Page 30 of Zayrik (The Protectorate Warriors Alien Fated Mates #6)

Nyla

I OPENED THE DOOR. Cal stood there. Jaw tight. Eyes piercing.

I knew that look.

Had seen it before, when things went sideways.

When survival meant running.

Trouble.

My stomach dropped. The last trace of Zayrik’s warmth vanished under the chill of reality.

“Don’t tell me it’s—”

“It is,” he said grimly. The words carrying history, and the knowledge of exactly who was coming.

Behind me, Zayrik was already moving. Shirtless, half-dressed, but deadly alert. Ready. The warrior replacing the lover in smooth, practiced motions. But through our growing bond, I felt his fear. Not for himself.

For me.

Cal’s gaze flicked to him, then back to me. Something knowing in his expression, something that said he saw too much. “I’ll cover your backs,” he muttered. “But you need to get out. Now.”

My pulse spiked.

The peace of moments ago shattered like glass.

I turned toward Zayrik. He was watching me, quiet and deadly. Waiting for my call. Trusting me even now, even as everything fell apart.

“How much time?” I asked, as my body moved on autopilot, reaching for weapons, for armor, for everything I’d hoped I wouldn’t need so soon.

“Minutes,” Cal said. “Maybe less.” The grimness in his voice made my blood run cold.

Zep trilled from a nearby chair, picking up on the tension like he always did. I reached for him without thinking, needing to feel his tiny body, the comfort of his loyalty. He clambered up, tucking beneath my jacket and settling around my shoulder like he belonged there.

Zayrik was already strapping on his weapons, calm precision in every movement. Protectorate-trained. Born for war. But through the bond, I felt it, the flare of his rage. Protective. Possessive. Lethal.

We go for the ship ,” he said. “Fast.” His voice was steady, but in my mind, I caught the edge of his fear.

Not of the fight.

Of losing me.

I nodded, grabbing my jacket and the last of my gear. The crystal was already with Zayrik. Tucked safe, where it needed to be. That thought steadied me. At least I’d done one thing right.

Nav’s icon blinked once on the nearest console. Like a digital eye-roll, before he vanished from my wristband. Giving me space, or pretending he wasn’t emotionally invested.

Classic.

He was quiet. Probably scanning escape vectors. Or calculating odds I didn’t want to know.

We headed for the ship. Barely reaching the cockpit.

And that’s when the stations comms crackled to life.

Not a distress signal. Not a warning.

Just a voice.

Smooth. Mocking. Familiar in the worst possible way.

The kind of voice that haunted nightmares.

“Miss me, Nyla?”

I froze. My knuckles went white where I gripped our ships console. Through our bond, I felt Zayrik’s fury spike, felt how badly he wanted to tear apart whoever could make me sound so afraid.

He shifted beside me. Didn’t speak. Didn’t ask.

He knew.

Could feel my terror like it was his own.

He was there for me, a steady presence, refusing to leave me to face this alone.

Vask’s voice dripped venom through the speakers.

“Nothing to say? I expected more fight from you.”

“Go to hell.” The words came out steady, but inside I was screaming. Remembering. Feeling everything I’d run from catch up at last.

His laugh slithered through the comm. Cruel, and familiar. The sound made something inside me crack, and made old scars burn.

“We both know that’s not where you’re going, Nyla.”

Zayrik stepped in close. A wall of heat and steel behind me. Silent, dangerous. Ready to gut anyone who came near me. Through our bond, his protective rage burned like a star, making my body tingle in response. Making it harder to do what I knew I had to do.

But Vask hadn’t come to negotiate.

He never did.

The comms cut.

Silence.

Oppressive. Waiting. The kind that came before blood.

Then —

THUD.

A deep, metallic clunk that echoed through the ship like a death sentence.

Docking clamps. Engaged.

The ship’s alarm screamed to life.

And through our connection, I felt Zayrik’s understanding hit like a physical blow. Felt his determination crystallize into something deadly.

Zayrik slammed his hand onto the console, external sensors flashing red. His emotions leaked through our bond, calculation, strategy, and beneath it all, a desperate need to keep me safe.

I didn’t need to look.

I already knew.

He was here.

Not just Vask.

A full hunting party.

Zayrik cursed low, ancient, war-forged rage in every syllable.

“Docking bays are sealed.”

No escape. No bluffing our way out.

This wasn’t a warning. It was a snare. Cold. Final.

Zayrik turned to me, jaw tight, eyes storm-dark. “Tell me you have a plan.”

