Chapter 14

PAIN LANCED through Jo’Nay’s body, asearing agony that threatened to consume him. He gritted his teeth, suppressing any outward sign of pain, his Vettian warrior training allowing him to withstand torment far beyond the capabilities ofmost.

The Marauders, their faces hidden behind grotesque masks, their eyes gleaming with sadistic glee, were relentless in their pursuit of information. They wanted to know the location of his unit, the secret of his newfound longevity, and the key to unlocking the genetic modifications that had made him a legend among his people.

He had endured hours of interrogation, their methods crude, their techniques barbaric. They had used whips, electrical prods, and sensory deprivation, but he had resisted, his Vettian resilience pushing him beyond the limits of all endurance. Periodically, they would heal him so that they could torture him all themore.

Despite that, he would not betray his comrades, would not divulge the secrets that could jeopardize their safety, their future. He would protect his unit, even at the cost of his own life. Even more important, he would keep the secret of the apples well-hidden.

Skarrp, his patience wearing thin, slammed his fist against the wall, the impact reverberating through the cell. “You think you have a choice, Vettian? You think pain is the only weapon in my arsenal?” He snapped his fingers, and two of his men, their movements practiced and brutal, dragged Winn and the other captive women into the chamber.

Winn’s eyes widened in terror as she saw Jo’Nay’s battered form, the blood staining his white hair, the pain etched on his face. She struggled against her captors, her voice a desperate cry. “Jo’Nay! What do they want? Why are they beating you?”

He struggled to appear unaffected, but she could see his wounds, had witnessed the brutality of the Marauders firsthand, their callous disregard for life, their willingness to inflict pain for their amusement. He suspected what they’d done to him ignited a primal fear within her, afear for his safety, afear for their future, afear that threatened to shatter the fragile hope she had clungto.

Worse, Skarrp reveled in Winn’s terror, her vulnerability a weapon he intended to wield against Jo’Nay in order to get what he wanted. Her fear, her anguish, her desperate cries fueled his sadistic pleasure, adding a layer of cruelty to his interrogation.

“Your pet seems concerned for your well-being, Vettian,” Skarrp said, his voice dripping with menace. “Perhaps a demonstration is in order.”

He gestured toward one of his men, who raised a whip, the leather thongs glinting in the dim light. He knew the Vettian warriors were fiercely protective of those they held in their care. He intended to exploit that bond, to use Winn’s fear as leverage, to break Jo’Nay’s resistance. He would make Jo’Nay watch as he inflicted pain on his mate, forcing him to choose between his loyalty to his unit and his love for the human female. He would make him pay for his defiance.

Jo’Nay, his heart a knot of ice and fire, watched as the Marauder approached Winn, the whip held aloft, asilent threat that hung in the air, heavy and ominous.

Time seemed to slow, each breath a rasping struggle, each heartbeat a hammer blow against his ribs. He had endured unimaginable pain, but the thought of Winn suffering at the hands of these barbarians, these monsters, unleashed a fury within him, aprimal rage that eclipsed his own torment.

Skarrp barked out a harsh laugh, the sound echoing through the chamber. “Time to answer my questions, Vettian, or she will experience what you have.”

Jo’Nay stared at Skarrp, his eyes narrowed, his voice cold and hard. “You’re a liar, Skarrp. You wouldn’t risk damaging your precious merchandise. You need them healthy and untouched to maximize your profits. You’re bluffing, and we both know it.”

He had seen the greed in Skarrp’s eyes, the avarice that drove him, the desire for wealth and power that consumed him. He knew the Marauders would never jeopardize their profits by harming their captives. They were too valuable, their bodies too precious, their futures too lucrative to risk. Skarrp’s threats were empty, adesperate attempt to break his will, to force him to betray his comrades.

His words, acalculated gamble, struck a nerve. He saw a flicker of doubt in Skarrp’s eye, atightening of his jaw, asubtle shift in his posture that betrayed his uncertainty.

