Page 64 of Zayrik

The marks along my arms weren’t just a symbol, they were a vow.

A legacy older than blood.

Proof that Alaran males were forged for more than war.

We were meant for this. To protect our mates. To love them unconditionally.

I saw her as an equal.

But the protector in me would die before letting her fall.

And whatever came next, whatever battles, whatever choices, we’d face them together.

Because she was my purpose now.

Not just worth fighting for—

She was worth everything.

The bond thrummed under my skin, not uncertain, not waiting.

But claiming space in every breath, every thought.

A constant reminder that I wasn’t just a blade anymore.

The Protectorate had trained me to be a weapon.

Precise. Detached. Unshakable.

But Nyla made me want to be more than that.

Not to tame her. She’d never be caged.

But to stand with her.

To be the shield at her back.

To be the one thing she’d never had—

Someone who stayed.

CINDREL STATION LOOMEDahead, and I could feel her tension rising. This wasn’t just another port, another hiding place.

This meant something to her.

Which meant it meant something to me.

I wanted to offer my support by holding her hand, letting her know she wasn’t on her own in facing whatever was ahead.

I watched her prepare for docking, admiring the efficiency of her movements, the strength in her focus. She wasn’t justsurviving anymore. She was fighting back. Against Vask. Against her past. Against everything that had tried to break her.

And I would be there, not because of duty.

Not because of the mission.

But because something in my soul had recognized her as essential.

As home.

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