I didn’t.

I reached for my blaster, anyway.

Because I knew what I had to do.

And gods, I hated that it would break him.

Only a promise I hadn’t made yet.

A choice I’d been preparing for since I gave him the crystal.

Since I let myself love him.

Footsteps outside. Dozens. Getting closer.

Each step echoing through the ship like a countdown.

Like endings.

Zayrik planted himself by the hatch. Solid. Unmoving. Through our bond, I felt his absolute certainty. He would die before he let them take me.

This was what he was built for—

What he was trained for—

But this wasn’t a fight we could win.

Not like this.

Not without losing everything.

The comms sparked again.

Vask’s voice slithered through the silence, poisoning everything it touched.

“Come on, Nyla. Don’t make this messy.”

I curled my fingers into fists, hiding the tremor that wanted to betray me. Through our bond, I felt Zayrik’s rage surge.

Feeling how badly he wanted to tear Vask apart just for speaking to me.

Zayrik looked at me. Just looked. Not pleading. Not panicked.

Waiting.

Trusting me even now.

I could see it in his eyes, feel it through our bond. He was going to fight. Die, if it came to it.

And that?

That was the problem.

The reason I had to act.

Because if he fought, he wouldn’t make it out.

And I couldn’t let him die for me.

Not when I could stop it.

Not when I finally had something... someone... worth protecting.

I exhaled slowly.

Steady.

Trying to block my intentions from flowing through our bond.

Trying not to let him feel what I was about to do.

And before he could stop me—

Before he could read my decision in our connection—

I stepped forward.

And set my blaster down.

Metal clattered on metal.

The sound rang out like finality.

Like the last note of a song we’d barely started.

Zayrik went still.

It was like the air had been sucked out of the galaxy.

Through our bond, I felt his horror dawn like a cold sun. Felt the moment he understood what I was doing.

“Nyla.”

My name torn from his throat, rough with emotion I’d never heard before. Through our connection, pain and fury and desperation crashed against me like waves.

I didn’t look back.

Couldn’t.

Because if I saw his face, felt the full force of his emotions through our bond, I might break. Might let him fight. Might let him die for me.

I raised my hands. Palms open. Every breath in my lungs a scream I didn’t let out. Every heartbeat a war between love and necessity.

The comms sparked.

Vask hummed, pleased. “Smart girl.”

The words made bile rise in my throat, made Zayrik’s rage pulse through our connection like living fire.

The doors hissed open.

Armed men flooded the ship.

I didn’t flinch.

Didn’t move.

Behind me, Zayrik stilled. But I could feel him.

A bomb seconds from detonation.

A storm about to break.

His emotions surged. Wild and fierce. Threatening to shatter our fragile bond.

I whispered, barely audible. My last chance.

Words that tasted like lies and protection and love all at once.

“Don’t come after me,” I whispered... a lie shaped like love.

But we both knew that was a lie.

Felt it in the way our bond thrummed with promise and fury and determination.

In the way something inside me reached for him even as I prepared to leave.

Because this wasn’t an ending.

It was a pause.

A sacrifice to keep him alive.

To give him time to figure out how to take down Vask.

Metal cuffs clicked around my wrists.

Cold. Final.

But not as cold as Vask’s smile when he stepped through the door.

“I’ve missed our little talks,” he said, reaching for my face.

Zayrik’s fury exploded, protective and deadly.

I felt him move before I saw him.

“Don’t touch her.”

The words carried death.

Carried promise.

Carried everything I was trying to prevent.

Vask’s men raised their weapons, but Vask just smiled.

That same smile that had haunted my nightmares.

“Protective, isn’t he?” His eyes flicked to Zayrik’s colorful mating marks. “Interesting.”

“Leave him out of this.” My voice was steady despite the fear crackling through our connection. Fear not for myself, but for what Zayrik might do.

Vask’s hand closed around my arm.

Through our bond, I felt Zayrik’s control snap.

Felt him gather himself to launch forward.

To tear them apart.

To die trying to save me.

“No!” I shouted, pushing everything I had through our connection. All my fear, my desperation, my need for him to live.

He staggered.

Just for a moment.

But long enough.

“Take her,” Vask said, his voice the strike after the snake’s hiss.

They dragged me toward the door.

Away from him. And from everything we’d built.

Everything we could have been.

The last thing I felt through our bond was his promise:

He was coming for me.

No matter what.

No matter what it cost.

And that?

That was the one thing I couldn’t protect him from.