And she hated herself for that.
The water drained, and all her hope and ideals washed away with it. Cold that burned like fire needled into every fiber of her body.
A body could only withstand so much shock.
Dr. Cooper didn't talk to her anymore. He simply waited for her to swear her soul to the Phaedra.
The icy water rose slowly this time. Very slowly. Kira was too weak to lift her head to breathe. Soon, there was nowhere left for her. She was buried in a grave of freezing water.
Her hand curled into a fist as her consciousness waned. She lacked the strength to knock. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered.
No surrender.
Black pulled her within the depths of the sea, so deep that her mind played cruel tricks on her. She heard Zayne's powerful voice, and he wasn't calling her prisoner or a problem or Ms. Stiles.
His deep voice called out her name.
“Kira!”
She must have been dead.
Fleeting thoughts clawed for the surface of her mind, but those were drowning with her. When the water rushed out of the tank, light washed over her, and she looked into death, surprised by how bright it was.
A shadow fell over her.
Blinking, she struggled to make out the face, but her eyes slid closed.
“Zayne…?”
Did he come back for her? Was this real?
Strong arms lifted her from the tank and ripped her from the clutches of death. Kira landed against hardness and tenderness, the softness of skin over muscle. Of humanity and vulnerability over strength. She wilted into the warmth of the man holding her and drifted back to that chilly night. Back to the masked man who held her close. It felt so much like him, she wondered if he'd come to take her home. Wondered if she died and only imagined him.
Thoughts clashed as she rode the line between reality and the depths of the icy water. She grasped consciousness. Her eyes fluttered open, but everything felt different than in her stupor.
The man holding her didn't feel like the masked man. And he was too warm to be Zayne.
“Hang on. I'm getting you help.” The voice wasn't right either.
Kira made out the blurry image of a stranger with warm beige skin and dark whiskers.
CHAPTER 15
Zayne
Ciondo
833 P.C. [Post-Collapse]
Zayne slipped into a small exam room with Brock, where Reinard remotely manipulated the cameras. They'd lose access soon, but it was easier to take over one camera in a confined space than multiple.
“How is she?” Zayne asked.
Brock rubbed his eyes. “Confused as hell that she woke up to some man she doesn't know.”
The rebuke didn't faze Zayne. Neither did the anger stiffen Brock's shoulders. When he opened the door to see Kira trapped in that tank, the memory of that pain cut through everything about this operation and his life, even Edwards' death.
Kira's skin had been as cold as the dead when he pulled her from the tank. If not for her violent shivering, he would have worried she was already gone.
