Page 25 of Zayrik (The Protectorate Warriors Alien Fated Mates #6)

Zayrik

THE DOCKING CLAMPS locked into place with a dull thud, the sound echoing through the ship like a countdown. Like a warning.

I pushed up from my seat, rolling my shoulders, trying to ignore how my mind still hummed with awareness of her. With the need to protect.

Nyla didn’t move right away. Her eyes stayed fixed on the station outside, lips pressed into a tight line. Like she was bracing for something. Like she was remembering things she’d rather forget. The look in her eyes made something in my chest tighten, protective, and possessive, aware.

I understood that feeling all too well. Coming back to places you’d left behind was rarely simple, especially when you’d left for a reason. When you’d carved yourself new scars just to escape.

“You’re not going to like him,” she said, her voice carrying an edge I was starting to recognize. The one that meant she was worried about more than she was saying.

That got a reaction out of me. Made something warm settle in my chest despite the tension. “Didn’t think I was going to like anyone here.” Anyone who knew her before. Anyone who might have let her down.

She hit the hatch controls, and the ramp lowered with a hydraulic hiss. The sound felt final. Like crossing a threshold, we couldn’t step back from.

The moment we stepped out, I felt it. That change in her energy. The significance of going back to a place she hadn’t expected to see again. My body responded to her tension, to the way she held herself like she was ready for anything.

The station air hit us first, recycled, stale, carrying hints of machine oil and desperation. The kind of place where secrets went to die. Where people disappeared without questions being asked.

I shifted slightly closer to Nyla, not touching, but close enough that my presence would register.

Close enough to react if needed. The warrior in me cataloged escape routes, defensive positions, potential threats.

The mate in me focused entirely on how her breath caught when we stepped onto the deck.

How her fingers twitched toward where I knew she kept her blade.

I felt the way she held herself like she was expecting a fight. Like she was remembering how to be the person this place had made her.

Then....

“Well, I’ll be damned, kid. You didn’t die after all.” The voice held authority. History.

A familiarity that made my instincts sharpen, that made me want to step between them. But I held back, watching. Learning.

Nyla turned toward the voice, a smirk tugging at her lips, but I caught the slight tremor in her hands. The way her pulse jumped. “Not for lack of trying.”

He stood just past the docking zone arms crossed, stance casual but ready. Eyes keen despite the gray threading through his dark hair. Older, worn, but still dangerous. The kind of man who didn’t need to show off to remind people he could take them apart. The kind who’d taught Nyla to survive.

I stepped up beside her, letting my presence settle into place. Not possessive, but clear. Unmistakable.

The old Merc’s gaze flicked to me. Then back to her. Assessing. Calculating. Then, he grinned, the expression making him look both more dangerous and more human.

“Happy you finally settled down and let someone take care of you, kid.”

The words hit something in my chest. Something that recognized the truth in them, even as Nyla bristled.

She groaned. “Not this. Not today, Cal.” But I caught the undertone in her voice. Not denial, just deflection. Like she wasn’t ready to acknowledge what was growing between us. Not here. Not with someone who knew her before.

I hummed low in my throat, watching her get flustered. Enjoying it more than I should. “Is that why you were checking the ship logs so much?” I mused. “Making sure my name was next to yours?”

Her head whipped toward me, eyes narrowed. The look should have been a warning, but all I felt was heat, and pride. And something possessive that made my blood run warm.

Cal just laughed, the sound knowing. “Oh, I like him.”

I liked how she responded to me. How something in her reached for me even when she was trying to maintain distance.

He uncrossed his arms, nodding toward the ship, but his eyes never stopped assessing. Never stopped watching how we moved in relation to each other. “So, you running jobs again, or did you finally piss off someone with real reach?”

The question changed everything. Brought reality crashing back.

I felt Nyla tense beside me, felt the shift in her energy from annoyed to alert.

She sighed, but it wasn’t just exhaustion in her voice. It was resignation. Fear. “Second one.”

I muttered, “Biggest understatement of the year.” Because calling Vask ‘someone with reach’ was like calling a supernova a warm day.

