The light was too bright, the blues and greens too vivid, but the shock of cool air against her cheek was pure heaven.

Holding up her palm to ward off the light, Ava stepped from the transport hold, Valdus by her side. Dragath25’s two suns high in the sky.

She lifted her chin. Inhaled deep. Fresh air. Even through the film of red dust and blood, it brushed her skin. Surrounded her. Cleansed her.

After so much humidity, the dryness burned her nostrils, but it was worth it, her lungs expanding so wide she grew dizzy. Funny to think she’d once thought the surface of Dragath25 bleak and harsh. Now, its abundance humbled her. The tiny bits of scrub grass tucked into the red rocks, the splash of green on the far horizon, the sparkle of a far-off lake—beauty in a harsh land. All of it alive and thriving. Just like them.

“We made it.” Full of satisfaction, Valdus’s deep voice rolled over her.

Around her, like sleepwalkers waking from a dream, the rest of the surviving crew stumbled from the hold, their numbers still plentiful. Griffin dropped to his knees. Darvish and Barrett leaned against each other, arms wrapped tight. Bain lifted his face to the sky and cried like a baby.

Her heart turned over in her chest.

So many lost. But those who’d made it out alive would never forget.

Valdus’s hand found hers. His hold too tight.

She squeezed back just as hard.

We made it.

“What do you want to do next?” He turned toward her, his fingers still laced with hers.

No order. No command. Just a simple question. One partner to another. One equal to the next.

Her gaze caught on the distant horizon. Bella had once told her an actual forest was somewhere out there. “I want—”

“Commander, Doc, you have to see this.” Ryker’s tense shout came from above.

Turning around, she spotted the man perched on a high, rocky cliff—the very one she’d been coming down when she and Pratt had been taken. Even with a makeshift bandage wrapped around his stomach, Ryker’s stance was wide, upright, his gaze locked on whatever lay on the other side.

Her heart skipped. Could it be her friends?

Valdus’s hold checked her in place, his gaze soft. “He never would have shouted if there were people nearby.”

Her excitement fizzled. “Right.”

He squeezed her hand once more. “But whatever’s over there, we’re ready for it. Together.”

Still protecting her. Supporting her.

Her heart expanded so big inside her chest she could barely breathe.

“You coming or what?” Ryker’s exasperation was evident.

Apparently, some things were the same above ground as below.

“There was a definite battle.” Ryker didn’t even wait until they reached the cliff edge before he started talking. “Hard to believe anyone survived.”

She held back a sob. The ground on the other side was covered in boot prints and dark stains, the surrounding rocks splattered with the ash of laser strikes. Here and there a few scattered bones and tattered clothes dotted an otherwise empty landscape, but the scale of the violence was unmistakable.

Something horrible had happened here.

“But if there was a fight,” she asked at last, her throat tight, “where are the bodies?”

Ryker kept his gaze on the scene below. “Dragath25 cleans up after itself.”

Images of sharp teeth and gnawed bodies hit before she could stop it. She stifled a shudder. Shoved the idea away. “No, Bella and Caine were too strong. Too resourceful. They would have found a way to survive.”

“You may be right.” Surprising her, Valdus’s finger traced a rutted trail etched deep into the ground. “See those? Those are scorch marks. The kind made by a large transport shuttle. I recognize the track pattern.” Squinting, he followed the line. “You can see there where they tried to land, skated along, and crashed into the rocks.” His finger shifted, sketched a new pattern. “Over there, you can see where they lifted off.”

Her heart beat once more with hope. “Before I was taken, we were waiting for a rescue shuttle. Maybe it came and got them?” Maybe Bella and the others were safe, after all.

He turned and pulled her close, pressing his lips to her temple, breathing her in. “If you want, you can follow them.”

Surprised, she looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

Turning her, he gestured toward the nose of a small craft, half buried beneath the shadow of the mountains. “There. The shuttle that Hollisworth and his men flew in on.” His beautiful gaze—even bluer and more vivid above ground—bored into her. “You can go anywhere. “

Her breath caught and held. “And you?”

“I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

“What if all I want is to be with you?”

He swallowed hard, his voice a low rasp of need. “Then I’ll never leave your side.”

Her lungs released the breath she’d been holding. “That is all I could ever want.”

“That’s touching and all, but it still doesn’t answer the question of where we go from here.” Exasperation laced Ryker’s voice as he paced back and forth in front of them.

