Page 36 of Zayrik (The Protectorate Warriors Alien Fated Mates #6)

Zayrik

THROUGH OUR BOND, I felt the moment she slipped away.

Felt her consciousness fade like a star going dark.

But beneath that darkness, a pulse.

Weak.

But there.

I rounded the final corner just as the next door slid open, automated override from the Velean.

I moved fast.

Not reckless.

Just unstoppable.

Like something ancient and deadly given form.

Every step forward dropped another body.

Every strike was clean. Efficient. Final.

No hesitation. No mercy.

Just cold, relentless fury. The kind only a mate could feel.

Blaster fire snapped through the corridors behind me.

Didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered but reaching her.

I wasn’t here to survive.

Wasn’t here for duty or honor or right.

I was here to end this.

To end him.

The first time Vask’s men realized what they were dealing with?

When I ripped the door controls off the wall with my bare hands, stepped into the fire, and didn’t stop walking.

My marks blazing on my skin like living flames.

Like a warning they were too stupid to heed.

They fired.

Plasma bolts scorched the air.

I didn’t flinch.

Didn’t pause.

Because I wasn’t aiming for survival.

I was aiming for him.

For the monster who dared touch my mate.

Who dared make her pain echo through our bond.

Behind me, the breach team moved like shadows.

Professional. Deadly. Efficient.

But they weren’t leading this charge.

Weren’t driving this hunt.

I was.

Not a warrior anymore.

Something older.

Something that remembered when justice meant blood, bone and a final breath.

I tore through the next corridor. Body after body dropping at my feet.

Each one a step closer to her.

Each death a promise of what was coming.

Fast. Brutal. Unstoppable.

Like vengeance given form.

Like rage made flesh.

Vask’s men weren’t soldiers.

Not warriors.

Just cowards in armor.

Prey standing between a predator and his mate.

And they were not ready for me.

Not ready for the fury I felt from the moment her pain crashed through our bond.

I hit the final door—

Kicked it open so hard it ripped off the hinges—

The sound of metal tearing like the roar building in my chest.

Smoke spilled into the hall. Acrid. Burning. Carrying the scent of electric fire and blood. And in the middle of the room...

And that’s when I saw him.

Vask.

Standing over her. Like he had the right.

Like he didn’t know he was already dead.

His hand was curled around her throat.

Blood smeared across his knuckles.

Her blood.

My mate’s blood.

Her body limp beneath him. Too still. Too quiet. Like she wasn’t in it anymore, and that scared me more than the blood.

My vision tunneled.

Everything went red.

Vask turned, grinning like he still had control.

Like he thought this was his moment.

He couldn’t see death wearing my face.

“You’re too late, Protectorate.”

I didn’t answer.

Didn’t need to.

I remembered her laugh.

Her trust.

Her body curled against mine this morning.

I raised my blaster.

And fired.

The initial shot wounded him in the shoulder. He staggered back, shock flickering across his face.

Because he thought I’d hesitate.

Thought I needed a reason.

Thought I’d play by rules he’d never respected.

I didn’t.

This wasn’t about justice. It was about her.

The second shot punched through his gut.

He dropped to his knees, gasping.

Still not understanding that this wasn’t a fight.

This was an execution.

The third...

Straight between the eyes.

Clean. Final. Merciful in a way he didn’t deserve.

There were no last words.

No grand duel.

No second chances.

Just the end he’d earned the moment he touched what was mine.

Vask’s body hit the floor, dead before he realized he’d already lost.

Dead before he understood what he’d awakened in me.

What he’d created when he hurt my mate.

I exhaled.

Let the rage settle into something colder.

Something focused entirely on her.

Lowered the blaster. Then ran.

Nyla.

My K’sha.

My everything.

I dropped to my knees beside her.

My hands found her, searching for movement, breath, anything.

Through our bond, I pushed strength, life, need.

Come back to me.

“Nyla,” I whispered.

Her pulse was weak. But there.

My breath stuttered.

Relief and fear warring in my chest.

There was a soft, broken trill from the corner.

A sound that broke something in me.

Zep.

Her loyal companion.

Her first defender.

He was curled on the floor, his small body trembling, barely conscious.

Another innocent Vask had hurt.

His death was too merciful for the things he had done.

I crossed the room in two steps, gathered him up—gently, reverently.

This tiny creature who’d tried to protect her.

Who’d fought alongside her.

Tucked him against Nyla’s chest where he belonged.

Neither of them resisted.

Neither moved.

That scared me more than anything.

More than blood or battle or death.

But I wasn’t wasting time.

Wasn’t letting fear paralyze me.

Not when every second mattered.

I lifted her into my arms. One beneath her legs. One against her back.

Cradling her like something precious.

Like everything that mattered in the galaxy.

Even weak, Zep didn’t let go. Tiny claws still tangled in her jacket.

Protecting her even now.

Even broken.

I stood.

Turned.

Through our bond, I felt her life force flutter, weak but present.

Hold on, Nyla. Just hold on.

The alarms were still screaming.

The station was coming apart.

Chaos and destruction in our wake.

But this?

This part of the nightmare?

This was over.

I ran.

Not a warrior.

A mate.

A hybrid Alaran male who’d found his other half... and would never let her go.

The corridors blurred.

Every footstep was another heartbeat I refused to let her lose.

Every breath a prayer to gods I’d never believed in.

Save her. Let me keep her. Let me have time.