Cal’s grin faded, and I watched him transform. From gruff mentor to something harder. More dangerous. “Who?”

She hesitated, and I felt her struggle. Not because she didn’t trust him. But because once she said it, there was no taking it back. No pretending this was just another job gone wrong. My hand twitched toward her, wanting to offer support, to remind her she wasn’t facing this on her own.

“Vask.”

The name hung in the recycled air like a death sentence. Like a challenge.

Cal’s expression didn’t flicker. But something cold settled in his eyes. Something that spoke of old wounds and older grudges.

“Shit,” he muttered.

“Finally, someone with the right reaction,” I said dryly. But underneath my tone was relief. Because this man understood. Knew exactly what kind of monster we were dealing with.

“You should’ve come to me sooner, kid.” There was history in those words. Regret. The kind of care that made my protective instincts stir, even as I recognized it as genuine.

“Didn’t plan on living long enough to need the backup.” Her voice was steady, but I felt the truth in it like a physical blow. Felt what it meant, that before me, before us, she’d been ready to die fighting him.

Never again, something in me growled. Protecting her wasn’t a matter of duty. It had everything to do with the way my soul recognized hers.

“How bad is it?” Cal asked, but his eyes said he already knew. Already understood that this wasn’t just another close call.

She didn’t answer with words.

Didn’t need to.

Her fingers slipped into her jacket and pulled out the small, unassuming crystal she hadn’t let go of since this began. The one I’d watched her guard like it was worth more than her life.

I’d seen her sleep with it. Eat with it. Move with it like it was part of her. Like it was both salvation and damnation wrapped in tech and crystal.

She stepped forward and held it in her hand, but she didn’t speak. Didn’t need to. The crystal’s meaning was clear to us all.

My mind buzzed with her tension, to the magnitude of what was coming. To the knowledge that after this, nothing would be the same.

Cal let out a slow breath, and I watched years of experience and wariness settle into his features. “Don’t tell me that’s what it looks like.”

My voice cut in. “It’s the reason Vask won’t stop hunting her.” The reason I won’t let him find her, I didn’t add. But my stance shifted closer to her, protective without caging.

He glanced around, sudden wariness in every movement. The kind of careful that came from surviving too many betrayals. “Not here.”

He led us through a side passage, tighter and less trafficked. The kind of route someone takes when they’re used to avoiding attention. We reached a reinforced door with a security lock. Cal keyed in a code, movements practiced, subtle.

“No surveillance in here,” he said as we entered the small room. “This place stays off the books.” Like him. Like the secrets he kept.

Inside, he turned to Nyla, and I watched his facade crack just slightly. “You got any idea what you’re holding?”

“Every connection in Vask’s network,” she said, voice steady. “Every corrupt official, black market dealer, assassin. Everyone who helped him destroy lives.”

But Cal shook his head, and something in my gut tightened at his expression. “It’s more than that. That crystal is the key to his entire operation. Shipping routes. Security overrides. Even the leverage he holds over people, names, recordings, blackmail files. All of it.”

The atmosphere grew thick with unspoken meaning with each revelation of just how deep this went.

“With that crystal,” Cal continued, “someone could take him down... or take his place.”

My temper flared at the implications, at the danger surrounding her. At how close she’d come to being caught with this.

“I don’t want his operation,” Nyla snapped. “I just want him gone.” The words carried years of running, of survival, of nightmares I’d only glimpsed in her unguarded moments.

“Good,” Cal replied, but his eyes were grim. “But he doesn’t care what you want. He cares that you can ruin him.”

Nyla didn’t say a word. She just stared at the crystal like it was something that might burn her if she held it too long. Like she was finally seeing the full scope of what she carried.

And maybe it would burn her. Maybe it already had.

I watched the tension build behind her eyes. The way her fingers curled around the edge of her jacket. Signs I’d learned to read, to understand. Signs that said she was about to do something either brilliant or dangerous.

Usually both.

Cal was right. This wasn’t just about a bounty anymore. This was war. Quiet, targeted, and bloody. And she was the one carrying the fuse.

