Page 103 of Galactic Sentinels: Vol 2
Silence.
The Penubian straightens, blood dripping from his teeth. He surveys the room. He’s just shown exactly what kind of threat he is. Now everyone knows.
That’s why he hasn’t trained since arriving. He doesn’t need to. He’s a weapon. And he just picked the perfect moment to prove it.
Ralf stumbles backward, pale.
The others edge away from the Penubian, who casually returns to his pod.
Two guards come and drag Donald’s body away. Tomorrow, someone new will take his place—gotta keep the show going.
Slowly, things return to normal, as if nothing happened. People go back to their routines. They stop looking at me… or wanting me.
But I can’t shake the fear. Without Ayden… and Nov… I might’ve become just another form of entertainment.
My hands won’t stop trembling. My heart won’t calm down. I try to breathe, slowly, deeply. But I can’t stop seeing their faces, hearing the scream, feeling the fangs in my mind.
I catch Ayden’s gaze. He says nothing, but I see the worry in his eyes.
Nov’s already back on the floor, unmoved. How does he stay so cold? Does that Penubian not scare him?
Disturbed, I head toward my bunk. I slide in feet first, then, once I’m out of sight, I take off my dress and lay it over me like a flimsy, makeshift blanket.
Familiar. Pointless, maybe, but familiar.
I don’t pull down the blackout shade. Ayden’s supposed to come after his shower.
Maybe, if I’m lucky, sleep will take me before he gets here.
I don’t want to talk. Don’t want to explain how I feel, or answer the questions in his eyes.
But my mind keeps spinning, stuck on that helpless feeling, that dull, gnawing fear that won’t let go.
Eventually, exhaustion catches up with me.
I crash hard, slipping into sleep like falling into a void. But peace doesn’t come. Inside my head, images blur together—violent, jarring. Hateful faces. Grabbing hands. Cruel laughter. I’m running barefoot across a cold floor, but my legs won’t move. I try to scream, but no sound comes out.
I jolt awake all at once, heart pounding, throat dry. The bunk is still. But my mind’s still screaming.
I know I’ve woken Ayden. I don’t even have to look.
His body has tensed, ready for action.
He doesn’t say a word, but I can feel his gaze on me in the dark. There’s a long moment of silence. I don’t know why, but I whisper, “Nightmare.”
A rustle. A breath. Then he answers, low, steady.
“I’m here.”
I should say thank you, or I’m fine, or something that would push him away gently. But I don’t. Instead, I shift, turning toward the narrow wall that separates us. My heart is still racing. My skin is damp with sweat.
Another breath. Then a sound. His bunk creaks faintly as he moves.
“Sam…” he murmurs, a question hanging in the air.
I swallow hard.
“Could you… just stay close? Not talk. Just… stay.”
