Chapter 12

12

T raax was left standing in the corridor, his gaze fixed on Zara's retreating figure as she stormed away. The sight of her running from him, her auburn hair swaying with each furious step, sent a wave of bitter anger through him. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, the nails digging into his palms hard enough to draw blood. But he barely noticed, his attention consumed by the swirl of emotions inside.

He thought she was different. Thought they'd shared something and that she could come to understand the ways of his people. What they'd shared meant to him… But she'd rejected him, had her fun and cast him aside as if what they'd shared meant nothing.

A low growl rumbled in his chest, his lips pulling back from his teeth as ferally as if he were one of the Vorrtan. She was his mate, his to claim and own. And he would have her, no matter the cost.

He looked down at his wrists, at the marks that stood out stark against his skin. Fierce, primal satisfaction rolled through him at the sight. Mating marks. They were a sign of the gods' approval of his union with Zara. A sign that in their eyes, she was his .

He ground his teeth. He would make her see what they shared mattered… that she was bound to him now. He would make her understand the depth of his desire, the intensity of his need. He would conquer her, body and soul, until she had no choice but to submit to him.

A cold, calculating smile curved his lips, and then she would pay for her rejection. He would make sure of it.

He turned on his heel, his boots thudding against the metal floor as he strode off. He had preparations to make and plans to set in motion, but first, he had to deal with Zyax.

His cousin's name brought a new wave of anger, hot and bitter in the back of his throat. His cousin had dared to approach Zara, had dared to threaten what was his.He could not allow the insult to stand.

He stalked down the corridor. The Lathar he passed scrambled out of his way; their heads bowed in deference. But he paid them no mind, his focus laser-sharp and unwavering.

The air grew colder as he descended into the bowels of the station, and the light became dimmer and harsher. The walls were pitted and scarred, and the floor was scuffed and dented from the countless boots that had walked them. The smell of sweat and metal hung heavily in the air, a reminder of the battles the Devan'kra had fought and won.

He barely noticed, his mind consumed with thoughts of Zyax and Zara. Of the revenge he would take and the prize he would claim.

Rounding a corner, his eyes narrowed as he caught sight of Zyax. His cousin leaned against a wall, his posture casual and insolent. But Traax saw the tension in his shoulders, the worry in his eyes as he turned and caught sight of Traax heading toward him.

Good. He should be worried. He should be more than worried. He should be terrified.

Traax's lips curled into a snarl, his hands clenched at his sides as he approached. Zyax straightened, pushing himself away from the wall. But before he could speak, Traax was there, right on top of him.

He didn't give Zyax time to speak. Instead, he grabbed him and slammed his cousin against the wall, a forearm pressed against his throat. Zyax's eyes bulged as he clawed at Traax's arm, but he only pressed harder, leaning in until his face was inches from his cousin's.

"You dare approach what is mine?" he growled, his voice deep and dangerous. "You dare approach my female?"

Zyax somehow managed to smirk even as he struggled for air. Instantly, he wanted to wipe it from his face.

"She didn't seem to think she was yours," he snapped. "In fact, she was quite eager for my attention."

His vision turned red, a roar of rage filling his ears. He slammed Zyax against the wall again, the metal buckling under the force of the impact.

"Liar," he growled. "She is my mate, and you will never touch her again."

His cousin's eyes glittered with malice as he let out a choked laugh. "Your mate? I don't think so. She was practically begging for it."

Traax's hand shot out, wrapping around his throat. He squeezed, cutting the draanthic's lies off and watching with savage satisfaction as Zyax's face turned purple.

"You will never speak of her again," he said, his voice low and deadly. "You will not even think of her. If I even suspect you're thinking about her, I will rip out your tongue and feed it to you."

He shoved Zyax to crumple to the floor, his hands on his throat as he gasped for breath. His cousin looked up, dark, bitter hatred burning in his eyes. But he also saw fear, a dawning realization of just how far Traax was willing to go.

"She came to me," he rasped, his voice hoarse and strained. "She wanted me, Traax. You should have seen the way she looked at me, the way she smiled. She may as well have been naked on her knees."

Traax's hands clenched into fists again. The thought of Zara looking at Zyax… at any other male like that, of her wanting anyone but him, made his blood boil. But he kept his face carefully blank, refusing to give his draanthic cousin the satisfaction of seeing him react.

