Page 66 of Zeke
“I know.”
Her breathing evened out, deepening into sleep. He held her as the stars wheeled overhead. His legion purred contentment through his blood and the fragment in Michelle pulsed in time with his own. A harmony he’d never imagined.
He’d spent years thinking he was broken. A monster in the shape of a male. But here, under alien stars with his mate in his arms, he understood the truth. Every scar, every lonely night, every moment of rage and pain. They had all led him here.
To her.
His kelarris shifted in her sleep, burrowing closer and he tightened his arms around her. Whatever came next, they’d meet it together. The thought had terrified him before. Caring for someone meant having something to lose. He smiled as he dropped a kiss on her soft hair and held her closer.
She was his to protect, his to cherish, his to love. And he was hers. The marks on his wrists pulsed with warmth. The gods’ own confirmation of what he already knew.
They were home.
Michelle’s fingers drummed against her thigh as she and Zeke waited outside Prince Isan’s office. The metal door remained stubbornly closed. A week of living with their suspicions about Kraath had left a metallic taste in her mouth but now they were here, she was nervous. Even with Zeke beside her, a constant, solid warmth, the recycled air in the corridor felt too thin to breathe.
“Stop that.” His hand covered hers, stilling the nervous movement. The warmth of his palm sent comfort through their bond, the legion fragment in her mind humming contentment.
“I’m not nervous.” The lie was automatic. HIs eyebrow climbed, and a rueful smile touched her lips. She hated that he could read her so easily. “Fine. What if he thinks we’re paranoid?”
“Then he’s an idiot.” His thumb traced circles on her wrist, finding the spot where her pulse hammered. “Which he’s not. The evidence is solid.”
The door hissed open before she could respond. Prince Isan stood in the doorway, his healer’s scars catching the overhead lights. His expression was neutral, professional, but something flickered in his eyes as he took in their joined hands.
“Michelle. Zeke.” He stepped aside, gesturing them in. “Thank you for coming.”
The office was exactly what she’d expected. Organized, efficient, with medical equipment lining one wall and tactical displays on another.
“Please, sit.” The prince moved behind his desk, a sleek piece of Izaean tech that looked carved from black glass. “Your message mentioned concerns about garrison security.”
Her throat went dry. Now that the moment had arrived, the words stuck behind her teeth. Zeke’s hand found her knee under the desk, a gentle squeeze that said you got this.
“It’s about Commander Kraath.” The words finally came, steady despite her racing heart. “Specifically, something we discovered during the rescue mission.”
Isan’s expression didn’t change, but his fingers stilled on the data pad he’d been holding. “Go on.”
“When we were tracking the ferals, Raaze went through Kraath’s pack.” She leaned forward, the tightness in her chest easing as she moved into familiar territory. “He found a notebook. The contents were encrypted, but not in any Izaean script. They were written in Late English.”
“Late English.” Isan’s voice remained neutral, but he tilted his head in curiosity. “What is that?”
She leaned forward, her words tumbling out faster. “Late English was an Earth language used before Earth pulled itself out of its last technological dark age. We abandoned it when we began using standardized Terran due to the new colonies and linguistic drift.”
“You’re certain?”
“Completely.” She’d found her footing now. “I studied historical linguistics as part of my engineering training. You need it to understand some of the old technical manuals. Late English hasn’t been actively used by humans in over five hundred years. It’s a dead language.”
“And Kraath had notes written in this dead language.” Isan set down the data pad completely, giving them his full attention. “What did they say?”
Michelle glanced at Zeke, who took over smoothly. “Research notes, from what Michelle could translate quickly.”
“What kind of research?” Isan’s fingers stilled on his data pad.
She took a breath. “About the existence of female ferals. Not theoretical notes or speculation, but actual scientific documentation. Genetic markers... that kind of thing.”
Isan nodded slowly, and she got the feeling this wasn’t news to him.
“You’ve done well to bring this to me.” His voice carried weight now, each word carefully chosen. “This information is valuable. More than you know.”
“You believe us?” The words came out on a shaky exhale.
