The days passed slowly for Macy. At first, she’d been content to linger in the housing area, using her time to search the accessible rooms. Apart from a few personal items scattered here and there — the most exciting of which was another music player — the rooms were identical. Even the clothes were the same — the sizes varied, but the cuts, colors, and fabrics were repeated in every chamber.

She’d attempted to enter the locked rooms, but every PIN she punched in was denied, and Jax hadn’t been wrong about the doors — they weren’t going to budge.

Jax forbid her from venturing out of the cabin area on her own, and Macy had been too wary to disobey. Though the elder kraken had declared Macy one of them, she couldn’t forget the animosity they’d directed at her. The best way to avoid trouble was to stay out of sight.

By the sixth day, their new home felt like a prison.

It was clearly worse for Jax. He stayed with her for hours every day, making love and idle conversation, but he’d grown increasingly withdrawn as time passed. He’d leave for long stretches, and Macy understood why.

Wanderer.

In the cave, they’d been free. Jax could take her out whenever either of them wanted to go, could show her places he’d discovered and see them anew through her eyes. The world had been open to them. All that had been taken away from him.

It had been her choice — against Jax’s wishes — to come here. She knew he was unhappy, resentful of his people, but how much blame did he place on her? If she’d listened to him, if she’d just agreed to return to the cave, how different would things be now?

Her recent illness hadn’t helped ease his nerves. For the last several days, she’d woken up feeling nauseous, and vomited two or three times in a morning. During those periods, she’d been unable to keep food down. Even the slightest whiff of fish sent her running to the toilet. By midday — which she only determined thanks to the clock in her room — her stomach would settle, and she’d feel fine.

She played it off as nothing; Jax was already out of sorts, and she didn’t want to add to his distress. But she couldn’t assuage her concern. At first, she thought it was the food they’d gathered in the jungle, but she’d consumed plenty of it in the cave without getting sick, and had eaten the same vegetation while she lived in The Watch.

Macy’s mind shifted to the building next. What if there was a problem with the air filtration system? Perhaps it didn’t affect the kraken because their respiration was so different, or simply because they were a hardier species. Humans hadn’t lived here for so long that there was no way to be sure it was still a safe environment — at least not before it was too late.

But the nausea only struck during the morning. If the air was somehow contaminated, wouldn’t she be sick all the time?

By the fifteenth day, she’d had enough. She wasn’t going to allow fear to prevent her from making the most of her situation.

Jax was gone again; his absences had grown longer and longer, and though he always returned by the evening, she missed him terribly during the day. It felt like they were drifting apart. A seed of doubt had taken root inside her, twisting its way through her being — one day, he might not return at all. Their lovemaking was as intense as ever, and her connection to him during those times was soul-deep, but when they finished, she felt the rift tear open again, threatening to swallow her up.

Today, she refused to sit and wait.

Macy strapped on the knife and gun Jax had given her for protection — each had a thigh holster, and though she was unused to wearing weapons, they were comfortable enough — and exited the cabin area. She wandered the corridors barefoot, peering into darkened rooms here and there. She neither saw nor heard any kraken.

When she spotted the sign indicating the pool, she stopped and stared down the hallway at the closed door. Jax had mentioned Arkon often spent time there. She didn’t know if Arkon accompanied Jax to wherever it was he was going every day, but it couldn’t hurt to check. She needed a friendly face.

She approached the door, pressed the button beside it, and entered when it slid open. The overwhelming stench of chemicals assaulted her immediately. Her stomach churned, and she doubled over.

The sound of the door closing behind her was whisper-soft.

“Are you all right, Macy?”

Macy jumped, lifting her eyes to Arkon. He was at the edge of the pool, frowning at her.

She took two deep, slow breaths through her mouth — not that it helped much with the smell — and nodded. “I’m fine. I just…need a moment. The smell in here is…”

“It can be overpowering when one is unused to it.” As though in response to his own words, his nostrils flared. “But I think you will grow used to it in time.”

Macy didn’t share his confidence.

She stepped farther into the room, moving her gaze along the lockers lining the far wall, over the dormant pieces of equipment and machinery scattered around the floor, and finally to the large, rectangular pool in the center. The water within was totally clear; if it weren’t for the light reflecting on its surface, she might not have known it was there at all.

As she neared the pool, she realized there was something on the bottom. She gasped when it came into full view. The floor was covered with countless small stones, arranged in swathes of color to create intricate, swirling patterns.