"You're lying," he said, his voice cold and flat. "Just because a human smiles at you doesn't mean they want you. Humans are social, they like people… It doesn't mean they want to leap into bed with them. And Zara is my mate. She would never betray me."

"Are you so sure of that, cousin?" Zyax's lips curled into a sneer. "She didn't seem very loyal when she pressed herself against me in the corridor. But now you mention it, she did seem very… social."

A low growl rumbled in Traax's chest, his muscles tense with the effort of holding himself back. All he wanted to do was tear Zyax apart, to make him pay for even suggesting such a disgusting thing. But he forced himself to take a deep breath, to think beyond the haze of rage that clouded his mind. He couldn't kill Zyax. Not right here and now, anyway. The hassle and paperwork he would have to wade through would be a total ballache. Far better to bide his time. A training exercise gone wrong, maybe… Or he could turn the assassins he was fairly sure his cousin would now send after him back on Zyax. That would be poetic justice.

"You will stay away from her," he said, each word precise and measured. "You will not speak to her, you will not look at her, you will not even breathe in her direction. If you do, I will make you regret the day you were born."

Zyax opened his mouth to reply, but Traax cut him off with a sharp gesture.

"I don't want to hear your lies," he growled. "Stay away from what's mine and maybe you'll continue to breathe."

With that, he turned on his heel and stalked away. He felt Zyax's eyes boring into his back, could practically taste the hatred rolling off his cousin in waves. But he didn't care.

All he cared about was Zara. She was his and he would make sure she and everyone else never forgot that. No matter what it took, no matter how long it took, he would make her his.

And may the gods help anyone who got in his way.

Traax strode onto the flight deck, his boots ringing out against the metal floor. The vast space stretched out before him, the gleaming hulls of the V'Pirus fighters lined up in perfect rows. His attention was immediately drawn to the crowd gathered in the center of the deck. A frown creased his brow. It wasn't a briefing, that much was certain. If it was, he would have been informed. No, this had more of the appearance of a lynch mob.

As he approached, the warriors parted to reveal a battered and bloodied male on his knees, his hands tied behind his back. The deck chief, Kaaz, stood over him, his expression grim and his eyes hard as flint. Four more males were also tied up, but they were unharmed. Their clothing marked them as one of the maintenance crews.

"What's going on?" Traax demanded, his voice cutting through the babble of chatter from the assembled crowd, a mixture of pilots and deck crew.

Kaaz looked up, his silver and teal hair glinting in the harsh deck lights. "My lord," he said, bowing his head briefly. "This male is a saboteur. We caught him tampering with the fighters."

His blood ran cold. Purist terrorists had been a growing problem in recent months, ever since the alliance with the humans. These fanatics saw all other races as inferior, unworthy of even breathing the same air. They had long believed the empire shouldn't mix DNA with any other species, not even one as closely related as humanity.

"How many fighters were affected?" Traax asked, his voice tight with barely contained anger.

"Ten, my lord," Kaaz replied. "I've had them removed from the roster, and teams are working to repair the damage. We're also conducting a thorough inspection of all the other fighters to make sure there are no more surprises."

Traax nodded, his jaw clenching. Ten fighters out of commission was a significant blow, but it could have been much worse. If the saboteur had managed to disable more, or if his actions had gone undetected...

He didn't want to think about the consequences.

The saboteur raised his head, his eyes meeting Traax's. No fear, no remorse, shone in his eyes. Not that he'd expected there to be. As he thought, he saw a fanatical gleam, a twisted pride in what he'd done.

"You are a fool, K'Saan," the male spat blood onto the floor. "Siding with the humans, polluting our bloodlines with their filth. You're a traitor to your own kind."

His hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around the male's throat. He squeezed, watching with cold satisfaction as the male's eyes widened when his air was cut off.

"I am no traitor," he growled. "Like all others here, I am a warrior, sworn to protect and serve the empire. And I will not tolerate anyone who threatens that."

He shoved the traitor away, letting him fall to the floor in a gasping heap. Turning to Kaaz, he opened his mouth to give further orders but then froze.

"Did anyone check if he or any of his crew had access to the human fighter deck?" he asked, his voice carefully controlled.

Silence fell, heavy and oppressive.

"Well?" he demanded, his voice like a whip in the air. "Someone must know. Check the job records!"

Finally, one of the control officers spoke. "It appears that they did, my lord. This morning."

"Draanth!"

