Page 31

CHAPTER 31

S asha

The throne room materializes before me like a nightmare coming to life. My heart slams against my ribs as I take in the scene. Naeve’s iron grip on my arm loosens as we stumble to a halt, Sargul’s ragged breathing behind us mixing with the acrid smell of plasma discharge hanging in the air. My chest constricts with a pain that has nothing to do with my bruised ribs.

Eirik.

My eyes latch on to the hulking form of the Huugwor warrior, kneeling at the back of the room. His blue on blue gaze turns to me in the dim light and I see it the moment his world crumbles as he notices me in the room.

I fucked up. I really did.

My beautiful, fierce warrior is surrounded by Imperial soldiers, a dozen or so blasters aimed straight at his chest. Blood trails down his gray skin from a dozen cuts, turning almost black as it drips onto the stone floor. Despite his wounds, he towers protectively over an injured Rager, his massive frame a last defense against the enemies that circle them. The bodies scattered around him tell the story of the Enforcers’ last stand.

So many. And they all died for nothing.

I make a move to run to him, to throw myself at him despite the danger, but Naeve’s hand tightens on my shoulder.

“Don’t,” she grits between her teeth. “You won’t get far before getting yourself killed.”

Then my eyes travel to the man who holds himself straight, looking our way with the stance of someone who knows they won the fight.

Kendall smirks at me, but he doesn’t wear his usual attire of synth-leather and cotton. No, he’s wearing the crisp black uniform of an Imperial officer.

Traitor.

The insignia on his chest catches the crystal light, and suddenly every suspicious moment slots into place with devastating clarity since he came to work for Sargul almost a year ago.

He played us all.

“Ah, the final guests arrive.” Kendall’s voice slithers across the chamber, dripping with satisfaction. His eyes burn with triumphant malice as they set on me. “And with company, I see.”

Beside me, I feel Naeve tense.

“Who are you, really?” I ask, allowing all of my anger to buoy to the surface.

“Major Kendall Voss, Imperial Intelligence.” He bows with an exaggerated flourish, and my stomach turns. “I must say, playing the part of a common thug was… entertaining. Demeaning, but entertaining.”

“You son of a—” Sargul lunges forward, but Naeve’s hand shoots out, gripping his arm.

Kendall gestures to the soldiers and a dozen blaster rifles turn on us.

“Now, now. Let’s be civil. After all, we’re all here for the same thing, aren’t we?”

His gaze locks onto Eirik. “The Soul Stone. Show me how to use it.”

Eirik remains terrifyingly still as he looks up at Kendall, refusing to speak.

“What? You didn’t think the Empire would tolerate your pathetic resistance forever, did you? The Empire has been watching the Huugwor for some time,” Kendall paces like a predator about to strike. “Such fascinating technology. The ability to harness pure energy, to bind it to living tissue. Imagine what we could do with that power. Imagine the weapons we’ll be able to create using them. No other power will compare to us.”

“The Soul Stones are sacred.” Eirik’s growl echoes off the stone walls. “They’re meant to create, not destroy. They are a tool of life, not war.”

“No?” Kendall laughs, the sound sharp as broken glass. “Oh, but that’s exactly where your pathetic cave-dwelling people are wrong. The Huugwor nation just lacks the vision to see their true potential. With this amount of raw power, the Empire can finally crush the resistance. Not just here on Valcan, but across the galaxy.”

Eirik’s blazing gaze goes from me to Kendall. “You will never learn their secret. There is nothing you could do to me that can change that.”

My throat closes as the magnitude of his betrayal becomes clear. This was never about Sargul’s operation or Lady Ozura’s petty ambitions. We were all just pieces in a game so much larger than our small corner of the galaxy.

“You won’t succeed.” I force the words out, surprised at how steady they sound. “Eirik will never?—”

“Oh, but I think he will.” Kendall’s eyes glitter with cruel delight. “Because he’s Huugwor. Huugwors are too tough to break under torture, but I won’t have to go down that road. Not when I have something he cares about much, much more than his own life.” His gaze slides to me like an oily caress. “I have his mate.”

