Page 3 of Zayrik (The Protectorate Warriors Alien Fated Mates #6)

Zayrik

THE MOMENT I LIFTED off, I knew it wasn’t going to be clean .

Station control wasn’t just sending the usual docking warnings. They were scrambling security forces.

I didn’t wait for an official response. Didn’t ask why they were this eager to keep one half-dead thief grounded.

Didn’t care.

Because the moment my ship’s thrusters fired, the alarms started screaming.

‘Unauthorized launch detected. Docking Bay Seven, lockdown initiated.’

I sighed heavily . Of course it is .

A firm voice cracked over the comms. “Vessel, you are in violation of station flight protocol. Power down and prepare to be boarded.”

I flipped a switch, cutting the comms.

Not happening.

Something in my gut, maybe the same instinct that kept me alive on covert missions, was screaming that handing her over wasn’t just a bad call. It’d be a betrayal. Of her. Of myself. Of the kind of man I swore I’d be.

I SLAMMED THE THROTTLE forward. The ship shuddered, groaning as she pushed against the station’s automated docking clamps.

“Come on,” I muttered.

A violent snap rattled through the ship as the clamps gave, sending us lurching forward. The sudden momentum jerked my injured passenger.

She shifted with a weak murmur, but didn’t wake.

I didn’t have time to check her.

A targeting lock flashed red on my display.

Then the first shot hit.

The whole ship lurched as a direct blast slammed into the rear shields.

Son of a—

I twisted the controls, forcing the ship into a sudden roll as the second shot streaked past, too damn close .

So, this wasn’t a warning barrage. This was a kill order.

My pulse quickened. The heat in my biceps flared, intensifying my resolve.

I’d been in worse spots before, even without a mission’s structure. There was no backup. Just me, an unfamiliar ship, and an unconscious female bleeding out in my cockpit.

Katar Station’s security forces were not standard. They weren’t just local enforcers. They were hitting hard.

I had my answer.

She wasn’t just any thief.

Who the hell are you, thief?

I kicked the engines to max burn, twisting hard to avoid another blast. The ship groaned like she was about to fly apart. She wasn’t built for this kind of maneuvering.

I took a fast inventory. Damaged shields, no weapons worth mentioning, and a navigation system running on old data.

This ship was not built for combat. But neither was the first ship I ever flew.

I twisted hard into a tight bank, scraping past the outer hull of a freighter. The security fighters had to adjust, splitting formation to avoid collision.

I took the gap.

The station’s outer defenses were coming online too quickly . No way they got clearance to shoot me this quick. Meaning someone had pulled strings. Someone wanted her dead .

My decision not to turn her over to them seemed increasingly justified.

The next round of cannon fire streaked past.

A loud warning blared through my console. ‘ Damage to rear stabilizer. Power loss detected.’

I growled. Flutzing perfect.

I gritted my teeth, scanning the closest jump points. No way I was making a clean jump in this condition.

We were limping.

And if I didn’t lose them now , we weren’t going to make it anywhere.

I flipped three switches, rerouting all remaining power to forward thrust. The stabilizer protested, but the ship moved . Faster than they expected.

The jump point was just in range. One shot at making it. The targeting lock screamed.

Another incoming blast.

I twisted hard, burning every ounce of speed we had left, punching us straight into the jump.

The stars ripped sideways.

Finally, silence.

No alarms. No weapons fire.

We were free .

For now.

I exhaled slowly. The ship wasn’t dead, but she was damn close .

I finally turned my head, taking in the thief sprawled across my bunk. She hadn’t moved.

Tension made me roll my shoulders. That stunt could’ve killed us both. But my gut had been right, turning her over would have meant her death. Whatever she’d done, whoever she was, station security hadn’t been interested in justice.

I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling quickly. “You better be worth all this trouble, thief.”

A weak murmur broke the silence. Then... her eyes flickered open, disoriented.

Time to get some answers.