His jaw tightened, a growl rumbling in his throat. The thought of the saboteurs anywhere near Zara and her pilots made his blood boil, a red haze of rage descending over his vision.

"Where are the humans now?" he asked, his voice tight with barely contained anger.

"On patrol, my lord," the officer replied, his eyes wide with concern.

Traax's heart all but stopped, a wave of terror washing over him. Zara, his mate, was out there, flying a fighter that could have been tampered with. A fighter that could fail at any moment and send her hurtling to her death in the cold depths of space.

No. He wouldn't let that happen. He couldn't.

"Get them back here, now," he ordered, his voice cracking like a whip. "I want every human fighter recalled and inspected, down to the last bolt and screw. And I want it done yesterday."

The flight deck erupted in a flurry of activity as officers scrambled to obey his orders. He barely registered it, other than to step aside as officers scattered, all his mental processing taken up with thoughts of his little mate.

He pictured her in his mind's eye… her auburn hair gleaming under the lights of the flight deck and her violet eyes sparkling with laughter as she joked with her team. The thought of losing her, of never seeing that smile again, made his chest ache with a pain he'd never known before. No, not pain… agony. Even if she ended up rejecting him entirely, he couldn't bear the thought of the universe without her in it.

She was his mate. He had to protect her, no matter the cost. Even if she hated him for it, even if she never forgave him, he would do whatever it took to ensure her survival.

"I want this scum interrogated," he said to Kaaz, jerking his chin toward the saboteur. "Find out who he's working with, what their plans are. And then..."

He paused, and his lips curled into a snarl. "And then make an example of him. Show the others what happens to those who dare to threaten the empire."

Kaaz nodded, his expression grim. "It will be done, my lord."

Traax turned away, striding toward the control room. He needed to contact Zara and reassure himself that she was all right. And then...

Then he would hunt down every last Purist scum on the station, beyond even, and make them pay for even thinking of harming her. He would bathe the stars in their blood and rip out their still-beating hearts with his bare hands. Because she was his—his mate, his love, his everything—and he would burn the universe to ashes before he let anyone take her from him.

When he entered the control room, the officers snapped to attention. Traax ignored them, his gaze fixed on the viewscreen that dominated the far wall.

It showed a live feed of the human fighter wing's flight pattern, the dots that represented their sleek ships cutting through the darkness of space like silver arrows. And there, at the head of the formation, was Zara's fighter.

Traax's breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding against his ribs. She was all right. She was safe.

For now.

He reached for the comm, his fingers flying over the controls as he tried to hail Zara's fighter.

"Za—Ghost." He corrected himself quickly. "This is Devan Station flight control. Come in."

But there was no response, only the hiss of static filling the air.

" Draanth it, Zara… can you hear me?"

Frustration hit him hard and fast, his heart pounding in his chest. Why wasn't she responding? She wasn't that far away from the station so the signal should reach her loud and clear.

The doors to the control room slid open, and Zhain strode in, his expression grim. Traax turned to him.

"I can't reach the human flight wing. Get Zara on the comm," he ordered, his voice a low growl as he pointed at the console in front of him. "Now."

"Did you remember that the human fighters' comms systems operate on a different frequency to ours?" Zhain asked as he slid into the chair, his fingers already moving across the console.

Traax tipped his head back, a groan in the back of his throat. He hadn't. A moment later, Zara's face appeared on the screen, her brow furrowed in concern. Traax's gaze locked on to her, drinking her in. She was alive, unhurt. For now.

"Zhain?" she asked, her voice tinny over the comm. "What's going on?"

Zhain glanced up at Traax, his expression carefully neutral.

"Sorry to interrupt your patrol, but we need you and your flight to run diagnostics on your fighters," he said, his tone even. "Immediately."

The crease between Zara's brows deepened. "Why? What happened?"

Zhain hesitated, but Traax interrupted, his voice hard. "Tell her the truth," he commanded. "All of it."

"Yes, my lord." Zhain nodded and returned his attention to the female on the screen.

"We caught someone tampering with our fighters," he explained. "We believe he may have had access to your ships as well."

Zara's eyes widened, shock and anger spreading across her face a second before she locked it down, and her expression returned to normal—calm and professional. "What? How is that possible?"

"Purists," Traax snarled, the name on his tongue like poison. "They believe we should not mix with other species, that we are superior to all others. They want to destroy the alliance between the Lathar and humanity... by any means necessary."