Eirik’s roar shakes dust from the ceiling as he lunges forward. The sound of multiple blasters charging stops him cold as their muzzles swing toward me. I see the agony in his face, the trembling of his powerful muscles as he forces himself to stay still.

“That’s right.” Kendall’s smile spreads like a wound. “You understand now. But first…” He turns to his soldiers. “Kill Sargul. We don’t need him anymore.”

No! Time slows to a crawl.

The blasters rise in one single motion, like all those Imperial soldiers are parts of the same organism. Naeve’s muscles bunch beside me. She moves faster than I’ve ever seen, her massive frame in between Sargul and the soldiers. The blasters detonate, the impacts throwing her backward into his arms, the sound like thunder in the enclosed space.

Somewhere along the way, I realize I’m screaming.

“No!” The scream tears from my throat, ripping something loose inside me.

“Naeve…” Sargul catches her, cradling her like something precious as they sink to the floor. Blood blooms across her chest like a dark flower, staining his hands crimson. “Why?”

Her fingers trace his cheek with impossible tenderness, leaving scarlet trails on his skin. “Because I love you, you fool.”

The words punch the air from my lungs. How had I never seen it?

“Stay with me.” Sargul’s voice cracks, all his carefully constructed walls crumbling. “Please…”

Her hand falls. Those bright blue eyes that once struck terror into the hearts of Sargul’s enemies grow dim, fixed unseeing on the crystal-lit ceiling. I feel her loss like a physical wound as her wide chest lowers one final time and doesn’t lift again.

“How touching.” Kendall’s voice slices through the silence. “Secure them all. And remember: if the Huugwor tries anything, shoot the girl where it hurts, but don’t kill her.”

Imperial soldiers close in, weapons raised. I look at Sargul, still holding Naeve’s body, his shoulders shaking with grief. I’ve never seen him like this and I can’t look at him much longer, not when he seems split in half by some immeasurable pain. As my gaze shifts to Eirik, his eyes meet mine with a desperation that mirrors the ache in my chest.

We lost. We lost it all. We failed this entire city. This entire planet.

And it’s all my fault.

Then, just as the dark cloud of despair closes in on my head, I notice movement in the shadow, just at the edge of the last blast door. A flash of red and black striped hair.

Maitlin.

Maitlin lifts a single finger to her lips, the gesture barely visible in the darkness. Her other hand grips a military-grade blaster. Her face is set in grim lines, and I know how good a shot she is, but from where she’s hiding, she doesn’t have a clean shot at Kendall. With that many Imperial soldiers in the room, she won’t get a second chance.

I force my expression to remain neutral, keeping my gaze fixed on Kendall even as my pulse races. One wrong look, one telling glance, and I’ll give away her position. There’s no indication that anyone else has noticed her apart from me. Sargul is too absorbed in his grief, holding onto Naeve’s lifeless body despite the ever-growing pool of blood extending beneath her.

Eirik is facing Kendall, his blue on blue gaze on the Imperial officer so intense I’m surprised he doesn’t shoot spikes from his eyeballs.

“Chain him,” Kendall orders, gesturing to Eirik with a casual flick of his hand. “Make sure those restraints are tight.”

Two Imperial soldiers approach with heavy metal shackles. Eirik’s muscles bunch, ready to fight, but Kendall’s blaster presses against my midsection. The cold metal makes me shiver.

“One wrong move,” Kendall purrs, “and your pretty little mate gets a hole in her gut. Not fatal, of course, but I hear a blaster shot to the stomach can be quite… unpleasant.”

A growl builds in Eirik’s chest, but he remains still as the soldiers lock the thick restraints around his wrists and ankles. The chains look almost delicate against his massive frame, but I recognize the distinctive blue sheen of neurosteel, a metal alloy virtually unbreakable and designed specifically to hold beings of extraordinary strength throughout the Empire.

“Good boy,” Kendall mocks, keeping the blaster trained on me as he circles Eirik’s bound form. “See how much easier things are when you cooperate?”

