Page 37 of Honor Bound

“Hutu, this is Sergi. We need emergency medical assistance,” he said.

“Affirmative, Sergi. A medical team is being deployed,” Hutu informed him.

Julia exhaled, relief washing over her like a tide. They weren’t alone. The calvary had arrived.

CHAPTERTEN

The Tracer – Detention Cell

Roan sat on the narrow metal bench bolted to the bulkhead, his arms resting loosely on his knees. With a grunt of displeasure, Hutu had reluctantly given in to the request that he not be bound. The restraints would have been more a formality than a necessity. This wasn’t his first cell.

He rested his head against the cool metal bulkhead, forcing his breathing to slow. TheTracer’sdetention cells were a vast improvement from his father’s, but they were still cages.

He flexed his fingers, rubbing at his wrists. They hadn’t bound him. That meant Hutu wanted answers, not compliance.

Smart.

He exhaled slowly, pressing his palms together and closed his eyes. His father was still alive. That knowledge coiled inside him, tightening with every breath.

Coleridge will never stop.

Roan knew his father’s mind as well as he knew his own. His father would break Julia just to watch Roan suffer. His uncle would do worse.

He opened his eyes, staring at the door.

They have no idea what they’ve started.

The sterile lighting above flickered slightly, casting faint shadows on the smooth gray bulkheads. No sharp edges, no weak spots to exploit. Efficient, well-maintained—functional. Exactly what he would expect from Hutu.

He leaned his head forward, his thoughts turning as they had frequently done over the last few days since he had arrived to Julia.He hadn’t seen her—or Sergi and La’Rue, since he was taken into custody.

He let out a slow breath, closing his eyes for a moment, though rest was impossible despite the fatigue pulling at him.

At least the pain is gone,he mused with a dry chuckle.

His fingers flexed with frustration, and his thoughts turned back to the recent battle. He had seen his father’s expression as he and La’Rue faced the man down. Hatred… and a touch of madness. That realization pressed against his mind like a weight, heavier than the bruises and scars hidden beneath his clothes.

His father wanted revenge.The other Ancients—Ash, Josh—Sergi—they were targets, but they were also soldiers who knew the rules. They had trained, fought, bled, and survived long before the Legion’s shadow reached them. They would be ready.

But Julia…

The image of her beautiful, serene face as she stared back at him in his grandfather’s garden that first day rose in vivid detail in his mind. Her light brown hair piled into a messy bun, the soft tunic that caressed her slender figure, the sharp, curious look in her dark brown eyes.

She was different.

Not because she was weak—she wasn’t. She had faced down his father without flinching, standing her ground with a fire in her eyes Roan hadn’t seen in years. That alone marked her as a threat in his father’s twisted logic.

But it was more than that.

Coleridge knew.

He knew that Roan cared.

And that makes her a threat, but also vulnerable.

Roan had witnessed first-hand what kind of threat Julia was. It wasn’t because she could defend herself. It was because she had refused to cower to Coleridge with an elegance, an almost supernatural power, that scared his father. That was why his father would try to exploit that connection between himself and Julia. His father would twist it. Use it. Then, he would kill them.

Roan’s jaw tightened. His father wasbrutal, but his uncle…

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