Page 31 of Zayrik (The Protectorate Warriors Alien Fated Mates #6)

Zayrik

THE DOORS SLAMMED SHUT behind her. Taking everything with them.

Everything except the rage.

I didn’t move.

Didn’t blink.

Couldn’t.

My body turned to steel.

Not from fear.

From rage so pure it crystallized in my veins.

She was gone.

Ripped from me while I was still reaching for her. Still memorizing the shape of her in my arms.

Still tasting her name on my tongue.

The bond between us stretched thin but didn’t break, letting me feel fragments of her fear. Her determination, her silent plea for me to live.

I stood there, fists tight.

Breathing too slow.

My marks burning beneath my skin like they were trying to lead me to her.

Because if I let myself feel it, really feel it—

If I let myself remember how she looked at me before surrendering... I would burn this entire godsdamned station down to the bones.

Would tear apart anyone who stood between us.

She told me not to come after her. But even her voice had cracked on the lie.

Even through our bond, I felt her doubt.

She didn’t believe it.

Neither did I.

We both knew what I would become to get her back.

I crossed the cockpit on autopilot.

Dropped into the pilot’s seat.

Slapped the comms open with a force that rattled the panel.

Every movement precise. Controlled. The calm before destruction.

No hesitation. There were no options left.

No more playing by rules that didn’t protect what mattered.

“Direct line. The Velean,” I growled.

The Protectorate flagship.

Warship-class.

My friend, and Commander of the ship, Raxor. A Tulian with rage in his blood and loyalty carved into his bones. I watched him fight alongside his fated mate. He was the kind of warrior who understood what it meant to lose something vital.

The signal pulsed.

Once.

Twice.

Each moment without her a physical ache through our stretched bond.

The comms crackled. “Velean. Identify.”

I didn’t let my voice betray how close I was to shattering.

“Protectorate warrior Zayrik. Code 25165.”

A pause.

The line clicked again, deeper now. A private channel.

Secure. Protected.

Raxor’s voice, familiar and commanding.

“Zayrik. Report.”

I stared at the screen.

My voice came out flat.

Calm. The kind of calm that preceded violence.

“This isn’t a mission, Raxor.”

A beat.

Tension spiked, hot and immediate.

Through our faint bond, I felt Nyla’s fear spike. Not for herself. For what was coming.

“Then what the hell is it? You finally ready for pick up?”

I didn’t breathe.

Didn’t blink.

Let the rage lace through my bones. Sharpening into armor.

And then I said it.

The words that would burn down stars.

“Vask took my K’sha .”

Silence.

Not shock.

Not confusion.

Just stillness.

Like the galaxy had paused to listen.

Like fate itself held its breath.

Because those words meant more than just a missing person.

They meant war.

“Understood.”

No hesitation. No questions. No lecture about protocols or permission.

Just a silent promise.

Of deeper loyalties than mere duty.

“I’m en route.” Raxor’s voice cut like a blade.

Sharp with purpose.

“We end this. Together.”

The comms cut.

And I sat there, staring at the screen.

Hand still locked on the comms toggle.

Breath locked in my chest.

Through our bond, I caught fragments of movement, of fear, of determination.

She was still alive.

My mating marks burned like fire beneath my skin.

Calling me to her.

Demanding action.

Promising retribution.

I was done waiting.

Done playing by rules that let monsters like Vask exist.

The hunt was on.

And Vask?

He didn’t just make a mistake.

Didn’t just take someone I wanted.

He declared war on the wrong flutzing male.

Took the one thing I couldn’t live without.

My mate.

My K’sha .

THE DOOR TO HER QUARTERS slid open with a soft hiss.

I stepped inside.

Everything was still.

Like the room hadn’t caught up yet. Like it didn’t realize she was gone.

Like it was holding its breath, waiting for her return.

Her sweater still slung over the chair.

A ration wrapper crumpled on the console.

Zep’s little harness, empty now, rested on the edge of the bed.

Every detail a reminder of what was taken.

Of who was taken.

I stood in the center of the room.

Just stood.

I let the silence settle like dust across my shoulders.

Letting her absence cut deep enough to fuel what came next.

It didn’t matter how long she’d been here. Her presence was everywhere.

In the data pad still showing ship diagnostics she’d been reviewing.

In the simple, ordinary signs of someone who’d started to trust. To stay.

And now?

Gone.

Her scent was still in the air. Spice and metal and something else that had burrowed into my skin before I ever knew what she meant to me.

I bowed my head.

Let the silence stretch.

Let it press in around me.

The rage was still there, coiled under my skin. Twitching in my fingers, ready to break.

Ready to destroy.

But this moment?

This was for her.

For us.

For everything we’d barely begun.

I reached into my pocket and drew out the crystal.

The last thing she gave me.

Her final act of faith.

Still impossibly light for something that carried the heaviness of her goodbye.

She’d handed it to me like it was nothing.

Like she was already preparing not to survive.

Like she’d known this moment was coming.

I closed my fingers around it.

Tight.

So tight it might crack if I weren’t careful.

But it didn’t break.

Just like she wouldn’t break.

Just like we wouldn’t break.

“No more running,” I murmured to the empty room.

Not a promise.

A vow.

Written in blood and bone and the bond that bound us together.

Through our bond, I pushed everything I felt, my determination, my rage, my love... hoping she could feel it. Hoping she knew I’d come for her.

That I wouldn’t abandon her.

I stood. Crossed to her sweater and ran a hand across the collar.

Memorizing.

Promising.

Becoming something more than just a warrior.

Something that would make Vask wish he’d never heard her name.

Then turned and walked out.

When the door shut behind me, it felt final.

Like closing a tomb. Leaving behind the last traces of who I used to be.

But I didn’t look back.

Couldn’t.

Because the next time I saw her, I wasn’t going to whisper.

I wasn’t going to beg.

I was going to bring back the galaxy’s sharpest blade

And cut down anyone who touched her.

Anyone who made her fear.

Anyone who thought they could take what was mine.

Through our bond, I felt her resignation shift to hope.

Just for a moment.

Just enough.

She knew I was coming.

So did Vask.

He just didn’t understand what that meant.

Through our bond, I felt the moment she decided to fight.

Felt her warrior’s heart surge with determination.

With purpose.

With the kind of strength that had made me fall for her in the first place.

My marks flared. Colors blazing with every vow I’d made and every soul I planned to destroy.

A warning.

A call to arms.

Hold on, K’sha .

I’m coming.