Chapter 3

Xan stared up at the ceiling of the med bay, the excruciating pain of his previous existence finally ebbing away after the doctor had administered medication. They had put him in a decontamination chamber. At least they had given him pain meds before placing him there. It was a rapid decontamination, but it still took time. He drifted in and out of consciousness.

His muscles relaxed, and his jaw unclenched as the reality and safety of his situation settled over him. Even if he wasn’t 100 percent sure it was real, Xan was going to take this time free of pain to regain his strength.

Is this all just a hallucination? Am I dead?

It was hard to tell what was illusion and what was real at this point. One particularly horrible incident where his cell door was left open in Ganthar’s hellhole had ended in unimaginable agony. It had been during his early days there. Xan had made a break for it, tried to find his way to the shuttle bay, hoping for a route to escape.

His hands had been bound, and he’d been deprived of sunlight for weeks at that point, so Xan had felt as though his legs were made of lead as he dragged himself through his corridor. Turning the corner to the shuttle bay, a flare of hope had shot through his heart as the door opened. That was when he was confronted by several of Ganthar’s men. It had been a trap.

They’d beaten him to the point of unconsciousness, but not before Xan managed to incapacitate five of them. It was simply not a fair fight, and he’d lost badly. They had repaired him just enough to keep him alive but gave him nothing to relieve his pain.

“We thought perhaps you could have been of some use to us given who you are, but it turns out there is no one who wants you,” Ganthar had said, forked tongue flicking, as Xan was dragged back to his cell. He couldn’t understand what Ganthar meant. Xan knew his family was dead, of course—no one would pay his ransom—but he wondered why Ganthar had thought that in the first place.

Now, sitting in this decon unit, Xan felt as though his life had again changed in a few moments. He hoped this time it would be a change for the good, unlike the horrible things he’d just experienced. Imagining his life before, a life of privilege, luxury, and safety, he hadn’t realized how quickly it all could be taken from him.

The Bija excursion with his little brother, Ragon, was intended to be a time for them to bond. His mother had been against it, especially without imperial guards, but he had reassured her that the guards would be monitoring the space around the small moon to ensure there were no issues. They had emergency beacons in case they ran into any trouble. The plant and wildlife were nonthreatening; it was a chance for them to become closer.

Xan’s younger brother had always been jealous, but Xan knew he would need his brother’s support in the years leading up to his coronation. Needing someone he could trust implicitly, Xan sought to show Ragon how things could be if they worked together. They hunted small game and cooked over an open fire. They even slept under the stars. Ragon had grumbled about it the whole time. He’d always preferred to live in luxury, but Xan thought that being away from all the distractions of imperial life and the palace would help bring them together.

Xan knew their mother favored him. Many said he was a younger version of his father, whom his mother had loved with all her heart. Once their father died, she showered even more attention on Xan. He knew the extra attention, added to the fact that Ragon was second in line, often bothered his brother. Xan wanted him to know that even though he wouldn’t be king, it didn’t mean Ragon wasn’t significant to how their sector was run.

“Brother, why do you enjoy playing hunter-gatherer out here in this place? We could have headed to the nearest space station and had a great time with some amenable women.”

“One of these days your thirst for debauchery will come back to bite you. There are certain things that I can’t do and can’t be seen doing. You know that.”

“Oh, yes, I know. Must preserve the imperial image at all costs.” Ragon kicked a nearby rock and glanced off into the distance. “Since I’m invisible, it seems that it’s much easier for me to get away with having some fun.”

“You’re not invisible. You’re my brother. Ensure that Mother doesn’t find out about your indiscretions, or she’ll have your hide.” Xan grabbed the spit and rotated the game that was roasting over the fire.

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like had I been born first?” Ragon stared into the fire, grabbing a stick off the ground. Xan’s head snapped up at the question.

“Where did that come from?” Xan considered it for a moment. “I guess I’ve never thought about it before. Perhaps I would be the one running through the pleasure houses on every space station in the quadrant instead of you.” Xan gave Ragon a playful shoulder bump.

“Perhaps.” Ragon poked at the fire with the stick, knocking some of the embers out onto the ground, where they fizzled. “We’re still climbing tomorrow, aren’t we?” He questioned Xan as he began chopping the game off the giant skewer for them to eat.

“Yes, of course.”

“Great!”

“I’ve never known you to be so excited about climbing.” Xan chuckled and bit into his grilled game.

“Aren’t you always saying I need to be more adventurous when it comes to physical things like this?” Ragon challenged.

“I am. I certainly am. I’m glad to see you’re finally coming around, brother.”

One minute they were scaling the cliffs of Bija with the orange-and-green stone biting into their hands, and the next Xan’s line broke. As he fell, the last thing he heard was his brother screaming out for him. When he awoke, he was confronted with the bloodied clothing his brother had been wearing. He was without his weapons, and a large group of Kirill quickly took him hostage. They cut off his imperial brand and placed him in chains.

Xan jolted awake. He must have passed out during the decon.

“Calm down. It’s okay.” The doctor and nurse attempted to calm Xan. Looking down at himself, he saw that they had him cleaned up. The pair were inspecting his extensive injuries and working to repair some of the damage. It seemed that when they’d worked on one of his more extensive abdominal injuries, it had been enough to bring him out of his exhausted sleep. They didn’t have a med pod, so more basic handheld devices were in use. Xan didn’t mind; at this point, he would have been satisfied with a warm bowl of soup and a rest after what he’d endured.

He still couldn’t believe he was free. The tears that refused to stop streaming from his eyes, no matter how much it shamed his warrior’s heart, were collecting in his ears. His face heated at the thought of anyone seeing him so vulnerable, especially Sloan, his woman. That’s how he thought of her at that moment. She had orchestrated his release and fought for him. He owed her a debt of life that he could never repay, but he would spend his entire life trying.

He had scarcely believed it when she’d handed him over to the Colossus that he thought was named Dev and told him she would handle Ganthar’s men. Xan wished he had possessed the strength to protect her. He would have gladly died for her as she attempted to give him the gift of freedom. It would have been an honorable death.

But Xan had barely been able to hold up his head. He’d watched her from the shuttle cargo bay while strapped into his seat. She was fierce and brave. Sloan reminded him of his sister, and at that thought a pang of sadness hit him, reminding him of the family he’d lost. He’d been shown proof of their deaths and knew that, had they survived, they would have stopped at nothing to recover him.

Xan’s mind returned to the present and his dramatically changing circumstances. Once the medics worked on him, providing him with the solar energy he required to restore his health. The slightest bit of strength was returning as he flexed the muscles in his hands and arms. The solar scales that ran the length of his spine were infused with an energy he hadn’t felt in cycles. His eyes were heavy as the surge of energy that had shot through him during their rush to freedom finally ebbed away. The last thought he had before closing his eyes was of Sloan’s face smiling down over his own.

She was his rescuer. She was his liberator. She was his.