A moment later, a hurried knock sounded at the door. Before I could answer, the door swung wide open. At first, I thought I was losing my mind, because what I saw was impossible. Briskly, and without reserve, Frid entered the room. She wore her sandy brown flying suit, and her hair was neatly braided. She looked at me with her eyebrows raised.
“How can you sleep so long? You missed breakfast.”
“Frid,” I whispered.
“Yes?” She looked puzzled.
“Hey, what’s happening?” Victor entered the room in his usual careless manner.
“Victor.”
I looked down at my hands. Everything around me looked so real. The tiny silver scars on my knuckles, the ray of morning sunlight that splayed across the rough panels of the wooden floor, the book I read at night was lying face down on the side table. I remembered flipping through the pages as well as I remembered the explosion of fire, and the feel of Alina’s body against my chest.
“I hope the pigeon’s gone.” Victor leaned against the doorframe, chewing on a piece of bread.
“Don’t tell me you’re still hungry.” Frid observed.
“After the night I had, I need strength.” He smirked.
“Oh, please. Not today. I don’t want to hear about your pathetic women.”
“They are not pathetic.” Victor straightened.
“If you say so.” Frid returned her attention back to me. “I wonder how soon he’ll be back. There’s not much to report since we failed.”
My heart skipped a beat, and a wave of pure panic exploded deep in my chest.
“I disagree. We did not fail. The risk was too great. Besides, the pigeon had a point - no one could survive in that place. It would be suicidal to go through the prison just to get a dead body.” Victor said.
In two long steps I was in front of Frid and without any warning, I wrapped my arms around her.
“Ty? What’s wro –” she started saying when I squeezed her hard.
“Thank the gods, Frid!” I let go of her and moved to Victor.
“What? Are you sick or something? I’m not into this kind of –” I gave Victor a big hug.
“You’re scaring me,” Frid mumbled.
“Are you drunk?” Victor squinted his eyes.
“Where’s Sol?” I asked.
“He’s still asleep.”
Slowly, memories started to come back to me. And the reality, clear and terrifying, drew new pictures in my mind. I remembered traveling to the high security prison the day before and taking several flybys, finding no one. I knew that the place was infested with crawlers and after examining the restricted section, and calling for any survivors without anysuccess, we turned back. We never went in. We were never inside.
Everything that I had seen, everything that I could still remember happening, was a product of my imagination. It never took place. It was all in my head.
I remembered the words of Sage when he talked about my mother, and the visions that were as real as life itself. Visions that showed the possible reality that could have been. That was why he drank so much, to keep himself numb to the pain and to forget.
The mate bond was showing me what destiny had planned for us if I took the right path.
Everything could be an illusion, a weird distorted dream, but one thing I knew for sure, Alina was real. She was still there. All alone. Dying.
“Ty? What’s wrong?” Frid frowned.
I changed into my flying suit and secured my weapons. Frid and Victor watched me, exchanging worried looks.
