11. Terra

ELEVEN

TERRA

If there was one good thing about dating—could you call it dating? —the scary Drakarn leader, it was that I no longer had to sneak around to find my people. I just had to ask.

But as one of Darrokar's warrior trainees lead me through narrow passages and down deep into the caverns of Scalvaris, my wariness grew. It wasn't just because of the attack. After training sessions with Darrokar, I had more than one way to get away from an attacker, but my brain still had to catch up with that.

It was dark down there, the crystals in the walls glowing so dim I had to squint to see, and I didn't spot the door until my guide came to a halt.

I stepped inside, expecting the worst .

This wasn't where they'd kept us before, and once I was through the door, it wasn't that bad. It was brighter, for one, and there was furniture.

The room was carved entirely from stone, the furniture sleek and functional, with chairs and low tables molded from the same obsidian-like material. A larger table in the corner hosted scattered supplies—rations, some clothing, and a few unfamiliar tools. Despite the relative comfort, it was clear that while this wasn’t a dungeon, it wasn’t exactly freedom either.

Hawk was the first to notice me. She rose quickly from her seat at the corner table, her tall frame unmistakable even in the dim light. The sharp intake of her breath was followed by a burst of motion as Kira and Vega turned toward the door. The flickering light cast their expressions in shifting shadows—relief, disbelief, and something sharper beneath the surface.

"Captain," Hawk said, her voice tight with suppressed emotion. She didn't need to call me that, but she must have been shaken if it slipped out. It wasn’t a title we used for familiarity there, but hearing it made my stomach twist into knots. "You’re not dead."

I couldn’t help the smallest, hollow smile. "Not quite," I said, keeping my tone light to mask the weight beneath it. As I stepped farther into the room, the atmosphere shifted. Where there had been relief, suspicion began to take root. One by one, they straightened, their eyes narrowing as they took me in.

"Where the hell have you been?" Vega's voice broke the silence, a low growl of frustration barely restrained. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, her muscular frame rigid with tension. Her eyes shone with accusation as they met mine.

"I wasn't exactly able to move around the city," I said firmly, though their reactions were fair; I would’ve felt the same. My voice was even, commanding, but my own guilt clawed at the edges of my composure. "It’s complicated—the Drakarn don't trust us."

She raised an eyebrow, the faintest smirk lifting one corner of her mouth, but it wasn’t amusement—it was cold calculation. "Complicated? That’s an impressive way to describe leaving your team stranded," she said, her words deliberately measured, barbed just enough to land their hit but not too much to be insubordinate.

My grip tightened on the edge of one of the stone chairs as I stepped fully into the room and allowed the heavy door to close behind me. "Stranded? As if I had a choice to leave you! I've been trying to find you guys for two weeks."

"That’s rich," Hawk muttered sharply, coming to stand beside Vega. The two loomed like a united front, their solidarity almost tangible. “We've been dragged around this place like cattle, interrogated repeatedly despite the fact it's clear we don't speak the language, and watched day and night by freaking alien dragon-monsters who act like we’re a zoo exhibit. Where the hell have you been?"

I flinched, my soldier’s mask cracking just a fraction.

"I didn’t have a choice." My reply came softer than I intended, and that was a mistake. Hawk seized on it immediately.

"No choice? Or did you just find a cozy place with a bit less stone and a bit more …" Her words trailed off, her expression darkening. Her gaze flickered to the leather vambrace around my arm.

Vega pounced on Hawk’s unspoken insinuation. “Yeah, you look remarkably … well-fed. Well-rested.” Her eyes flicked between me and the door, as though expecting someone to burst in after me uninvited. "And those clothes …"

My team looked clean enough; clearly, they'd managed to bathe at some point, and their clothes weren't as ragged as you'd expect after two weeks, so they might have been washed. But they weren't in the borrowed warrior leathers I was wearing.

"Don’t," I snapped sharply, my voice ringing out in a way that silenced them all. The effect was momentary, but the words had done their job. I drew in a slow breath and composed myself before continuing. "This place isn't what we could have expected. Darrokar?—"

A collective groan interrupted me the moment I’d spoken his name. Hawk threw up her hands, and Vega’s smirk turned positively venomous. "Oh, here it is," she muttered. "She's dicknotized."

"I'm not dicknotized!" I said, louder than I should have. My voice momentarily startled even me, echoing faintly against the walls. My cheeks burned with a blush, and I wanted to bury my face in my hands.

Hawk’s jaw dropped slightly, her dark eyes narrowing with something a lot like realization—and betrayal. "Oh my God," she said flatly. "Are you really … How do you even with the claws?"

Heat bloomed in my chest. "Carefully. Guys, it's not what it sounds like. Darrokar is?—"

"Different?" Vega scoffed. Her cold, gray eyes sparkled with disbelief. "You’ve got to be kidding me, Terra."