“I have no interest in returning to New Earth.” She hoped with all her heart Bella and the others had made it back, but that part of her life was over. Hollisworth might be dead, but the Council and all its corruption remained. Plus, there was the pesky fact that she would still be expected to fulfill her breeder role and the man she loved was a known Resistance fighter who would be executed if caught.

Whatever their new path, it did not include traveling old orbits.

“I say we explore. Get off this damn planet.” Ryker kicked at the rocky red dirt, that familiar wild, trapped look back in his eyes.

He might have made it to the surface, but he wasn’t yet free.

Her heart went out to him. She wondered if he ever would be.

“We have the shuttle,” he continued. “There’s got to be a better planet than this. I say we see what the hell else is out there.”

Her gaze scanned the men below. Barret would likely never survive such a treacherous journey. Darvish would want to remain with him. And there were numerous teammates now nursing injuries.

“You should go.” She didn’t want Ryker to. Not really. But she understood better than anyone that you couldn’t stop running until you were ready. “Once you’re healed, you and anyone else who wants to should go, but I…” She paused. Looked at Valdus for confirmation. “If you’re okay with it, I’d like to stay here.” She cleared her throat. “I’m done running.”

Her lover’s eyes warmed with that mix of awe and pride that sparked her need even without the heat. “Then we stay.”

“Build something together.” She knew him well. “A community we can be proud of.”

“It won’t be an easy place to live, but that never stopped us before.” The excitement in his voice was easy to hear.

His dream. What he’d fought for all along. He’d never be able to make it a reality on New Earth, but here he could try. And she’d be right by his side while he did.

“And we destroy the mine,” she added. “With it out of commission and Hollisworth dead, we’ll strike a serious blow at the Council’s twisted efforts to develop off-world technology that can be used to control huge segments of the population.”

“There’ll only be someone else,” warned Ryker.

“I know.” She was under no illusions. She knew there was likely already another power-hungry Councilman lining up to take Hollisworth’s place. She also knew there were numerous other prison planets that could be mined for their resources and used toward the Council’s twisted pursuit of domination. But less-than-good odds were nothing new and giving up wasn’t her team’s way. “We can still have an impact. We can still take a stand.”

“Together.” The pride in Valdus’s eyes as he looked at her made her feel ten feet tall. “Before we destroy it though, we’ll mine what you need.” His smile was pure, raw brilliance. “I’ll stand by you every step of the way. The choice is—and always should have been—yours to make.”

Just hearing those words made her answer all the more certain. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

She shrugged. “I definitely want to extract the ore. I’m going to work on the serum, along with other medicines that might protect us, but I’m not going to risk neutralizing the heat technology unless I’m very sure.” She seized his hand, traced her fingers along the strong tendons and veins. “I’ve too much to live for now.” She pressed a kiss to each knuckle. “One man in particular. And he’s worth everything to me.”

A few others had joined them by now. Bain and Griffin. Darvish and Barrett.

As they learned what was being discussed, their voices joined the ruckus. Until they were drowning one another out to be heard. Some insisting it was best to stay. Others arguing it was best to go.

“Enough.” Valdus’s voice cut through the disorder.

Immediate silence descended. Over twenty spines snapping straight to attention. They might be above ground now, but the same rules applied as before. She suspected it was simply too ingrained within them to imagine any other way.

“We are a team. No matter what happens next, we will always be exactly that. But that doesn’t mean we have to remain together forever. Ava and I are staying.” He grabbed her hand, threaded his fingers with his. “That’s been decided.”

“What else has been decided?” Griffin’s green eyes glimmered in the bright suns’ rays.

“Ryker prefers to take the working shuttle and explore,” answered Valdus. “So, here’s what I propose. Those who want to remain will be part of the team that establishes our home base. Ryker and whoever else is interested will use the smaller aircraft and go on scouting missions to nearby planets. If you find one that’s preferable, you’ll return and we can discuss potential relocation. Once those recon missions are done, those who want to return to New Earth can take the shuttle and go back.” His gaze found Bain. “I know for some that will be the only choice.”

All around the circle, the men were nodding, excitement making them stand taller, their eyes shine brighter.

“No matter which route you choose,” he continued, “know you will always have a home here.” His hand squeezed hers. “Our bond was forged in the sweat and blood of this planet’s core and it’s bled into our veins, reshaped our DNA, marked us as family.”

A roar of cheers erupted.

