Then a laugh.
Then something that's dangerously close to hysterics—that manic, spiraling sound that bubbles up when my brain can't process reality fast enough and decides to just... stop trying.
I clap a hand over my mouth, forcing the sound down.
One-two-three-four. One-two-three-four.
Count. Breathe. Control.
"I have been on charging port until one hour ago," Ro continues, apparently unbothered by my brief descent into madness. "Power levels are now at 94%. I am prepared to assist with any tasks you require."
"Where are we?"
"Savage Knot sector. Richer quarters. I am unaware of specific address or property ownership details."
Savage Knot.
Not Ruthless.
Not even Dead Knot, where long-distance weapons and pack hierarchies rule.
SavageKnot—the sector known for its rigid social structures and absurdly wealthy inhabitants. The sector where pack status determines everything, where Omegas are either prized possessions or invisible servants, where the very air probably costs more than my entire townhome.
Formertownhome, I correct myself.
The one that burned.
The one they took from me because I committed the unforgivable sin of surviving alone.
"Thanks, Ro."
"I am glad Sera is safe."
The simple statement hits harder than it should.
Glad Sera is safe.
Four words, delivered in a synthetic voice by an AI companion I programmed during a seventy-two-hour insomnia spiral.
And somehow, they're the kindest words anyone has said to me in days.
My throat tightens.
I push the emotion down.
"Stay close," I tell her, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. "I'm going to explore."
The floor is cold against my bare feet.
Marble, I realize as I stand. Actual fucking marble, smooth and grey-veined, probably imported from somewhere expensive. The temperature shock helps clear my head, driving away the lingering fog of unconsciousness with each step.
The bedroom is enormous.
Now that I'm standing, I can take in the full scope of it—high ceilings, floor-to-ceiling windows draped with heavy curtains that block most of the natural light. A sitting area in one corner with plush armchairs arranged around a fireplace. An antique vanity with a massive mirror. A door that probably leads to a closet bigger than my entire former living space.
And another door, partially open, through which I can see gleaming tile and fixtures.
Bathroom.