"You don’t understand," I snapped, rounding on her sharply enough that even Vega seemed taken aback. "I've been learning all I can about this place. It's not like we have any other place to go. We need to figure out how to make a life here."

"So are we all shacking up with scary aliens?" Kira muttered from her seat near the window. Unlike the others, her tone lacked venom, but her quiet detachment was worse.

I turned to her sharply, hoping for an opening to better understand her uncharacteristic demeanor, but the rest of the team wasn’t about to let the conversation die.

"Men don't just help powerless women for free, Captain. I don't think it matters what planet you're on," Hawk said evenly, pointedly using the title again with all the weight of an accusation.

I couldn’t respond—not the way they wanted me to. The truth was too tangled, too raw to share without unraveling it completely. "We’re alive," I said flatly. "That’s what matters."

The tension in the room thickened with every second of silence that followed. They didn’t trust me—not completely. I couldn’t blame them, but that didn’t mean I had the luxury of indulging their doubts. We didn’t have time for division.

"We need a plan," Vega said suddenly, breaking the stalemate with her usual pragmatism. She straightened, stepping forward just enough to draw attention back to her. "This situation, whatever arrangement you think you’ve made—it’s a temporary solution at best. We need to take control of our circumstances before we lose any chance."

Hawk nodded in agreement, but Kira remained silent. Her focus seemed fixed on some invisible point beyond the barred window, her body language distant and closed. I filed it away for later—something was definitely off.

"And what do you propose we do?" I asked, crossing my arms and tilting my head expectantly.

Vega’s lips curved upward into a faint smile, but there was no humor in it. "We need to be in a less secure location, for one."

"I think I can get you moved to better quarters." No matter what Vega was planning, it was on my list. My team shouldn't be prisoners.

"That's step one," Vega continued. "Then I slip out and find the others. It's all well and good that you've found a boyfriend, but have you forgotten the civilians we're supposed to be protecting? "

"I have not," I said, my tone sharp. "But we need to stop acting hostile. If you let me tell Darrokar?—"

"Absolutely not!"

"No way."

"Are you crazy?"

It was a unanimous no.

"You’re assuming we’re not already considered threats," Vega countered, holding my gaze without flinching. "Do you really think they'll let us move freely?" She tilted her head towards the door where my escort was waiting outside.

Kira finally spoke, her voice cutting through Vega’s as if on cue. "And if the others are dead?"

The bluntness of her words struck the room like a blade, silencing everyone. Even Vega faltered, her mouth closing into a thin line.

"They’re not dead," I said firmly, though the knot in my chest tightened at the thought. "We can’t think like that. If there’s even a chance?—"

"If they’re gone, Terra. What then?" Kira pressed. She still wasn’t looking at me directly, but her words carried an edge I wasn’t used to hearing from her.

"Then we mourn but keep going," I said forcefully. "And we need to remain together to do that."

“Are we together?” Hawk asked quietly but pointedly. Her words weren’t loud, yet they landed with the weight of an avalanche. The unspoken question hung in the air: Are you with us, or are you with him ?

I drew a breath, my gaze sweeping over each of them before returning to Kira’s still-guarded expression. I didn’t have the answer they wanted—but maybe I could give them something else.

"I am still with you," I said finally, my voice quiet but firm. "And I swear, I will find a way to get us out of this hell. But if we screw this up and Darrokar?—"

"What are his intentions exactly?" Hawk pressed, her tone skeptical. "As far as I can tell, all we’ve earned for two weeks of patience is this room and a lot of unanswered questions."

The truth burned at the back of my throat, but I couldn’t give them that yet. Instead, I kept my voice calm, even. "Give me time."

Vega shook her head but didn’t argue further. She turned toward the table, busying herself with organizing supplies. Hawk followed Vega’s lead, rummaging through the makeshift inventory with ill-concealed frustration.

Only Kira lingered near the narrow window, her distant gaze unreadable.

As my team settled reluctantly into tense silence, I stepped closer to her, my expression softening just enough to pass as nonchalant. "Kira," I said softly. "What’s going on?"

She hesitated before answering, her shoulders stiffening slightly. "Nothing. Just thinking."

"Anything I should know?"

Her eyes flicked toward me briefly, but she didn’t hold my gaze. "No," she replied quickly—too quickly.

I studied her for a moment longer, debating whether to push harder. But something in her posture warned me against it. Kira wasn’t ready to talk, and forcing the issue would only make it worse.

"Alright," I said finally, stepping back and allowing her the space she clearly wanted. But as I turned away, her quiet urgency echoed in my mind, along with Vega’s cold practicality and Hawk’s frustrated skepticism.

They were my team, my people—and I’d never felt more separate from them.

I had walked into this room expecting to reunite with familiar camaraderie, with strength forged in shared struggle. But all I’d found were fault lines, cracks that spiderwebbed deeper than any one conversation could bridge.

I had to fix this.

Somehow.