Page 21 of Honor Bound

Zoak’s lips curled into a slow, predatory grin. “You know me, Director. I don’tconsiderthings.” He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Ifinishthem.”

Andri exhaled slowly. One more threat neutralized before it could grow into something larger. Now, to take care of his nephew and the Ancients.

Zoak hesitated for a moment before adding, “And what of General Landais?”

Andri’s eyes flickered with something unreadable. “I will take care of Roan.”

Zoak’s image flickered, and the transmission cut out, leaving Andri alone with his thoughts.

For the first time in hours, he allowed his fingers to unclench, exhaling a breath that was slow and deliberate.

Roan.

His nephew had been an enigma since childhood, balancing between the brutality of his father’s teachings and the quiet resilience of his mother’s people. Coleridge had tried to crush his spirit, to burn away whatever weakness Nia had left in him. And for a time, Andri had believed it had worked. Now, his hope of training Roan as his predecessor was as dead as his nephew would soon be if the information he was receiving was true.

Andri drummed his fingers against the desk, considering his options. Coleridge had failed to bring Roan in line. Hishesitation—hissentimentality—had left cracks in his control, and those cracks had widened. If Roan truly stood against them, he would be a dangerous adversary.

If he aligned himself with the Ancient Knights…

Andri’s jaw tightened. He had spent a lifetime eradicating hope, crushing it before it could take root. He would not allow the whisper of the Ancients’ return to become something greater.

He glanced toward the star map on the wall, his pale fingers tapping against the desk.

It was time.

Coleridge had been given every chance to mold Roan into something useful. But Andri was beginning to doubt his brother’s abilities. The Legion did not tolerate loose ends.

If Roan couldn’t be reprogrammed back into the Legion’s grip, he would need to be eliminated. Roan knew too well the intricate workings of the Legion. That knowledge would be devastating if his nephew shared it with the rebels of the Gallant.

He pushed away from his desk and rose. Walking over to the window, he stared out into deep space. He acknowledged the tiny thread of fear churning inside him. For the first time, he sensed that the thread of hope the Ancients had brought—theone thing he had spent his life destroying—was slipping beyond his reach and control.

Andri’s fingers pressed together, steady, controlled. Though inside, he could feel the edges fraying.

Roan had always been a wildcard, but acontainedone. A trained hound, one his father had beaten into obedience. Yet now, he had slipped his leash, running toward a past that Andri had worked too hard to bury.

And if the rumors were true—if Roan had found the survivors—then hope had already begun to fester.

And if that hope took root…

The galaxy would change forever.

Andri would not let that happen.

He activated another transmission, his voice cold and final.

“Prepare the fleet. We are going to Plateau.”

CHAPTERSIX

Plateau – Calstar’s Hut

Julia wiped down the stone countertop, clearing the last remnants of breakfast as the soft morning light filtered through the open windows of the hut. The scent of warm bread and spiced tea still lingered in the air, blending with the earthy freshness of the garden outside. She worked with measured movements, her thoughts half on the task, half on the man who had just stepped through the door.

Roan.

Three days had passed since their kiss beneath the stars. Three days of unmentioned tension, of sidelong glances and fleeting moments charged with something neither of them was willing to acknowledge. They had danced around each other in conversation, cautious yet drawn together by an invisible thread.

And in those three days, Calstar’s declining health had become impossible to ignore.

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