Zara's jaw clenched, a tiny muscle in the corner pulsing. "Yeah, right… not on my watch."

She turned away from the screen, her voice ringing out over the comm as she addressed her squadron. "All right, ladies, listen up. It appears there's been a bit of an issue back at the station. I need you all to run a full diagnostic on your fighters, right now. Check every system and subroutine. If anything looks the least bit off, I want to know about it."

A chorus of acknowledgment from the other human pilots followed, and then silence fell as they set to work. Traax watched the screen, his heart in his throat as he waited for the results. Only by extreme force of will did he keep himself still. All he wanted to do was get in his own fighter and head out there to rescue her… well, all the humans, but his primary focus was the beautiful human female on the screen in front of him. He couldn't look away, wondering if this was the last time he would see her.

And so much was left unsaid between them.

Minutes ticked by, each one an eternity. And then, finally, Zara looked up at the camera in her cockpit. It was like she was looking directly into his soul.

"All clear on our end," she reported. "No signs of any tampering or sabotage."

Traax let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding as relief washed over him in a dizzying wave. She was safe—thank all the gods. She was safe.

But his relief was short-lived. A second later, another of the female pilots spoke, her voice crackling over the comm. "Hold up… Boss, I've got something on your ship. Sending scan data now."

Draanth.

"I see it. I mean… I have no fucking clue what I'm looking at, but I see it," Zara said with a frown and then looked up at them. "Sharing scan data with the station. What are we looking at?"

Traax and Zhain leaned forward, their eyes glued to the screen as the data streamed in. As the image resolved, they both went pale, the color draining from their faces.

"No," Traax whispered, his hands clenched so hard around the edge of the console he felt it crack under the pressure. "It can't be."

But there was no mistaking the device attached to the underside of Zara's fighter, its sleek, deadly shape all too familiar.

Zara's face reappeared on the screen, her brow furrowed in concern. "What is it?" she asked, her voice tight.

Traax swallowed hard.

"Zara," he said, his voice hoarse with fear. "There's a queshikall attached to your fighter."

Confusion flashed across her face. "A what? A keshikall? What's that?"

Zhain leaned forward, his expression grim. "It's a bomb," he explained. "A planet killer. If it is detonated anywhere near Devan Station, it will rip through the hulls and kill everyone on board in seconds."

Zara's face paled, horror dawning in her eyes. "So… if I try to land..."

"You can't," Traax said, his voice cracking. "If that bomb goes off on the station, it will set off a chain reaction in the orbital engines. The blast will be massive, powerful enough to..."

He trailed off, unable to finish the thought. But Zhain picked up where he left off, his voice flat and unemotional.

"It will devastate Earth," he said softly, his words falling like a death knell in the sudden silence of the room. "Millions will die, the planet's surface wiped clean of life in a fiery cataclysm. The ecosystem will collapse, the atmosphere will burn away... it will be the end of human civilization as you know it."

Zara stared at them, her face a mask of shock and disbelief.

"Nope." She shook her head firmly. "Not happening. There's got to be something we can do, some way to stop it or deactivate it."

Traax shook his head, despair and fear twisting in his gut like a knife.

"There's nothing we can do," he said, the words like ashes in his mouth. " Queshikall are either manually detonated or proximity triggered. As it's not already gone off, it's got to be a proximity trigger. Which means the target is Devan Station and Earth itself. If you try to land, or even get too close to the station or Earth... it's over. For all of us."

"Why not just detonate it on the station?" she asked sharply. "Why go to all this trouble of sabotaging my fighter to get me to bring it in?"

Zyax. Traax swallowed. His cousin was a purist. He had to be. That was the only reason they would target his mate.

"We have systems aboard that would register a payload of this size, and we'd be able to get to it in time."

Zara was silent for long moments, her eyes distant and unfocused. He could almost see the thoughts racing behind them, the desperate search for a solution, a way out. But there wasn't one.

"Nova, take command of the squadron and return to base," Zara's voice was calm and professional, her expression unchanged as she met his gaze through the cam.

"There's only one thing I can do," she said. "I have to get this thing as far away from here as I can and detonate it where it can't hurt anyone else."

"No," he growled, his voice ragged. "Zara, you can't... I won't let you..."

But she shook her head, a sad smile curving the corners of her lips.

"I have no choice," she said softly. "You know it and I know it. If I try to land, I'll kill everyone on the station… and on Earth."