Eirik’s eyes meet mine, filled with such helpless rage that my heart breaks. I want to tell him it’s okay, that this isn’t his fault, but the words stick in my throat.

Finally, Kendall raises his wrist to his mouth, speaking into his commu-link. “Come in. We’re ready for you.”

The sound of heels clicking against stone echoes through the chamber. Lady Ozura emerges from the shadows, her flowing silver robes offering an absurd vision of elegance amid the carnage. In her perfectly manicured hands, she holds something that makes my stomach roil with bile. A Soul Stone, its crystalline surface reflecting the low light in soft pastel hues.

“Well done, Major Kendall.” Her voice carries the smooth confidence of someone who believes they’ve already won. Her dark eyes sweep over the scene from the fallen Enforcers to Naeve’s body in Sargul’s arms, then to Eirik’s barely contained rage. When her gaze lands on me, her painted lips curve into a cruel smile. “I see you even managed to capture the Huugwor’s mate alive. This will make things much easier for both of us.”

Kendall smiles at her, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. I watch as he exchanges a glance with one of the Imperial soldiers behind Lady Ozura.

“Let’s discuss terms, shall we?” Lady Ozura’s voice drips honey-sweet poison as she circles us. Her robes whisper against the stone floor, each step measured and precise despite the distant thunder of artillery fire. The perfect composure of a woman who believes she’s already won. “I have the stone, as promised. Now it’s time the Empire fulfilled its side of the deal. I was promised power over Tartarus and I intend to have it.”

“You won’t get away with this,” I manage, but the words scratch my raw throat, emerging weak and unconvincing.

The blast comes without warning—a flash of red light and the sharp crack of a blaster discharge. Lady Ozura’s perfect mouth forms a small ‘o’ of surprise as she looks down at the ruined bodice of her dress. The Soul Stone slips from her lifeless fingers, hitting the floor with a crystalline chime that echoes through the chamber. Her body crumples like discarded silk, blood spreading beneath her elaborate gown in a grotesque halo.

“Getting real tired of that one.” Kendall shakes his head in apparent relief.

He steps over Lady Ozura’s corpse, crushing her delicate fingers under his boot as he retrieves the Soul Stone. The crystals’ low light highlights the savage satisfaction in his expression.

“The Empire wants to thank you for your help.” He addresses the corpse with mocking formality. “But I’m afraid we will have to renegotiate the terms.”

My stomach lurches as I watch blood seep into the intricate embroidery of her robes. Just moments ago, she’d been so alive, so certain of her victory. Now she’s nothing but another corpse on the Fortress floor, her perfectly applied makeup smeared with her own blood.

It should make me happy. It doesn’t.

“You.” I force the words past numb lips. “You planned this all along. You were always going to kill us all.”

Kendall’s grin stretches wider, revealing teeth that seem too white. Too sharp.

“Give the little thief a prize.” He tosses the Soul Stone in the air, catching it with casual disregard. “Ozura thought she was so clever, working both sides. Never realized she was just another stepping stone. Everyone in this city is an enemy of the Empire and the Empire extends no mercy to its enemies.”

“You can’t mean to kill everyone.” My voice emerges as barely more than a whisper. “There are children in Tartarus. Innocent people.”

His lips curl into that familiar cruel smile. “That’s exactly the point.” He taps the Soul Stone against his palm. “The Empire needs to remind its subjects what happens to those who resist. It’s nothing personal, really. Only business.”

“You won’t win. I won’t let you use me against Eirik.”

I force my expression to remain neutral, keeping my gaze fixed on Kendall even as hope blooms dangerous and wild in my chest. One wrong look, one telling glance, and I’ll give away her position. The stakes are too high for mistakes.

Kendall continues his monologue, completely unaware of Maitlin, slipping ever closer at his back. “The Empire needs examples, and Tartarus will serve nicely. Once we can use the power of the Soul Stones?—”

Maitlin shifts out of the shadows, her blaster raised high, its muzzle aimed at the base of Kendall’s skull.

“You really love hearing yourself talk, don’t you?”