Page 73 of Dark Rebel's Mystery

Her eyelids fluttered shut, dizzy with the swirl of drug-induced confusion. She wanted to believe a rescue was possible, but the two brain cells still functioning in her head knew the cruel truth. She might remain locked in this cell for weeks until her people staged an operation to free her.

She didn't deserve the sacrifice, the many who would fall.

They'd tried to warn her, and she'd refused to listen. It wasn't their fault that she was here, chained to a bed and drugged.

Another scream raked her nerves. She squeezed her eyes tight, wishing she could cover her ears. The chains clanked again as she shifted, painfully aware that her ankles and wrists were spread in a degrading, vulnerable position.

That was how they'd kept her before, wasn't it? In that asylum.

A memory surfaced of the doctor removing her clothes, half-lost in the haze. He'd pressed down on her stomach, sneering. He hadn't done it to examine her. Had he laughed? Maybe. She couldn't quite remember. But she felt the humiliation all the same. The memory burned, spurring her to twist again in the present, rattling the new restraints.

"Khorafeh," she mumbled under her breath—nonsense. Her mind spun in circles, mixing Kurdish, Farsi, and English in one swirl. If only she could stand or even sit up. But all she managed was shifting her hips a few inches. The bed frame creaked ominously. Every movement stole energy she didn't have, and the sedation made her arms feel like lead.

Cold sweat trickled down her temple.

She braced herself for the door to slam open, for footsteps to echo on the linoleum. She expected the doctor to stride in at any moment, or the commander, or one of those enhanced guards.

Kyra didn't want to think of the horrors awaiting her. The horrors she'd seen them inflict on Twelve.

A tear slid down her cheeks.

They were both doomed. No one was coming to save them.

A clatter outside the door jolted her, sending her heart racing. She strained to listen, but it was only the echo of distant metal clunks. There was no sign of footsteps entering her cell. She should be thankful.

She turned her head, the slight movement draining her fragile reserves of strength. Her pulse throbbed painfully in her temple. The sedation pressed down on her, heavy and unrelenting, dragging her into a thick haze of half-sleep. She blinked, fighting it, but it was a losing battle.

Her mind drifted, images swirling. Distant in her memory, a small child's face—brown eyes with flakes of gold like hers, hair streaked with chestnut. In the vision or rather hallucination, she cradled the girl, singing her a lullaby. Or maybe that was a dream, too. Her reality was this vile nightmare with real chains and real pain.

She'd never felt so powerless.

"Help…" The word was a whisper, strangled and trembling. She wasn't even sure she wanted to be heard. Because who would hear her anyway? The only ears that might listen belonged to the bastards running this place.

Kyra sank into the darkness, a spark of defiance flaring in her chest even as her consciousness ebbed, and she was lost in that half-world between waking and oblivion.

She would endure just like she had before.

Clutching that final thought, she let the blackness swallow her once again.

49

MAX

Max crouched behind a low concrete barrier, his nostrils itching from the sharp tang of gunpowder thick in the air. Over the din of gunfire, the acrid smell of smoke, and the shouts echoing through the compound's courtyard, he could barely hear his own voice.

Their carefully crafted plan had fallen apart into chaos moments into its execution.

The trek from the landing site to the compound had been swift and uneventful. The Kra-ell warriors had scaled the watchtowers in seconds and taken out the guards manning them with no one any the wiser. Even Max, who had been listening for sounds of scuffles taking place, had heard nothing.

With Yamanu's shroud, the guards at the gate had been dispatched with the same lethal speed. Things had been going to plan—until they hadn't.

When their team entered the courtyard, two Doomers spotted them and opened fire before his team realized they were dealing with Doomers, who weren't affected by Yamanu's shroud.

Yamanu had been hit in the neck, and his shroud had fallen apart. The Doomers' shots and shouts had alerted the rest of the force, and within seconds, a full-blown gunfight erupted.

The Kra-ell team had pounced without hesitation.

Dima and Anton had launched themselves among the soldiers, moving so fast their figures seemed to blur. Asuka and Mehira followed suit, their eyes gleaming with bloodlust as they bounded toward the Doomers. Max caught a glimpse of Jade's slender silhouette darting into the fray, a short blade in hand and a savage grin full of fangs curling her lips. The Kra-ell's demonic appearance was an unexpected advantage as soldiers screamed and ran in fear.

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