Then, the men got busy, separating into groups, their hope thick in the air.

After so long, they finally had the chance for a future untainted by bleak red rock and certain death. Now, they had possibilities. The opportunity to remake their destinies. To do more than simply survive.

The beauty of it brought a sheen to her eyes.

One that her attentive man must have instantly noticed.

Before she could even blink it away, he was turning her to him, his expression intent. “If you’ve changed your mind, just tell me. If you want to go after your friends? Return to New Earth? I’ll make it happen.”

She covered his hand with hers. “I don’t.” She hoped with every part of her soul that Bella and Caine had made it safely off the planet, but her path was a different one.

“You’ve given me the right to choose, and I choose life, I choose love, I choose you.” She reached for his hand, cradled it in her own. “So much was taken from both of us over the years, but I’ve found so much more than I ever imagined thanks to you. I’ve found myself. Found courage. Found love.”

With a growl, he pulled her close. “I found my home and my guiding star. I will love you forever.”

“That’s all I ask.”

Love was its own freedom and its own risk. One she was gladly willing to take.

Especially alongside the extraordinary man who’d shown her it was possible to find light even in the darkest of places.

Want to read Ryker’s story? Read on for Book Three in the Condemned Series….

Something didn’t smell right.

Eyes closed, grumbling to himself, Ryker wrinkled his nose and tried to identify what was off.

Metal, rot, dust, male stink, and death—all familiar odors after living with the same smelly teammates for two years now. But…he sniffed again…there it was. That overlay of the sweet rhozeberry scent—his favorite, now-impossible-to-find fruit—so subtle and faint it washed through his lungs like a lapping wave, tantalizing, cleansing, beckoning.

Lips tilted upward, cock twitching, he followed his nose, pushing to his elbow—and got slammed.

Vicious pain wrapped around the base of his skull and squeezed his balls in a viselike grip.

He sucked in a sharp breath. Fought the urge to vomit. What in the hell?

Groaning, his eyes popped open.

Total inky blackness.

Not even the flickering hazy lights that had lit the caves of the mines—or the too bright suns of the surface.

Where the fuck was he?

The surface beneath his palms was smooth and even. Definitely not natural rock. And the place was drafty—or maybe that was because someone had taken his clothes, weapons, and his boots and left him bare-assed as a mother fucking newborn.

Not good at all.

He racked his brain for what he did remember. Memories clicked into place.

He and Griffin had been running through launch prechecks before takeoff when there’d been a slight sound at his back.

Unstrapping his harness, he’d started to turn—and woken up here.

In the goddamn dark. Without Griffin. Or the shuttle.

He threw back his head. Roared.

And sent something light and quick skittering across the hard floor.

“Who’s there?” Pushing past another stab of pain, he shifted to a crouch, his hands up and ready, ignoring the throb from his still-healing stomach. Whatever that was had been way too light to be his missing teammate.

No response.

“I know you’re out there.”

Silence. The sharp, staccato panting his only answer.

Human. Singular. And afraid.

The bitter scent of fear filled the space.

He softened his tone. “I didn’t mean to scare you before. Just letting off a little steam.” He kept his hands up and ready. Back in the mines, some of the most fearful had also been the most feral. With nothing left to lose, those poor bastards had been willing to do whatever it took to survive.

Until he learned otherwise, he’d assume the same applied here. Whoever this guy was, he’d fuck ’em up the nanosegment he attacked. Or sooner—if he figured out where the sound originated.

“After all, it’s not every rotation one ends up in these kind of luxury accommodations.” He kept his tone conversational, his words relaxed and light. “Wherever the hell here is. You have any idea?”

Voice was easier to get a fix on than muffled breaths.

No answer.

Still in his crouch, he half slid, half waddled backwards, heel-to-toe the way he’d been taught to muffle his movements, counting steps in his mind while the rest of him focused on ragged pants, now up to three for every one of his slow breaths.

At step eight, his back brushed up against something hard.

Palm up and out, he explored. Smooth. Seamless. Exact same feel as the floor.

It seemed like he was in some kind of man-made hold.

“As long as you don’t come after me, I won’t come after you,” he lied, sliding up the wall.

Standing, the unrelenting black made him dizzy. Disoriented. He fought the urge to shrink to a crouch once again and, instead, shut his eyes, steadying his breathing and calling on his other senses.

“You been in here long?” No rocking or rushing beneath his feet. No pull from gravity, either. Made him fairly certain whatever he was in wasn’t moving. So, scratch transport hold from his list of options. Only infinite more possibilities to go.