Then Skarrp’s face contorted with rage, his eye patch twitching. He had underestimated Jo’Nay, misjudged his resilience, his defiance. No doubt the Marauder had expected fear, submission, adesperate plea for mercy. Instead, Jo’Nay gave him defiance, acold, calculating gaze that saw through his facade, avoice that held no tremor of fear, only contempt and defiance. Even bound and beaten he was determined to remain a threat, achallenge to Skarrp’s authority and an obstacle to his ambitions.

“You’re right, Vettian,” Skarrp said, his voice deceptively calm, amask for the fury that simmered beneath the surface. “There are ways to persuade. To motivate. And they don’t leave lasting marks. Things that will not diminish their value, but will break their spirit. Things that will make them beg for death.”

He paused, letting the silence stretch, the unspoken threat hanging in the air, heavy and suffocating. He smiled, acruel, predatory expression, his voice a menacing whisper. He gestured toward the women, his gaze lingering on their bound forms, the fear etched on their faces. “Think carefully, Vettian. Your cooperation or their suffering. The choice is yours. There are drugs, serums, which can loosen the tongue, break the will, without damaging the merchandise.”

Jo’Nay felt a chill, acold dread that seeped into his bones. He had heard rumors of these drugs, whispers of their potency, their ability to shatter the mind, to erase memories, to leave the victim a hollow shell, apuppet dancing to the puppeteer’s strings. He had never witnessed their effects firsthand, but the fear in Winn’s eyes, the trembling of her lips, the silent plea for reassurance, confirmed his suspicions. These drugs were real, and Skarrp was not above usingthem.

Skarrp, sensing Jo’Nay’s unease, continued, his voice a silken thread, avenomous whisper. “Imagine, Vettian, watching your pet, her friends, transformed into compliant, eager slaves. Their minds shattered, their spirits broken, their bodies available to anyone, to everyone.” He leaned closer, his breath hot and foul against Jo’Nay’s ear. “Imagine knowing that their suffering, their degradation, is your fault. Your choice. Your gift, to them.”

Jo’Nay’s blood ran cold. He glanced at Winn. Her face, ashen and drawn, revealed stark terror, aterror reflected in her eyes, acknowledging Skarrp’s threats were not empty, that he was capable of unimaginable cruelty. He saw, too, the strength in her gaze, the determination to endure, to survive, to protect the fragile hope that flickered within her heart. Most of all, he saw her implicit trust inhim.

He had one possible chance to save them. “If you wish to destroy your valuable cargo, what do I care?” he managed to say with a careless grin. “If anything I would encourage you to do it since it will mean less profit for you, which would please me. But… How will your men like that? What will they do to their precious leader if he cost them a substantial amount of credits because he damaged the cargo?”

The reaction of the men around Skarrp gave weight to his words. They shouted in protest. With a bellow, Skarrp backhanded one of his crew and bounced another off the unforgiving metal walls of theship.

“I have ways, Vettian,” he snarled. He gestured to his men, snatching the whip and using it on them. “I’ll break your spirit, yet, scum. These women are all vulnerable. Their pain will be yours. You will listen to their screams and know your defiance comes at a steep price. Take the women back to their cells! And put the male across from the females! Perhaps the sight of their suffering will loosen his tongue!”

The Marauders laughter echoed through the chamber, though Jo’Nay caught a few muttered complaints. They dragged him and Winn and the other captive women back to their cells. As they threw Jo’Nay into one across from the women, he caught Winn’seye.

Her gaze held a mixture of fear and determination, asilent plea for strength, apromise to endure. He would not fail her. He would find a way out of this, away to protect her, away to ensure their survival. His love for her demanded it. His honor as a Vettian warrior compelled it. He would not break. He would not yield. He would prevail. He had to believethat.

He watched, helpless and enraged, as they shoved Winn into the cell opposite his, her body slumping against the cold, metal bars. The other women, their faces etched with terror and exhaustion, huddled together, seeking solace in their shared misery.

He settled onto the cold, hard floor, his back against the wall, his gaze fixed on Winn. He would watch over her, protect her, even if it was only with his eyes. He would be her strength, her hope, her anchor in this storm of despair.

