Page 31 of Honor Bound

She cared.

That realization hit harder than any of his father’s blows. They all tensed when the door to the cell swished open again. La’Rue entered, controlling a large cart.

“We need to get a move on,” La’Rue said, her voice low and urgent. “The guard will be changing soon. Right now, the one manning the post is too lazy to care. The next one might not be.”

Roan exhaled slowly. She was right.

“There’s nothing I can do until we find real medical supplies,” Julia added, helping him sit. Pain lanced through his ribs, sharp and unforgiving, but he gritted his teeth and forced the sound down.

“You have a lock on my freighter?” La’Rue asked Sergi.

“Let me help you.”

Sergi nodded before bending to lend him an arm. Roan shook his head—and immediately regretted it. The room swam as his vision blurred. He probably had a concussion.

“I can do this,” Roan muttered, pushing through his pain. He refused to be dead weight.

La’Rue crossed her arms, saying nothing, but Roan caught the flicker of reluctant respect in her eyes. That was enough.

Climbing over the side was no simple task. By the time he settled in the cart, a fine coating of sweat covered his battered body and spots danced in front of his eyes. Sergi helped Julia climb in beside him.

The small space forced them close, Julia’s arm bracing him as the cart rumbled forward. Her warmth was steady, grounding.

Roan closed his eyes for a breath, forcing himself to absorb the moment. The pain, the exhaustion, the mission—all of it faded into something quieter.

He wasn’t supposed to be here.

He was supposed to die in that cell.

He exhaled, his voice barely above a whisper. “You saved me.”

Julia’s grip tightened slightly. “Not just me.”

Roan’s lips twitched. He felt the pull of unconsciousness, but refused to give into it. Instead, he embraced the strength in knowing they had a chance.

* * *

The journey through the warship stretched into eternity.Roan stayed silent, keeping his body rigid despite the pain,forcing himself to be aware of every turn, every stop, every sound of approaching footsteps.

Only once did they hit a delay, one that Sergi handled with unsettling ease. Roan wasn’t sure what had happened to the soldier stationed near the service panel, but he doubted the man would be reporting for duty any time soon.

When they finally reached the docking bay, a soft beep filled the air.

“H, open the lower hatch,” Sergi ordered.

The panel slid apart, revealing the compact yet efficient interior of La’Rue’s freighter. The air inside was warmer, carrying the scent of machine oil and aged metal.

Sergi helped Julia out first before turning to Roan.

The moment his feet touched the floor, his body swayed,but Julia was already there,wrapping her arm around his waist to steady him.

He muttered a curse, but she ignored it.

“You’re too pale,” she muttered, eyes scanning his injuries.

“You’re bossy,” he shot back, though there was no real heat behind it.

She sighed. “Shut up and let me help you.”

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