“Yes. What about you?”
“I'm okay too. I never thought I'd see you again.”
Becka's head dropped for a moment, and she raised it back up, smiling through the tears. “I always knew I'd see you again, baby.”
“I love you, Mom.”
Becka covered a sob and nodded. “Me too. I never stopped trying to get to you.”
“I heard. You have to take care of yourself. You can't spend all day worrying about me, okay?”
“You grew up.” Becka's fingers touched the screen. “I missed it all.”
“I—”
“We have full control of communications.” Luke's sharp stare shifted from his phone to Father.
His interruption sucked the air out of Zayne's lungs in a violent shudder, like a hole ripping into the side of an airplane mid-flight.
How? Reinard never failed at something like this.
Chills cut across the back of Zayne's arms.
Father ripped Kira's head back by a handful of hair. She let out a cry, clawing at his wrist to escape.
The High General held steadfast, his drawn expression merciless and uncaring.
Zayne's hands stiffened, desperate to pry his father away from Kira. Scenarios rapidly fired through his mind while he fought to keep his body in place, playing out every option to help her and keep Becka from talking.
United soldiers closed in on Becka. “Don't touch her!” A hand clamped over her mouth and muffled her next words.
One of the United officers blocked the screen and shouted. “Turn it off.”
“We can't,” came another voice. “What do we do about the girl?”
“The locations,” his father said. A yank, and he ripped a scream from Kira, her face contorting in pain. In a deep and quaking voice, he said, “Now.”
The soldier covering Becka's mouth cursed and yanked a bloody hand away.
Within the next few seconds, the fate of all those Followers may be sealed. He could only see and hear Kira, only think of her, but there were so many lives at stake. Reinard would be fighting back for control, as well as the United, but they may not have that long.
Zayne needed to act now.
Tears streamed down Becka's face, and she managed one word before a soldier clamped her mouth shut again. “Please!”
United officers dragged her off the screen, but Zayne could still hear her struggling, which meant she could hear Kira.
Now his father ripped the blade from his side and pressed it to Kira's throat, his steely demeanor unwavering. “My knife is on her. I'll give you ten seconds.”
“It's—” Muffled screaming. “The capital—”
Fuck. Fuck.
Zayne's body started to move when he felt the tingle of alarm and looked up to see that his brother didn't watch Kira or Becka, but him. A determined stare remained locked on him.
“What are our orders?” a soldier said. “Break the equipment, or let her speak?”
Kira struggled in a breath against the knife and the strain of his father jerking her hair, but she spoke clearly. “Don't say a word, Mom.”