He had failed her once, on Earth, when his Vettian instincts had overwhelmed his human disguise, exposing them both to danger, to the scrutiny of the authorities. He would not fail her again.

He would find a way out of this, away to free them all, away to strike back at Skarrp and his ilk, away to restore balance to this chaotic, unjust universe.

He had to believe that. For Winn. For himself. For the future they were fighting to create.

THE METALLIC clang of the cell door echoed through Jo’Nay’s weary soul, astark reminder of his captivity and powerlessness. His gaze followed Winn, his beloved mate, as she was dragged away with the other captive women, their cries of protest and fear echoing through the dimly lit corridor. Skarrp, his single, malevolent eye burning with avarice and cruelty, lingered a moment, his voice a venomous whisper that filled Jo’Nay withfury.

“Think about what I’m doing to her, Vettian,” Skarrp taunted, his voice dripping with malicious glee. “I’ll be back soon. And we’ll have another chat.”

The Marauder’s grating laughter echoed through the cell, ahaunting melody that amplified Jo’Nay’s sense of dread. He was alone, trapped, his strength drained by the Marauders’ relentless interrogation, his body a tapestry of pain. He had endured torture, unimaginable agony, but the sight of Winn, her face etched with terror, her eyes mirroring his own anguish, had shattered his resolve. He would do anything to protect her, even betray the secrets he had sworn to guard with his life. Fortunately, Skarrp, despite being a cunning, ruthless predator, didn’t fully understandthat.

He had seen they shared a bond, but not the raw, unbridled love that bound them together, aconnection that transcended species, that defied the very laws of the universe. He simply saw a master and his pet. And he intended to exploit that vulnerability, to twist it, to use Winn as a weapon against him. If he ever fully understood how deep their connection…

The weight of his failure pressed down on him, heavy and suffocating. He had sworn to protect her and shield her from harm. To be her haven in a storm. And yet, here he was, broken and trapped, aprisoner in a cage, while she was being dragged away, her fate unknown, her safety hanging precariously in the balance.

He yanked against the restraints locking his arms above his head, the metal biting into his flesh, aphysical manifestation of his powerlessness. Once upon a time, when he’d been stronger, he could have broken the cuffs. But not when they kept him so weak. Somehow, he needed to get to Winn. To protect her. But his body, wracked with pain, refused to cooperate.

Time stretched into an eternity, each agonizing second filled with the illusory echoes of her cries, the imagined horrors she was enduring. He closed his eyes and forced his mind to conjure different images of her, her laughter, her warmth, her unwavering spirit, clinging to those memories as a drowning male clings to a piece of driftwood.

He couldn’t let her down. He wouldn’t.

He had to find a way out of this. To defy the odds stacked against them. To escape and rescue her. That meant somehow reclaiming his strength.

He focused on his breathing, the rhythm a mantra, alifeline in the swirling chaos of his thoughts. He recalled the teachings of his youth. He’d experienced rigorous training along with brutal discipline. All of that had forged him into a weapon. An Intergalactic Warrior. He summoned those teachings, drawing on them as a parched man draws on a hidden spring.

He had faced death before, countless times. He had stared into the abyss, felt its icy breath on his skin, and emerged victorious. He would not be defeated now. Not when so much was at stake.

He had to believe. Hope. Fight.

He opened his eyes, the amethyst fire within them rekindled, the warrior spirit reawakened. He would endure. He would survive. He would prevail.

The scraping sound of metal on metal, the grinding of gears, jolted him from his contemplation. The cell door creaked open, revealing a group of Marauders, their faces contorted into grotesque masks of cruelty, their eyes gleaming with sadistic delight. They shoved Winn into his cell, her body a fragile silhouette against the harsh glare of the corridor lights.

“Skarrp wants you and your pet to have a little reunion before he sells her off,” one of the Marauders sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. He slammed the cell door shut, the metallic clang echoing through the chamber, then leaned against a nearby wall watching them avidly. “The buyers are coming soon. She’ll make an excellent sex slave, as I’m sure you’ve already discovered.”