“Did you make this?” Macy asked, looking at Arkon. His arms were folded over his chest, fingertips drumming his bicep. “I’m sorry. If I’m…interrupting, or intruding, I can go.”

“Not at all. I’ve refined the patterns to my satisfaction — if only barely — but it’s still missing the centerpiece.” When he turned his head to her and smiled, the warmth of his expression eased the tension. “Jax was supposed to bring back a glowing stone, but he’s been understandably distracted for the last few weeks.”

She returned her attention to the design. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you for saying so.”

“I’d guess you don’t hear it often enough. Our people are alike in that way. Most of them like to look at art, but think making it is a waste of time when you could be focusing on something more practical instead.”

“Jax tells me, in his way, and though he claims not to understand it or have any capacity for it…his insights are often enlightening. As for it being a waste of time…I find that a short-sighted notion.”

“Aymee said something very similar to that.” Macy turned her head and studied Arkon. “I think she would love to know you.”

“The more I hear of this Aymee, the more I would love to know her.” He met Macy’s gaze, and his smile faltered. “How have you been, Macy? Though it could have gone worse, the gathering didn’t end how I’d hoped. What faith I had in my kind was, apparently, misplaced.”

“I…don’t blame them. They acted in fear, and even knowing as little as I do about the history between our peoples, I think the kraken were within their rights here.” She sat down on the edge of the pool, rolled up the legs of her pants, and dipped her feet in. It was colder than she’d expected. “I’m pretty sure humans would’ve reacted the same way if the roles were reversed.”

“There are always more extreme elements, it would seem, who make up for their lack of numbers through sheer aggression. Kronus and his group do not speak for all of us, no more than Dracchus, Jax, or Ector do.” Arkon eased himself down beside her; his position looked awkward, with his tentacles folded beneath him to hang into the water, but he made no indication of discomfort. “You didn’t answer my question, though. How are you?”

“I’m getting by, one day at a time.” She searched his eyes; their violet hue reminded her of the sky immediately after sunset. Compared to Jax and Dracchus, Arkon was lean, his face narrower and more refined, but he seemed no less powerful. “You’ve been Jax’s friend for a long time. How often does he normally remain here between his wanderings?”

Arkon lifted his hands, palms up, and shrugged. “Days, sometimes. This is the longest I recall him being here in many years… He’s out of sorts. Restless. Not his usual self…”

Macy’s eyes stung with tears, and she turned her face away. “I trapped him here.”

“You cannot blame yourself for this, Macy. I know without a doubt that Jax does not.”

“How can you be sure?” she asked, wiping the back of her fingers across her cheeks. “He is rarely here.”

“I have known Jax for most of my life. And the way he looks at you… He blames the others. Dracchus, yes, but the rest even more so. For him, being caged is worse than death, and they caged his mate. He won’t easily forgive any of them for it. Kronus is lucky you managed to calm Jax down.”

Macy managed a small smile. “How can I help him?”

The tips of Arkon’s tentacles flicked slowly from side to side, gently splashing. “Patience. Though I won’t deny that he could benefit from being slapped around a bit, too.”

She laughed; it felt surprisingly good. “He doesn’t like that very much. I’ve done it a couple times.”

He grinned. “Honestly, Macy… I think he’s so caught up in what has been lost, that he’s losing sight of what he has.”

“Thank you, Arkon.” She settled a hand over his. It was clear why Jax considered him his closest friend; of all the kraken — Jax included — Arkon had been the kindest, the most accepting.

“It is no trouble.” Though his movement was subtle, she noticed his gaze drop, and he furrowed his brow. He lifted his arm to get a closer look at her hand. “The similarities are as pronounced as the differences…”

“They are.” Macy allowed him his inspection and lowered her hand to her lap when he was done. She kicked her feet through the water. “Jax told me you often speak with the computer?”

“As dull as it typically is, yes, I do.”

“Are you able to access it?”

“In what capacity? There are vocal commands and interactions that seem to function normally, but I know I’ve uncovered only a fraction of the information it must hold. I believe access beyond that may require use of the screens, but the kraken never learned to read, and the Computer itself hasn’t been helpful in that regard.”

“I could teach you.”

Arkon’s face brightened; his smile returned, and his eyes sparkled. “I will hold you to your word on that, Macy.”