The one being hunted.

Though neither of us knew just how close that hunter was.

“I can’t keep it,” she said finally, her voice even.

Cal frowned. “What do you mean?”

Her gaze flicked to me.

Not defensive. Not reluctant.

Just... resolute.

Like she’d made a decision that terrified and steadied her all at once.

She crossed the room, stepped into my space, and pressed the crystal into my palm. The heat of her fingers lingered on my skin.

“You keep it.”

The damn thing felt like it carried the burden of not just data, but lives. Futures. Her safety.

“Nyla—”

“I’m not asking,” she cut in. Her voice shook. “If they catch me, they’ll search me first. And they’ll expect it to be on me.”

I was trained to follow orders. Serve the Protectorate. Stay detached.

But this? This wasn’t duty.

This was her choosing me.

This was trust in its purest, most dangerous form.

I stared down at the tiny data crystal. So small. So ordinary looking. And yet it held the power to bring down a network so dangerous, so widespread, it had nearly consumed her whole.

I curled my fingers around it, meeting her gaze. “This doesn’t make you safer, Nyla.” If anything, it made her more vulnerable. Made her a target without protection.

“No,” she agreed, “but it makes the mission safer. And I trust you.”

Despite their simplicity, those words hit me like a physical force.

She trusted me.

After everything, after every secret, every guarded glance, every near-kiss and regret and brush of something more... she trusted me. Enough to hand over her only leverage. Her only protection.

Our bond responded to what this meant. To the depth of what she was offering.

I nodded once, letting the moment settle between us. “Then I’ll guard it with my life.” And her with it, I didn’t add. But she heard it anyway.

I saw it in the way her eyes gentled. In the slight catch of her breath.

The words echoed through my mind like a vow already sealed in blood. I hadn’t meant to think it so loudly, but I knew I meant every word.

She exhaled, and something in her expression softened. Just a little. It was as if a burden she’d been carrying was finally lifted.

Cal cleared his throat. “Well, isn’t this touching. I’d cry if I weren’t completely dead inside.”

Nyla snorted despite herself. I didn’t smile, but I stepped in front of her, shielding her from the rising tension already brewing behind Cal’s words. From threats we couldn’t yet see.

“What’s next?” I asked him, keeping my body angled to protect her, even here. Even now.

Cal hesitated, a flicker of calculation in his eyes. “You’ll need a new ship. And a clean signal ID. Whatever route you had in mind, burn it. You’ve been tracked once. You’ll be tracked again. I’ll help where I can.”

I nodded, mentally strategizing. “We’ll need time. And somewhere secure to lie low while we search.”

Someplace I could keep her safe.

Someplace we could breathe.

Cal tilted his head. “I might have something. Not comfortable, but it’ll keep you out of sight.”

When his gaze slid between us, there was something knowing in it. Like he saw more than just fugitives. More than just survival.

He moved toward the console, and Nyla shifted closer.

Close enough that I felt her body heat.

Felt the faint tremor in her energy that spoke of exhaustion, trust... and an unspoken, unacknowledged depth.

“You okay?” I kept my voice low, just for her. Watched the way she struggled with the answer.

“No,” she said, honest in a way she rarely allowed herself to be. “But I’m still standing.”

I reached down, fingers brushing hers. A touch that meant more now than it would have days ago. Before the storage bay. Before the crystal. Before everything changed.

“Then so am I.”

She looked at me like she wanted to say something more—

But didn’t.

Like the words were too big, too fragile for this place

And I didn’t push.

Not when everything between us was still so raw.

Not when she’d already given me more trust than I ever expected.

We weren’t out of danger.

If anything, we were walking deeper into it with every breath.

But we were together.

And the crystal in my pocket?

It wasn’t just a mission anymore.

It wasn’t just data and leverage and power.

It was personal.

Because anything that threatened her, threatened us.

Whatever came next, I knew one thing for sure—

I would be at her side.

For now, that was enough.

For now, we had this quiet between storms.

This growing thing neither of us had asked for...

But both of us needed.

And I intended to be worthy of it.

Worthy of her .