Mine, something primal whispered in his mind.My mate. My family.
He forced himself to pull back. There would be time for this later. Time for tenderness, for reassurance, for the thousand words he wanted to say. Right now, they needed to move.
“The shuttle is waiting,” he said, his voice rough. “Stay close. Don’t let go of my hand.”
She nodded, shifting Robbie to one arm so she could take his hand with the other. Her fingers were small and warm against his skin, her grip surprisingly strong.
“Lead the way.”
The corridor outside her cell was a nightmare of smoke and chaos.
He had chosen the chemical mixture carefully—something that produced thick, acrid smoke without actually burning hot enough to cause structural damage. The fire suppression systems would handle it within the hour, but for now, the grey-black clouds billowing through the ancient stone passagesreduced visibility to a few meters and sent everyone into a panicked frenzy.
Staff members rushed past them without a second glance, too focused on their own escape to question why a captain was escorting a prisoner through the chaos. Someone shouted about containment protocols. Someone else screamed about contaminated samples. The alarm continued its relentless wail, drilling into his skull like a hammer.
Melissa kept pace beside him, her breathing steady despite the smoke that made his own eyes water. She didn’t panic, didn’t falter, didn’t ask questions they didn’t have time to answer. She simply moved, trusting him to guide them through the labyrinth.
Remarkable,he thought, not for the first time.Absolutely remarkable.
They rounded a corner and nearly collided with a pair of guards heading in the opposite direction. His hand dropped to his weapon, but the guards barely spared them a glance before continuing past, shouting something about securing the east wing.
“Where are the others?” she asked, keeping her voice low.
“Already at the shuttle. I moved them during the initial evacuation announcement.”
“And we’re going to…?”
“Landing pad three. Secondary supply dock.” He pulled her around another corner, down a narrower passage that he knew would be empty because it was only for maintenance access, rarely used except by cleaning crews. “The pilot is a friend. He’s been helping me for weeks.”
“A friend.” She glanced at him sideways. “You have friends who are willing to commit treason?”
“I have friends who remember what honor means.”
The passage opened into a wider corridor, this one blessedly clear of smoke. Emergency lights strobed red against the ancient stone, casting everything in bloody shadows. He quickened his pace.
“Almost there,” he said. “Just through the?—”
“Captain Becsul!”
He froze.
The voice came from behind them—sharp, authoritative, and familiar. He turned slowly, his hand still gripping hers, his body positioning itself between her and the threat.
Dr. Veyalor stood at the junction they’d just passed, his usually pristine lab coat stained with soot, and his expression caught somewhere between confusion and suspicion.
“Captain.” Veyalor’s eyes flicked to her, to Robbie, to their joined hands. “What are you doing? The prisoners should be secured in their cells during an emergency.”
“I’m moving her to a safer location.” He kept his voice level, his posture relaxed. “The smoke is concentrated in her wing. Standard protocol for high-value assets.”
“High-value—” Veyalor’s brow ridges drew together. “Captain, I wasn’t informed of any such protocol.”
“It’s a recent addition. Councilor Naran authorized it personally.”
The lie came easily. It shouldn’t have. Twenty years of military service, of following orders, of trusting in the system—and here he was, lying to a superior officer without hesitation. A few weeks ago, the thought would have been unthinkable.
A few weeks ago, he hadn’t known Melissa.
Veyalor studied him for a long moment. Something flickered in his expression—doubt, calculation, perhaps even a hint of understanding. Then his gaze dropped to Becsul’s tail, still wrapped protectively around Melissa’s waist.