No wind or air movement against his skin. No rumbling pipes or rushing water, either. No voices outside. So, the space was well contained and not particularly well equipped.

All and all, it had the empty, bare, stale-air feel of a fucking closet—or a cell.

Though there was that faint, tantalizing rhozeberry scent every once in a while, hard to catch over the stale scents of fear and rot. Made him hopeful though that there might be a pile of food somewhere in this black-hole darkness. Not that he could eat it. Stuff was likely drugged. But he’d damn sure love to breathe it in and remember—

Muffling a curse, he cut away from the past and forced himself to focus on the here and now, sliding father along the wall, searching for anything he could use to defend himself—or give him a clue as to where he was.

“You have any idea what this place is? Or how long either of us has been here? And when we’ll be dining? I’ve got a schedule to keep.” At this point, he didn’t really expect an answer, but he wanted to give the guy a sense of predictability. Make his cellmate think he could relax.

“Would definitely be nice if there was a light switch in this place.” Normally, he loved to hear himself talk, but some kind of response—even a grunt—would have been welcome right about now.

The sound of rustling to his right had his ears twitching. His target was on the move. “Or maybe some water.” He was thirsty as hell. “Though then I’d have to piss. And unless you can direct me to the toilet…”

He slid along faster, fists raised, thigh muscles tensed to launch.

He wished he could say this pursuit at least had his heart pumping. But all he felt was the same grim determination he’d been pretending not to feel since they’d stumbled to the surface a few rotations ago.

So many of his teammates had shut down in the mines. Valdus had gone stone cold. Quillion had barely spoken, turning into some kind of walking mute. In between his too-bright grinning bouts, Griffin only seemed to want to fight.

But not him. Not Ryker, the asshole.

Yes, he’d done his best to hide it. But, unlike his teammates, he’d relished every fucking brutal heartbeat. Embraced the grit and dust under his fingertips and found his first real clarity in a long while through the sharp scent of fear, adrenaline, and survival that had lay thick and heavy in his nostrils and lungs. The comradery. The connection. The meaning. All raw, vivid, and in bold technicolor.

Because every moment of every rotation, those men had been what stood between him and death, and vice versa. And every moment down there had been one more heartbeat he hadn’t had to remember all he’d lost back on New Earth.

Until they made it to the surface.

Then, he’d been forced to remember it all. Feel it all.

Nothing was vivid anymore. Nothing was bright or sharp. Nothing was close to the zing he’d felt when he and his boys had been shoulder to shoulder in the mines with only themselves and their bravado to rely on.

All there was back on the surface was blackness and more and more pain. Kind of like wherever he’d ended up now.

“You ever ask yourself what it’s all for anyway?” He slunk farther along the wall. “If we humans shouldn’t have all gone the way of the trees on New Earth and just…vamoosed?”

The air nearby stirred against his bare chest.

Target was again on the move—and close.

He moved faster. “Not much of a talker, are you? Reminds me of a buddy of mine.” The image of Griffin flickered through his mind and he offered up a silent wish that his cellmate wasn’t quite as big. Not that he couldn’t bring his massive crewmate down if he had to—he’d been top of his class in hand-to-hand—but it wouldn’t happen without some serious injury. “You got any buddies here with you right now?”

No answer, but the shuffling was so close now he could hear as it bounced off the wall nearby. And the acrid stench of fear was stronger, too.

Holding his breath, careful not to make a sound, he focused on the last point of sound and launched.

Only to slam into hard floor—empty-handed.

His target was fast.

Jumping to his feet, he swiveled toward the fleeing sound of shuffling feet. Thighs tensed to pounce once more, a roar of battle surging deep in his throat.

This too-quiet bastard was going down.

“Stay back.” The sudden, surprising words from his cellmate echoed through the hold. “Try to grab me again and I’ll stab you through the throat and let you bleed out all over the cell floor.”

Ryker froze. Everything coalescing into crystal-sharp focus. His adrenaline spiking, his heart, sluggish for so long, slamming once more against his ribs, every nerve ending rioting awake as the source of the rhozeberries and the fear became apparent.

His cellmate was bloodthirsty. Confident. And definitely, unquestionably, female.

Want to read more? TORMENTED, Book Three in the Condemned Series, is coming. To sign up to be notified of its release go to https://www.alisonaimes.com/ws