Page 67 of Zeke
“I believe evidence.” The prince returned to his desk, fingers flying over the data pad. “And what you’ve presented aligns with other concerns that have been raised.”
Zeke’s hand tightened on her knee. “What kind of concerns?”
“The kind I can’t discuss yet.” Isan’s expression softened slightly. “But know that your vigilance is appreciated. Both of you. The garrison owes you a debt.”
“We don’t want to be owed.” She found her voice again, stronger now. “We want the garrison safe. This is our home now.”
Something shifted in Isan’s expression at that. A warmth that hadn’t been there before.
“Yes. It is.”
He stood, clearly ending the meeting. “I need you both to keep this conversation private for now. Can you do that?”
“Of course.” Zeke stood, helping Michelle to her feet with a hand at her elbow. The gesture was automatic now, his protective instincts woven into every movement.
“Good.” Isan moved around the desk to escort them out. “And Michelle? Your linguistic skills might be needed again. Would you be willing to assist if necessary?”
“Without question.” This was her community now, her people to protect.
The door hissed shut behind them, and she sighed in relief. The corridor’s recycled air felt fresh after the intensity of Isan’s office. Zeke’s hand found hers immediately, fingers interlacing with practiced ease.
“That went well.” His thumb traced patterns on her palm as they walked. “He took us seriously.”
“He already knew something.” Her mind raced through the implications. “Did you see his face when I mentioned Late English? He recognized the significance immediately.”
“Means we were right to be suspicious.” Zeke pulled her closer as they navigated around a group of warriors heading to training. “Also means the threat is real.”
The low hum of the garrison’s ventilation system was a constant companion in the corridors. It was almost loud enough to cover the sound of pounding feet until the noise was nearly on top of them.
She turned to see Kal and Tor sprinting toward them, their teenage energy barely contained by the corridor’s confines.
“Zeke! Michelle!” Kal skidded to a stop, his breath coming in excited gasps. “Raaze organized a warball game! Real warball, not the training version.”
Tor’s red eyes glowed brighter with enthusiasm. “He says humans can play too. Something about proving they’re not completely useless.”
She snorted. “That sounds like Raaze.”
“You have to come watch.” Kal practically bounced. “The whole garrison’s heading to the western training ground. Even some of the construction crew want to try.”
“What do you think?” Zeke’s question was soft, meant just for her. “Want to watch Raaze get his ass handed to him?”
“Someone needs to document it for posterity.” She grinned, the weight of the meeting sliding off her shoulders.
“We’re going to be late if we don’t move.” Kal grabbed Tor’s arm, already pulling him down the corridor. “Come on!”
The teenagers took off again, their laughter echoing off the walls. She watched them go, something loosening in her chest.
This was what they’d fought for... not just survival, but life. Real life with all its mundane wonders.
“Shall we?” Zeke gestured after the boys, amusement dancing in his yellow eyes.
“Lead the way.” She squeezed his hand, feeling the pulse of contentment from both parts of the legion—his and the fragment that lived in her now. “But if Raaze tries to recruit me to play, you’re telling him no.”
“Like that would stop you.” His laugh rumbled through the corridor. “You’d probably volunteer just to prove him wrong about human females.”
She grinned. “You know me so well.”
Epilogue