She’d smiled more in this short time with him than she had in the last week. “You have my word, Arkon.”

“Was there something specific you wanted from the computer?”

“I guess…everything. There must be a wealth of information here. Even…even what they did to your people. How they created you, and why.”

“What few answers we have for those questions are unsatisfactory and incomplete, at best.” He stared down at the little ripples on the surface of the pool. “If I bring you to a room with working screens, do you think you could find that information?”

“I’ll try my best.”

Arkon nodded and pushed himself up, water sloshing with the sudden movement of his tentacles. “Let’s go, then.”

“Really?” Macy pulled her feet out of the pool and rolled down her pant legs. “You can take me now?”

“I do not think either of us has anything more pressing to attend at the moment,” he said with a smirk.

Macy chuckled as she stood up. “I’m quite tired of staring at the walls.”

“Perhaps we’ll figure out how to paint them, at some point. One matter at a time, though.” Arkon moved toward the door; at its core, his dragging gait was similar to the way Jax moved on land, but Arkon was somehow more graceful.

She followed him out of the pool room. “Arkon?”

He slowed and twisted to look at her over his shoulder. “Hmm?”

Catching up to him, she glanced down at her hands. “I know we’ve only just met, but you are so easy to talk to you and…and I would like it if I could call you my friend.”

“Of course, Macy.” He dipped his head. “I have never had a female friend…it is not the way of our people. But I can now boast that my number of friends has doubled.”

Something inside her chest warmed. She missed Aymee, and Jax’s frequent absence had left her lonelier than she’d been since their first few days together. Arkon’s friendship was a balm for the wounds her heart had suffered.

“The others don’t deserve you, Arkon.”

Water still dripped from Jax as he entered the area Macy called the Cabins. He’d waited an eternity for the water to drain from the entry chamber and had considered trying to force the interior door more than once. Macy had been sick, as of late, and leaving her alone made him anxious.

He wished he didn’t have to.

The door to their den was open, as it usually was when they were awake and not otherwise engaged. He entered; Macy wasn’t on the bed, at the table, or in the shower. He called her name and returned to the hallway, calling again.

There was no answer, no sign of movement.

He hurried through the nearby corridors, shouting for her, checking every open room. His hearts pounded, their pace increasing with each empty chamber.

What if she had wandered off and fallen ill? What if another kraken had come, knowing Jax was gone, and taken her?

The surface of Jax’s skin prickled like it was on fire, but he was cold inside.

He left the cabin area, pulling himself through the tunnel with arms and tentacles, and reentered the main building. All was silent save for the gentle hum of the Facility itself. His calls echoed off the walls.

Along the way, he leaned into every room, both hoping and fearing that he would find her in one.

She was nowhere.

He found nothing to indicate the recent passage of other kraken, but he’d been out for a long while; any such trails might have dried up already.

“Macy!” he shouted as he reached the intersection of two main corridors.

“Was that Jax?” Macy’s voice was unmistakable, though it was distorted by distance.

He rushed toward it, finally stopping in the doorway of a large room full of screens and controls. Macy and Arkon both looked at Jax from their place at the central console.

“You’re back!” she exclaimed.

Relief rushed through him, a soothing tide washing over the beach. “You’re all right.” The receding tide left anger in its wake. “Why are you here? You shouldn’t wander far from our den; it is not safe.”

She frowned. “I needed to get out of there for a little while.”

“What if Kronus had come across you, alone in the hall? What if you had fallen ill in some room that is rarely visited, and I couldn’t find you?” His hearts hadn’t slowed, and the heat on his skin only intensified.

“I feel fine, Jax. I was with Arkon.”

Jax’s gaze flicked briefly to Arkon, whose expression was unreadable. “You will not leave the cabins again,” he growled, moving into the room.

“What?” For a moment, her eyes were wide, and her lips parted in shock. Then she straightened, her body going rigid. She glared at him. “I am not an object, Jax! You can’t keep me like I’m some trophy you pulled out of the ocean. I’d think you of all people would understand that!”

He clenched his jaw; her words struck to his core, twisted inside him like a blade. His voice nearly failed. “I need you safe.”

Jax was no better than the rest of them; he was pushing her into a smaller cage, even though he sought to free her from the one his people had created.

The anger on her face slowly faded. She held his gaze and sighed. “I know, Jax. I know. But I can’t stay in there all day, every day. I need—” her eyes drifted to Arkon, “—someone to talk to.”

