Page 91 of Galactic Sentinels: Vol 2
I limp over as fast as I can.
“She sabotaged multiple doses of Zebulon!” he snarls. “She needs a lesson.”
I don’t hesitate. I slam into him full force. He stumbles, shocked. We grapple. He’s younger, fitter—but I’m heavier, faster, more desperate. I smash him against the wall, panting.
“Touch her again, and I’ll rip your hand off,” I growl, lethal.
He sizes me up, hesitating, then backs off. Good. He’s not a complete idiot.
“I’ll report this to Danuk. Next time she pulls something, she’ll answer to him,” he snaps, storming off.
He spits on the ground and walks out of the hangar, leaving the two of us alone.
I turn toward her. She’s sitting against the wall, arms wrapped tightly around her knees.
She finally looks at me—and in her eyes, there’s no anger left. Just exhaustion. A deep, bone-deep weariness… and a fear she’s trying hard to hide.
“Is it true?” I ask, my voice rougher than I intended.
“You sabotaged the Zebulon?”
She stares at me, eyes glistening, and slowly nods.
“Just today’s batch, yes. Because I can’t stand helping them. This drug is a plague. We’re way beyond the mild relaxant I used to synthesize in my Gekkari lab. Zebulon here is fifty times more concentrated! Without strict monitoring, it’s potentially lethal!”
“That’s not your concern!” I snap. “"The only thing you should care about is staying alive.”
“They’re watching everything I do,” she says quietly. “Once the Zebulon formula is perfected, they won’t need me anymore. And when that happens… what do you think they’ll do? They’re not going to keep me around forever. You and I both know what that means. They’ll get rid of me.”
I don’t respond. We both know exactly what’ll happen to her once she’s no longer useful. She’ll be sold off to a slave market… just like the one I used to run not so long ago.
The thought makes my whole body recoil.
Right here, in this cold hangar, staring into her eyes, I make a promise: If I win in the arena—if I take back the throne I lost—she will never meet that fate.
I won’t let her vanish into the shadows like so many others.
Not her.
This promise doesn’t make sense. I know that.
The old Noviosk would’ve never made such a vow.
He would’ve seen her as a variable. A casualty. A potential asset. He would’ve calculated, weighed, and decided based on what best served his interests.
But I’m not entirely that man anymore.
Something’s changed.
Maybe it’s the fact that she saw me at my lowest—and didn’t leave me there, even though she could have.
Maybe it’s because she cared for me, expected nothing in return.
Maybe it’s because she looked at me like I was still alive. Like I was a friend—even human, somehow.
Or maybe it’s because, despite all my claims…
I don’t want to lose her.
