Page 28 of Honor Bound

“Where did they come from, Roan?” Coleridge demanded. “How many more are there?”

Roan lifted his head slowly, locking eyes with his father—and said nothing. His continued silence was the one thing his father hated. In that split second, he recognized that his defiance had finally caused his father to lose his icy grip on his control.

Death would not come quickly,he ruefully mused.

Coleridge’s rage with his son had finally caused him to snap. Roan watched with dispassionate interest as his father’s fingers wrapped around the staff at his waist. Agony seized his body, yet his mind seemed to hover, a detached observer watching the horrific spectacle unfold. The raw, visceral feeling was present, yet somehow distant, viewed through a veil of otherworldly separation.

The glowing tip of the staff pierced into his side again.Fire. A burning, white-hot agony spread through him.Still, he did not cry out.He would not give him that.

Coleridge leaned close.“You still have nothing to say?Almost admirable.”

He gritted his teeth when his father twisted the staff. Pain radiated through Roan, sharp and blinding.He tried to grit his teeth, but he was losing control of his body. Through the haze of agony, his father’s voice slithered like poison, seeping through his bloodstream.

“I wonder if your Ancient Knight will be as defiant when I do the same to her.”

Red hazed Roan’s vision and his jaw locked. His vision blurred, his body was trembling, but he refused to concede defeat. He couldn’t. He had to save Julia from the monster who had sired him.

He took in shallow breaths, pushing back against the pain in his body. His mind fought to follow his father’s movements as he rose and turned away. It wasn’t until the door hissed shut that he leaned forward with a groan.

He couldn’t give in to the pain. He… had to escape. His mind was clouded with pain from the numerous blows he had received. He fought to clear it.

Julia.

Bracing a shoulder against the cot, he pushed himself straighter. He couldn’t give in.

Not yet.

Another low moan slipped from him as he straightened and reached into his sleeve. His fingers brushed against the hidden master release card.

A searing pain shot through him as he twisted, his muscles screaming in protest as he carefully nudged the narrow card toward the sensor. Several frustrating attempts later, a tiny click resonated, and the wrist restraints clattered to the floor with a dull thud. With a groan, he pulled his arms around, rolled onto his back, and took several deep, ragged breaths, each one a searing reminder of his exertion.

As his mind cleared, a sense of calm washed over him, the calm of a morning before a storm. His entire being was consumed by the urgent need to rescue Julia; the thought pulsed like a frantic heartbeat in his chest. The confrontation between himself and his father was far from over. Roan was all too aware that he needed to make sure Julia was somewhere where his father and uncle could not reach her.

Roan clenched his jaw, forcing his battered body upright, until the dizziness hit like a fist to the skull. His ribs screamed, his muscles shook from exertion. The pain was a living thing, coiled in his gut, threatening to pull him back down. The room tilted.

Move. Move, damn it.

He stumbled forward, bracing himself against the cold bulkhead. His breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling as his vision blurred. Every step felt as if he was wading through fire, but the thought of Julia kept him moving.

Hehadto reach her.

He had to make sure she was safe.

His father and uncle had sealed their own fates—and his.

He would kill them both… and help the Ancients and the Knights of the Gallant rise again—but first, he had to save Julia.

CHAPTEREIGHT

The sterile brightness of the prison cell was blinding, reflecting off the smooth, metallic bulkheads and amplifying the emptiness around Julia. The only furniture was a cold metal cot bolted to the deck, its thin mattress offering no comfort. She sat on the edge of it, her restrained hands loosely clasped in front of her, taking a deep breath, forcing herself to focus.

She needed to compartmentalize—to file away the grief threatening to drown her. The image of Calstar’s lifeless eyes, the powerful blows Coleridge had inflicted on Roan, and the destruction of the beautiful floating world of Plateau haunted the edges of her mind, but grief was a luxury she couldn’t afford.

Not now. Survival required focus, and Roan needed her.She clenched her jaw, channeling the analytical part of her mind—the scientist within herself that thrived on data, logic, and control.

Seeing Sergi had sparked a flicker of hope she desperately clung to. She knew him better than most—his hidden credentials, his skills tucked beneath a veneer of casual arrogance. Officially, he was part of the Gliese team. Unofficially, he was FSB, a spy for the Russian Federal Security Service Bureau, and an expert in weapons, infiltration, and survival. Her father had insisted on his inclusion in the project, much to Admiral Greenberg’s disapproval. But her father had been right. As always. Now, that decision might save her life.

She allowed herself a brief smile, imagining Mei here beside her. Two spies would certainly have made things easier. Mei’s persona was Sergi’s mirror image, only for the Chinese government. Her slight frame and innocent features a perfect camouflage for how deadly she actually was in reality. Mei had beenherchoice.

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