“You can talk to me, Macy,” Jax said.

“You haven’t been here!”

He gritted his teeth and released a long breath through his nostrils. She was right. He’d been gone often, and for long periods of time; why wouldn’t she be restless, staring at the same walls every day?

Closing the remaining distance between them, he stopped in front of her and looked into the unfathomable depths of her eyes. “I am sorry.”

Macy placed her hand on his chest. He covered it with his own and leaned down, pressing his forehead to hers.

“Don’t pull away from me, Jax,” she said softly.

“I’m not trying to.” He closed his eyes and took in her scent, letting it wash over his senses and permeate him. It had changed subtly over the last few weeks, and, somehow, had become only more alluring to him.

She drew back and smiled. “And I was safe. I’ve been with Arkon since I left the cabins, and I have the weapons you gave me.”

Arkon nodded when Jax glanced at him. He trusted Arkon to risk his life in defense of Macy, but it was still hard to accept that he’d allowed her protection to fall to someone else.

“She is quite openly appreciative of my work,” Arkon said. “Perhaps you should have her teach you how to properly compliment me.”

The high, sweet sound of Macy’s laughter shattered Jax’s lingering worry; here, now, all was well, and Macy was safe and happy. Even if it was fleeting, it was precious enough not to be ignored or dismissed.

“What are the two of you doing in here anyway?” Jax asked. The room wasn’t often visited by kraken — not that many of them were.

“Macy knows how to read.” Arkon’s smile was broader than Jax had seen in a long while.

He looked from Arkon to Macy and back again questioningly. “What does that have to do with your being here?”

“She thinks she might be able to access new information on the Computer. About our kind, about this place…about everything.”

“Can you?” Jax returned his attention to Macy.

“I can try. You got here right after we did, so I haven’t done anything yet.”

Jax and Arkon moved to watch over Macy’s shoulder as she brought up a projected screen full of symbols. The images moved when her fingers touched them, sliding aside or vanishing altogether, only for new symbols to appear.

“Welcome,” said the Computer. Its voice, emanating only from the console, seemed smaller. “Please enter your authorization code to proceed.”

“A code? Hmm…” Macy tapped at the screen.

“Access denied.”

She touched several more symbols.

“Access denied.”

Macy stared down at the console, drumming her fingers atop it. She raised her hand to the projection, finger extended, and stopped, glancing at Jax. “What’s the code you use to get into this building?”

Jax leaned forward, and Macy stepped aside to allow him a closer look at the symbols. They were all meaningless to him, but a few were familiar — he realized suddenly they were same as those beside the entry door.

“This one first,” Arkon said, pointing to one. Macy pressed it.

Slowly, Jax and Arkon ran through the remaining symbols. They were arranged in a different order on the projection, and it was difficult to piece together a sequence that had long ago become second nature. His hand knew the keypad’s buttons by touch, remembered the distance between each, the order in which they needed to be pressed.

“Access granted,” the computer said, and the screen changed abruptly.

“I can’t believe that actually worked.” The screen cast a soft blue glow upon Macy’s smiling face as she read. “Halorium Project?”

“Halorium is a stone found on the ocean floor,” Arkon replied. “It emits blue light. Our ancestors were tasked with gathering halorium for the humans who dwelled here.”

“It does strange things to human machinery.” Jax frowned; the stuff was rare, but it was out there… Would it interfere with Macy’s suit like it did everything else?

Macy swiped her finger across the screen, and an image appeared. It was a shard of halorium, spinning in place and pulsing light, so real that Jax wondered if he could reach out and touch it.

“Computer, what is the Halorium Project?” Macy asked.

“The Halorium Project is a joint venture between Tureon Industries and the Interstellar Defense Coalition with the goal of harvesting a rare mineral on Halora. It was founded when scouting ships discovered halorium deposits after first landing on Halora, in 2455 SGY.”

“What is SGY?”

“Standard Galactic Year. A system put in place so colonies across the galaxy could operate on a unifying measure of the passage of time, regardless of local planetary orbits and rotations.”

“So how long ago was 2455?”

“Three hundred and seventy-seven Halorian years ago.”

“What did they want with halorium?”

“Halorium emits a form of radiation that has not been found anywhere else in the known galaxy. This radiation has proven harmless to living creatures during tests conducted in this laboratory. Because of its unique properties, halorium can be used as a powerful and extremely long-lasting source of energy. This facility is powered entirely by halorium.”

