Page 50 of Honor Bound

Julia rolled her eyes, fighting a grin. “It’s called rest, Sergi. You should try it sometime. I hear it does wonders for your personality.”

Sergi chuckled, tilting his head toward the cabin door with an expectant look. “Did you rest alone? Or was there?—”

“Don’t.” Julia held up a finger, cutting him off. “Not another word.”

“Missed opportunities, my dear Julia,” he said with a rueful sigh. “Life is short. Live it to the fullest while you can. No one knows better than we do that we’ve been given a second chance.”

Before she could respond, Roan appeared at the far end of the corridor, yawning and stretching his shoulders, a faint wince crossed his face as he worked out the kinks in his muscles.

Sergi’s eyebrow shot up. “Rough night, General?”

Roan shot him a dry look. “Let’s just say the floor in the storage bay was not built for comfort.”

Sergi chuckled, his glances flicking between them with obvious amusement. “Ah, well. Next time, Julia can give you a few pointers on finding better accommodations.”

Julia’s cheeks warmed despite her best efforts to remain unaffected. “Sergi,” she warned.

He grinned unabashedly, then turned back to Roan, his tone shifting to something more serious. “The last of Hutu’s ships departed an hour ago. It’s safe now. La’Rue and I will take you where you need to go.”

Roan gave a brief nod. “Thank you.”

Sergi’s expression lightened slightly. “Actually, La’Rue and I won’t be sticking around after that. We’re heading out to meet with Crock.”

Julia frowned. “Who’s Crock?”

“The leader of the freighter captains,” Sergi explained. “La’Rue thinks he might be able to help the resistance—or at least provide some much-needed information.”

“Can he be trusted?” Roan asked, folding his arms across his chest.

Sergi’s mouth quirked into a half-smile. “Define ‘trusted.’ Crock has his own code. He’s not a fan of the Legion, though, and he’s got eyes and ears in places most people don’t even know exist. If anyone knows what the Legion’s planning, it’s him. Well, besides you, of course,” he amended, looking at Roan before continuing. “Still, the more eyes we have out there, the better, eh?”

Roan nodded thoughtfully. “I agree.”

Sergi’s eyes darkened slightly as he added, “Ash and Kella won’t be joining us. They’ve been redirected.”

Julia’s brow furrowed in concern. “Why? What happened?”

Sergi exchanged a brief glance with Roan before answering. “Kella received intel about a new threat. A Turbinta assassin named Zoak has been tasked with finding a man named Dorane.”

Roan’s calm expression flickered for a split second before hardening. “Zoak.” His voice was low, almost a growl. “You’re sure?”

Sergi nodded. “Ash wouldn’t have passed it along if he wasn’t.”

Roan released a soft curse, running a hand through his hair. The tension in his body was palpable, the surrounding air suddenly heavier.

Julia glanced between them, her pulse quickening. “Okay, who is Dorane?”

Roan exhaled slowly, his eyes locking on hers. “Someone very important—and very dangerous. He has a personal army that if he joined with the Gallant rebels could rival the Legion. My father and uncle will do everything in their power to make sure that doesn’t happen, including having Dorane terminated. That won’t be an easy mission.”

“And Zoak?” she pressed, sensing the gravity of his words.

Roan’s jaw clenched. “Zoak is a ghost. A shadow. He’s not sent to find people. He’s sent to eliminate them.”

The corridor seemed to shrink around them, the hum of the engines now sounding more ominous than reassuring. Sergi’s usual light-heartedness faded completely, his expression grim.

“If Zoak’s been sent after Dorane, it means the Legion’s accelerating their plans to annihilate the rebel factions more quickly than we thought and realize that Dorane won’t be happy with their methods. It would cut into his revenue streams,” Roan said quietly.

Sergi lifted an eyebrow. “Which is to…?”

---