Page 46 of Zayrik

I didn’t know if I’d stop him.

And worse?

I didn’t want to.

The crystal served as a constant reminder of why I couldn’t afford to lose focus. Of why kissing Zayrik had been more than just a mistake.... it had been dangerous. For both of us.

Because Vask wouldn’t just kill me when he found me. He’d destroy anything.... Anyone I cared about, first. That’s who he was. What he did.

And now I’d given him another target.

I pressed my palm flat against the cold wall of the supply room, trying to ground myself. Trying not to remember how easily Zayrik had seen through my defenses. How he’d known about Vask before I’d told him, had been hunting him too.

That should have made it easier.

Should have made it safer.

Instead, it made everything more complicated.

Because now when I looked at him, I didn’t just see a Protectorate warrior who could either help me or turn me in. I saw someone who understood.

Someone I could get killed.

Zep chirped again, softer this time. Concerned.

“I’m fine,” I whispered, but the words felt hollow.

Because I wasn’t fine. I was terrified. Not of Vask, not entirely. But of the way Zayrik made me feel. Of how badly I wanted to trust him. To let him in.

My hand found the crystal in my jacket. A reminder of everything at stake. Of why I couldn’t afford to let anyone close enough to matter.

But it was too late for that.

Because Zayrik already mattered.

And that kiss had only proved what I’d been trying to deny.

I pushed away from the wall, squaring my shoulders. I had to focus. Had to remember why I was here. What I was fighting for.

The crystal could bring down Vask’s entire operation. Could stop him from destroying more lives, more families. More futures.

I couldn’t let one kiss—one moment of weakness—jeopardize that.

Even if part of me wanted nothing more than to go back to that cargo hold. To feel his hands on my skin again. To pretend, just for a moment, that I could have both: the mission and him.

But I couldn’t.

And the sooner I accepted that, the better.

16

Zayrik

THE OUTPOST CAME INTOview like something dragged from a scrapyard and reassembled by blind hands. Rust, plating, exposed wiring. Function over safety, if that. The sight of it made my skin crawl, but I kept my expression neutral.

What bothered me more was how tense Nyla had gotten the moment it appeared on our screens. Like she was preparing for a fight she knew was coming.

Katar Station had been rough.

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