Winn stumbled, her legs weak, her body trembling with exhaustion and fear. She collapsed onto the cold, hard floor, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her eyes, wide and filled with a pain that mirrored his own, met hisgaze.

“Jo’Nay,” she whispered, her voice a brokenplea.

“What did they do to you?” he demanded, straining against his manacles. He wanted to rush to her, to gather her in his arms and shield her from the horrors she had witnessed. But the restraints held him captive, atangible manifestation of his helplessness.

“Nothing,” she said, then dropped her voice so the watching Marauder couldn’t hear. “Nothing, Jo’Nay. They asked questions and I played stupid. They think I’m your pet.”

“Yes, Igot that impression, as well.”

“But you…” Tears slipped down her cheeks and her mouth trembled. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine,” he lied, the words a betrayal of the pain that ripped through him with every breath. He wouldn’t worry her. He would be strong. Forher.

“Don’t lie to me, Jo’Nay.” Her voice, though soft, held a steely edge, acommand that resonated with his warrior’s spirit. “I saw what they did to you. Your injuries aren’t invisible.”

He couldn’t hide from her. Not from those eyes that saw through his facade and pierced through the layers of pain and fatigue. “I’m hurt,” he admitted, the words a bitter confession. “But I’ll recover.”

She crawled toward him, her movements slow and deliberate. He could almost see the weariness of her spirit, but her determination remained unwavering. She reached him, her fingers brushing against his, trapped within the manacles, the warmth of her touch a beacon of hope in the darkness of their prison.

“We’ll get through this,” she whispered, her voice filled with a strength that belied her fragile form. “We’ll get through this together.”

He squeezed her hand, the connection a lifeline, as well as a testament to their shared will to survive.

He needed a distraction, away to escape the suffocating reality of their situation. “Tell me more about your past, Winn. Tell me something… anything… to distract me from this hell.”

She smiled, asoft, tender curve of her lips that illuminated the darkness of their prison, aflicker of light in the encroaching shadows. “What do you want to know?”

He thought back to the brief moments they had shared, the stories they had exchanged, the glimpses into each other’s lives, so different, yet somehow intertwined. “Tell me about the time you were told you were dying.”

He remembered the pain in her voice, the vulnerability she had exposed, the shadow that had briefly dimmed her spirit. He wanted to understand, to share in that pain, to offer comfort and reassure her that she was not alone.

A flicker of sadness crossed her face, but she rallied, her voice soft and steady. “It was a dark time, Jo’Nay. As dark as this, Isuppose. Atime of fear and loneliness. Ihad been diagnosed with cancer. Stage four. They told me I had only months to live. Maybe a little longer if I went through chemo.”

He felt a pang of sympathy, asurge of protectiveness. She had faced death and emerged stronger, her spirit unbroken. “You were alone?”

“I thought I was.” She whispered, her eyes shining with tears. “I had isolated myself, pushed away everyone who cared. Ididn’t want them to see me weak. To witness my death.”

He understood that fear, that primal instinct to shield oneself from pain. More, to protect friends and family from the burden of their loved one’s suffering. He suspected it was one of the reasons the Intergalactic Warriors were permanently separated from their families, so they only had their unit to turn to. To depend on. He had lived by that code for centuries, suppressing his emotions, distancing himself from others, sacrificing his own happiness to fulfill his duty, to protect the Nine Galaxies from those who sought to harmthem.

“But I was wrong,” Winn continued, her voice regaining strength, the flicker of defiance rekindled in her eyes. “I was so wrong. When I was at my darkest, acomplete stranger stepped forward. He found me beautiful, even when I was at my worst. He gave me love when I didn’t think love was possible any longer. He gave me life when all I thought I had left was death.”

A small smile played across Jo’Nay’s mouth. Gods above, how long had it been since he’d smiled? “And who was this stranger?”

“You, Jo’Nay. Of course, it was you.”