Macy lifted her hand and touched the tip of the shard; its movement altered, and it tumbled slowly, end-over-end. “Jax said it does strange things to human machinery.”

“Specifically, the energy fields emitted by halorium interfere with electronics. It must be kept in specially shielded containers to protect such devices from its effects. The halorium reactors of this facility are shielded at three times the recommended standard to protect the facility’s operations.”

“Why did the kraken mine it?”

“I do not understand your question,” the computer said.

Macy looked at Jax and Arkon.

“Who are the kraken?” she asked.

“The kraken was a mythological sea creature from ancient Earth legends,” the computer replied. A new picture flashed up, this time flat. It was black and white, a series of lines that came together into a coherent image — a huge, tentacled creature dragging a ship with three masts into the water. “It was believed to be a cephalopod of immense size, and ancient sailors believed it was capable of pulling men overboard, breaking ships in half, and dragging vessels into the sea.”

“It is the name our people took,” Jax said, “to make humans fear us.”

“What did they call you before that?”

He shook his head, staring at the image. He’d never seen anything like it. Arkon was even more intent, leaning so close his face nearly touched the projection, eyes roving over every line. There were clear similarities between the kraken of Halora and the one depicted in the picture. It made Jax proud, for some reason, but also sorrowful. “We don’t know. The kraken cast off the name given to them by humans many years before my birth.”

Macy tilted her head. “Computer, who harvested the halorium?”

“Initially, it was harvested by human divers. After several fatalities connected to electronic and equipment failure, halorium harvest was shifted to octopoid laborers.”

“Octopoid,” Macy mumbled, glancing down at Jax’s tentacles. “Tell me about the octopoids.”

“Octopoid is an unofficial term used to designate a genetically modified, aquatic race of humanoids. They were created by an integrated team of Tureon and IDC scientists, using a splice of human and cephalopod DNA as their basis. The octopoids were designed to be intelligent enough to follow orders and are adapted specifically to Halorian oceans.”

“What does that mean?” Jax asked, looking from the screen to Macy. “Human and cepho-pod?”

“Computer, show me a cephalopod.”

The screen changed, displaying a creature very much like the kraken it had before. But — like the halorium shard — this creature looked like it was there. It had eight tentacles, all covered with suction cups along their undersides, and a bulbous head attached directly to its lower half. Its eyes were familiar; they were the same as Jax’s, or Arkon’s, or any of their people’s.

“I think…” Macy turned her face toward Jax, “you’re part human and part cephalopod.”

Jax’s hearts thumped as he exchanged a glance with Arkon. He didn’t understand much of what the Computer had said, but Macy’s summary was clear. The kraken had always known they’d been created by humans, but had never known — with any degree of certainty, anyway — they were related to humans.

Macy grasped his wrist, lifted his hand, and pressed their palms together. “It would explain why we’re so similar.”

He bent his fingers over her fingertips. “And yet so different.”

“Tell me more about the octopoids,” Macy said, shifting closer to Jax.

“The octopoids were designed to possess heightened strength, speed, and reflexes. The regenerative capabilities of their cephalopod cousins were also enhanced, allowing them to heal from wounds at an accelerated rate, averaging eight-point-three times the speed of the natural human healing process. The IDC had intentions to use similarly modified beings in potential military scenarios, but the octopoids in this facility were used only to harvest halorium. They were designed to exhibit low fertility rates and a low occurrence of female chromosomes in the overall population, counterbalanced by a relatively short gestation period of seventeen weeks. The average life expectancy of octopoids is believed to be comparable to humans, though conclusive data has never been obtained.”

“Our numbers dwindle because this is how they made us?” Jax asked.

“It is no wonder there are so few females, and younglings are so rare,” Arkon said. “It is no blight on our people. It was designed into us from the beginning.”

“But why?” Jax asked. He looked back at the screen, as though it would show him an answer he could understand. “Why were kraken…why were octopoids made with low fertility and few females?”

“Those features were included as a means of population control,” the computer explained. “In order to save on space within the facility, it was more practical to allow the octopoids to reproduce naturally and keep the labor force populated. Low fertility and fewer females resulted in far more manageable and even population growth.”

