Cullen
The guards came for us at dawn.
I heard them before they appeared—the heavy tread of boots in the corridor, the metallic scrape of weapons being readied. Lying beside me, I felt Serna's instant alertness, her heartbeat accelerating to match mine.
We were on our feet when the door slid open.
Six guards this time. They weren't taking chances.
"Move," one of them barked, gesturing with his weapon.
I met Serna's eyes across the cell. Her expression was calm, composed—the Prime's mask firmly in place. But I felt the current of fear beneath it. Not for herself. For me.
I love you,I thought, willing the words through our connection.
Her eyes softened for just a moment.I love you too.
Then the guards were on us, hauling us to our feet with bruising grips. They didn't bother with restraints this time—just shoved us forward into the corridor, weapons trained on our backs.
The walk to the torture chamber felt both endless and far too short.
Serna raised her chin, determination crystallizing into something sharp and focused. She was preparing herself. Steeling her mind for whatever came next.
I tried to do the same. Tried to remember my training, the resistance techniques they'd drilled into us during SEAL training. But this was different. This wasn't some hypothetical scenario or controlled exercise.
This was real. And the man waiting for us was a sadist who'd spent a century perfecting his cruelty.
The chamber doors slid open, and they shoved us inside.
Riuondo was already there, pacing like a caged animal. His expression was thunderous, his movements sharp and agitated. Something had happened. Something that had put him on edge.
"Strap him in," he snapped at the guards.
They dragged me toward the chair—that same reinforced metal chair with its magnetic restraints and built-in torture implements. I resisted, but there were six of them and I was still weak from the previous session. They slammed me down into the seat, and the restraints snapped closed around my wrists and ankles with brutal finality.
Serna they left standing, but two guards flanked her, weapons ready.
"The council call has been delayed," Riuondo said, his voice tight with barely controlled rage. "Some incident involving Earth. They claim they need more time to address it before we can proceed with the abdication."
Down the bond, I felt Serna's surge of hope.The message got through. They're coming.
But she kept her expression neutral. "These things happen. Political complications—"
"Silence!" Riuondo whirled on her, his face contorted with fury. "Do you think I'm a fool? Do you think I don't know what this means?"
He advanced on her, his eyes blazing with accusation. "You did something during that call with Ako and that human. You signaled them somehow. Warned them."
"What?" Serna's voice was perfectly calm, but I could feel the uptick in our shared heartbeat. "You were there with me the entire time. You watched every word I spoke, every gesture I made."
"You had to do something. Why else would they postpone the call?"
She lifted her chin, meeting his gaze with the full weight of her authority. "If the Council is postponing, it has nothing to do with me. Perhaps the fates have intervened because of the catastrophic mistake it would be to allow a paranoid, power-hungry fool to control the Alliance."
Riuondo's hand shot out and cracked across her face. The sound echoed through the room, and I roared against my restraints, the metal groaning under the force of my rage.
"You will show respect," he hissed.
Serna turned her head back slowly, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. She smiled. "Respect is earned. You've earned nothing but contempt."
