Page 94 of Star Claimed Omega
Translucent art panels displayed scenes from planets long gone, glowing from within. The office ceilings soared above, trailing clusters of pendant lights that glimmered like tiny galaxies.
Even the silence here seemed curated, layered with mellow chimes and filtered air fragrant with mint and sky berries.
It made Soleil aware of the dust in her cuffs, the sweat under her arms, the slight damp at her neckline.
She pushed her bangs from her forehead, resisting the urge to wipe her armpits when Miral wasn’t looking.
Despite her mounting dread, their small talk continued.
She told Miral about a stunning bird she spotted that morning, with bright, blue plumage and a curved beak, and how it’d danced in the sand.
Miral responded with interest, her dulcet tones calming, never missing a beat.
Still, Soleil’s pulse didn’t slow. Not once.
Because beneath the civility, she sensed the inevitability of her demise like the tempo of a war drum against her conscience.
Her reckoning was coming, and she didn’t know whether to brace or run.
The moment Soleil stepped into Santi’s office, the air shifted.
He was leaning against the edge of his vast desk, one hip on its polished steel surface, the other boot planted on the floor.
Arms folded over his broad chest, the tight, obsidian uniform clung to his body like a second skin, emphasizing every contour.
So sexy, strong, and potent asfokk.
Her heart lurched, first in fear, then in confusion, because when she looked into his eyes, she didn’t find fury or betrayal.
She found softness.
‘Door shut, please, privacy shield,’ he rasped, his voice lower than usual.
Behind her, the heavy doors slid closed with a hiss.
A veil of iridescent light dropped in front of them, sealing the room in a dome of prismatic shimmer.
The world outside faded into a blur of colors, distorted shapes, and muffled sound. It was like being enclosed inside a soap bubble at the moment before it popped, beautiful, tense, fragile.
Santi extended a hand, motioning her toward him.
Her limbs seemed carved from stone as she moved stiffly into his orbit.
When he wrapped his arms around her and bent to press his lips to her forehead, it was gentle.
However, it didn’t undo the tight coil of dread in her chest.
‘What’s this about?’ she whispered, scarcely able to breathe.
He didn’t answer. Instead, he turned to Miral. ‘Show her what you shared with me.’
Miral’s projection shimmered beside them. A soft pulse of light illuminated the space between them as a holographic file opened. A face filled the display.
Soleil went cold.
Her own face stared back at her, ten years younger, thinner, with lengthier hair, hollowed eyes, and a haunted expression.
Name: Scarletta D.
