Page 69 of The Dreamer and the Deep Space Warrior
The blade finally dug into him, ripped him open, exposed him for what he truly was. A coward.
A Xaal should see their kill through, but they’d left him while he was still choking on his own blood. He wasn’t even worth the effort.
He used the last of his strength to rage at the stars. To bargain with the death gods. He’d never be weak again, if only he lived that night. He’d become strong, the mightiest Xaal Runus had ever known. The vow mixed with his blood as he spit it out into the night.
But a weak Xaal deserved death and dishonor.
And he was. Pathetic. Powerless. Unable to shape his own destiny. Unable to save his bruvya or protect Isobel. Unable to stand against his enemies.
Weak. Weak.Weak.
“Qon.”
The ruined lavender fields rose up in his vision again.
“My data suggests that they launched two hours, twenty-eight minutes, and nine seconds ago. The thermocylinders can be installed and functional within an hour. The adversaries will still read on my detection system. They want you to follow. The probability of the human female”—Ved growled at this—“of Isobel being alive is high. They are using her to get to you.”
Ved’s hearts felt like they were going to pound out of his chest. Exxo was saying words he understood and still he couldn’t move.
Weak.
“They seek to weaken you. But you are Ved Qon Cleave,”Exxo asserted fiercely in his ear. “He who cleaved two great clans and made them one. The indomitable. Isobel needs your strength now. And you do not yield.”
Ved snapped his jaws closed and attempted to shake the icy, clammy hold of that memory. Even now, he felt frozen in place, felt the buzzards closing in. But it wasn’t real. He wasn’t there. He’d survived that night, grown strong and unrivaled, and killed each of his brothers in turn. On the night he avenged himself, there’d been a fire that caught and spread. He let the flames of that memory burn in his veins.
With Isobel in the hands of the Raxans, there was no place for weakness. Sheneededhim.
He forced his body to obey, just like he had when he pulled himself out of that snow-drenched field long ago. Picking up the thermocylinders and setting off, he made the trek back to his ship in record time.
Even before he pulled himself through the hatch, there was evidence they had been there, too. Their scent still clung in the air, but Isobel’s had been strongest at the lavender field.
Once inside, Exxo ran security scans, the results coming up in flashes inside his helmet. Determining that they hadn’t destroyed or tampered with anything, Ved wasted no time going to the engine room. It took him only minutes to install the thermocylinders and power the ship fully.
It wasn’t until he’d stormed toward the front of his ship and sat in the pilot’s seat that he understood why his enemy had been there.
Lying on his screen was a strand of Isobel’s brown, curly hair. A possessive, primal noise wrenched itself from his throat.
For it wasn’t only her lock of hair—it was connected to the smallest piece of bloody scalp. And it was tied around the hilt of a blade heknew well.
He’d made it himself, after all. Had meticulously honed the bone into the sharpest of points and crafted its handle out of the finest metals, with a flat scarlet jewel set into its center.
This blade had been a gift for Kravis. For his bruvya.
Chapter 32
Isobel
She was adrift in star-scattered oceans of black.
Every time Isobel tried to grasp at consciousness, she was only pulled further under. It didn’t matter how much she clawed and fought against it.
It was endless.
Until it wasn’t.
Without warning, she was spat out. Her eyes snapped open.
Blinking red and yellow lights blurred before her. They were blinding, and she retreated from them, rearing back until her head hit something hard.
