selene?

It couldn’t be. Selene hated her, but she loved Mother and Theron. “She’s a jealous brat, but she wouldn’t?—”

“Iliana made Selene the Heredem. I found out too late.”

“She did what ?”

Kalie clutched her head, but gods above, it made sense.

For a throne, her greedy, arrogant, spiteful sister would do anything.

She should’ve seen the signs. The dark bags under Selene’s eyes, her sloppy makeup, her lifeless voice.

Kalie clenched her teeth. When Selene had checked her chrono, she must’ve known the attack was imminent, and she’d abandoned them all anyway .

“Traitor,” she spat.

“That’s not all.”

Mira’s pause hung heavy in the air, but Kalie couldn’t look at her.

She clasped her trembling hands in her lap, forcing herself to breathe.

The room’s sharp, sterile scent flooded her nostrils.

The absence of Dali’s floral aromas or the permanent scent of smoke on Etov was a reminder of how unspeakably wrong everything was.

Not my family. Please not my family.

Or her friends. Or her people.

“Carik’s fleet launched for Dali. It’ll arrive in eight hours.”

Kalie didn’t flinch. She couldn’t move even if she tried.

Eight hours.

She was surely supposed to feel something, but as she stared down at her hands, she felt nothing at all.

Zane swore, and something shattered, but it sounded distant, like it was happening somewhere else.

Anger didn’t burn in her heart, grief didn’t threaten to swallow her whole, vengeance didn’t sing in her blood.

There was only a hollow ache in her chest.

They were supposed to have three days. Not eight hours.

“How many fleets?” Zane’s voice sounded impossibly far away.

“As far as I can tell, one. But that’s thirteen battleships, and you know one of Carik’s ships is worth three of Gar’s.”

Gar . Kalie latched onto the name like an anchor and raised her head.

“Where is he?”

Mira twisted her ring. “He’s meeting with your allies. They’re discussing the next move.”