“So, we were not merely their slaves, they controlled our young, too? They…restricted our ability to continue our race?” Jax’s stomach twisted, and his muscles were tense; the wrongs had been committed hundreds of years before, but their effects had never ceased.

“We existed only to fulfill a specific purpose for them,” Arkon said. “And even after they were gone, we never broke out of their shadow. We exist, and nothing more. Even that has been threatened by the very beings who created us.”

“Why did the humans leave this place?” Macy asked them. “No one in The Watch knows of it, or about any of you, so where else would they have gone?”

“They didn’t leave.” Jax met her gaze; the first hints of fear broke through her confusion.

She turned her attention back to the screen. “Computer, what happened to the humans in the facility?”

“Macy…” To his own ears, Jax’s tone was strange, sad, reluctant.

“Official records are incomplete. At the time of the incident, several IDC guardsmen reported that the octopoid population had gone into open revolt against the facility’s human inhabitants.”

The screen changed. Jax had never seen images from the uprising — none of them had — but he knew it for what it was immediately.

Another set of ghosts.

A human male appeared in the projection. The room behind him had to be one of the cabins, just like the one Macy had chosen as a den. Droplets of water rolled down his face; he wiped at them absently with the back of his hand and smeared blood over his cheek from a cut near his eye.

“This is Ensign Matherson of the Interstellar Defense Coalition, officer number three-two-seven-alpha-nine. If anyone is in range to pick up this transmission, this facility is being overrun. The—”

Frantic shouts echoed from the hallway behind him. He turned quickly, lifting a gun and pointing it toward the door. “We are being overrun by those…those things the scientists made. Those fucking octo-freaks or whatever the hell they call them. Word is they’ve already blown a hole in the side of the sub bay and flooded it.”

The human — Ensign Matherson — turned back toward whatever device had captured his image. “We have the few surviving civvies and scientists hunkering down in their cabins, but we don’t have the supplies to last long. We need immediate support and evacuation. Please, we ne—”

He jumped as a series of booms erupted from the hallway.

Another human in the same clothes as Matherson entered the doorway. “They’re coming, Mathers! We gotta fall back!”

Matherson looked back at the recording device. “Send help ASAP!”

He ran into the hallway and glanced to his left. There was more shouting, and the two humans raised their weapons and fired, producing more of the booms, even louder now than before. Something hit the other human — it looked like a harpoon, to Jax — and the man fell, knocking Matherson to the floor face-first.

Before Matherson recovered, a large, dark figure leapt onto his back. A kraken.

The kraken wrapped his tentacles around Matherson’s wrists and yanked them apart, the gun clattering away. Matherson struggled to turn and face his opponent as the kraken reached for something beyond the doorframe. A moment later, its hand reappeared, clutching the harpoon.

Matherson screamed. His screams continued for many heartbeats as the kraken jabbed the harpoon into his back repeatedly, splattering himself with blood.

Macy’s hands flew up to cover her mouth.

More kraken moved past the doorway. Distant pops and screams echoed through the hall.

The screen flickered and reverted to its previous state.

“That was the final transmission sent from this facility before the communications array became nonfunctional, sent only on secure military channels,” the computer said. “Contact was maintained with human survivors in cabins two, ten, thirteen, and twenty-six following the incident. Communications ended twenty-one days later, and the residents of those cabins have remained unresponsive in the time since.”

Macy had gone pale, her expression a blend of shock and horror. Jax had known what happened here, but he’d never seen it. This was the first time he felt shame for the actions of his ancestors.

“Macy, are you all right?” he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. She flinched; his chest constricted.

“They would have done that to me.” She pressed a hand to her stomach.

“I would not have allowed it. I would have done everything in my power to protect you, and beyond.”

“I…I don’t—” Macy turned and ran, crossing the room before she doubled over and vomited in the corner.

Jax hurried to Macy’s side. He eased down beside her, put his arms around her shoulders, and brushed her hair out of her face. Was this another bout with her recent illness, or a result of what she’d seen?

“I need to lie down,” she whispered.

“Anything.” Jax gently scooped her into his arms and rose, holding her against his chest. She curled into him.

“There are dead bodies in those rooms.”

“Just more ghosts.” He smoothed back her hair as he carried her into the hallway, glancing over his shoulder. Arkon nodded, his expression troubled.

Jax turned his attention forward. He wouldn’t think about the dead bodies, or the Uprising. Macy was here now, alive…and he would keep her that way.