Page 50 of Zayrik

I followed, slamming the lock. Wanting nothing more than to pull her against me, to check she wasn’t hurt. To convince myself she was safe.

The ship screamed as systems came back online.

Engines roared.

Stabilizers whined.

Every sound a countdown to escape.

We launched from the dock just as a blast rocked the exterior port wall. The impact rattled through the hull, through my bones.

Nyla stood near the cockpit door, breathing hard. Her chest rising and falling rapidly, hair wild from the run. Beautiful in a way that made my throat tight.

Zep fluttered onto her shoulder like he’d been waiting this whole time just to scold her. His soft chirp of concern making her smile slightly, despite everything.

I took the pilot’s seat and muttered, “They’re going to track us.” My hands moved over the controls, muscle memory taking over while my mind stayed fixed on her.

“Let them try,” she snapped, but there was something beneath the anger. Something raw.

I glanced at her. “Care to tell me who that was?”

She stared ahead. “No.”

“Going to tell me how he knew your name?”

“No.”

I gritted my teeth.

My hands flexed on the controls, wanting to reach for her instead.

She finally turned.

Eyes fierce.

Tired.

Cornered.

Beautiful in ways that made my chest ache.

“He used to work for Vask.”

I looked ahead, watching the stars stretch thin as we hit FTL. Then I looked back at her. The blue-white light painting shadows across her face, highlighting the strength there. And the fear.

“I’m going to need the truth, Nyla. Sooner than later.”

Not just about Vask. About everything. About why the need to protect her felt like it was carved into my bones.

She didn’t flinch.

Didn’t lie.

Didn’t walk away.

Just stood there, watching me with eyes that held too many secrets.

“I’m not leaving,” I said quietly. The words felt like more than a statement. Like a promise.

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