Wrylack stood on board the Mystic7 with Norkov, Milore, Tenz, Zorlok, and a handful of other cyborgs. Each had volunteered for the mission, despite how dangerous it was, and their crew was fuller than usual. The Mystic7 usually ran with a crew of ten, but over a dozen males had volunteered.

“You’re sure the male you spoke with is going to retrieve Mishka and bring her to us?” Wrylack asked.

“You’re going to have to make a choice, Wrylack,” Norkov said. “I have a male in place to bring Mishka to us, and another in place for Bekvir. You need to decide which is more important. Revenge for your mate, or getting your daughter home safely.”

Wrylack growled. “Why can’t I do both?”

“The sooner we get Mishka home, the better,” Norkov said. “The male retrieving Bekvir has a certain set of skills. He’s waiting for instructions.”

“I need to take care of Bekvir, or at least look him in the eye and tell him why he’s going to die,” Wrylack said.

“We can cloak the Mystic7,” Zorlok said. “It would give Wrylack enough time to satisfy the urge to protect his mate, and keep his daughter safe too.”

“Are we landing on Zelran?” Wrylack asked.

“No, we’re meeting both males at the Garva outpost. I asked them to make certain Mishka didn’t see Bekvir at any time. We don’t want to upset her more than she already will be,” Norkov said. “I can only imagine how terrified she’ll be.”

“I’ll see Mishka first,” Wrylack said. “Zorlok, while I attend to Bekvir, will you watch my daughter?”

“I would be honored,” Zorlok said.

Time seemed to pass slowly for Wrylack as they neared Garva. When they landed, he followed Norkov with Zorlok right behind them. People watched them pass, but no one stopped them along the way. Wrylack wondered if he looked as fierce as he felt, wanting both to know that Mishka was safe and that Bekvir would die a horrible death.

“I should warn you, the male who has your daughter is… a bit brutal,” Norkov said. “He would never harm a child, but his appearance tends to scare people.”

Wrylack didn’t say anything, but his gut clenched. He hoped Mishka was all right. He hoped the child wouldn’t be terrified, taken from her home and what was possibly the only family she’d ever known. If it had been anyone but Bekvir who had her, he might have convinced Shaylee her daughter was safe and well taken care of. But there was no way he’d leave the child with that monster.

They entered a small building in the center of the Garva outpost and Wrylack’s eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. A scarred Skuriu warrior held Mishka close to his body, his stance protective. The male’s black hair hung long down his back with two braids over his shoulders. But it was his eyes that nearly made Wrylack halt. They were black as obsidian and so cold. The eyes of a killer.

“Norkov, you will keep your promise?” the warrior asked.

“Yes, Herok. You may join my crew when we search for the other slaves, and claim one as your mate. It is a small price to pay for the service you have done for us,” Norkov said.

Wrylack slowly approached and knelt in front of the small child. She was only three, and already she was stunning. She had the blue eyes so common with Zelranians, and while her skin wasn’t the pale ivory of Shaylee, it wasn’t quite the color of a Zelranian either, but somewhere in between. Her hair was black with teal highlights, and he knew she would be a heartbreaker when she was older. Her facial features resembled his Shaylee, and he was thankful she’d inherited little from her birth father. As far as Wrylack was concerned, that monster was no more than a sperm donor. This was Shaylee’s daughter, and therefore his daughter.

“My name is Wrylack,” he told her softly. “And your mother is my mate.”

She stuck her thumb in her mouth and studied him.

“Your mother’s name is Shaylee. She’s a human,” Wrylack said. “Did you know that you’re part human and part Zelranian?”

Herok covered her ears with his hands and spoke low. “I found her locked in a room with no windows and a narrow bed. It looked like they fed her on the floor like an animal. You can’t tell in this lighting, but she has bruises. They were not kind to her.”

Wrylack pulled the male’s hands away from Mishka’s ears. “You don’t remember your mother because you were taken from her the moment you were born, Mishka, but she loves you and misses you very much.”

The little girl blinked up at him and kept sucking on her thumb.

“I love your mother, and since you’re part of her, that means I love you too. I want to take you home with me, to my mate, where we’ll be a family. Do you understand, Mishka? Do you know what a family is?”

She hesitantly moved away from Herok and came closer to him. Her little hand reached up and touched his face, then his hair, before she curled herself against his chest. Wrylack wrapped an arm around her and closed his eyes.

“I promise you will be safe, Mishka. I have claimed your mother as my mate, and I now claim you as my daughter.”

Wrylack stood, holding her against him. Zorlok was standing nearby and Wrylack passed his daughter to his friend. Mishka tensed and stared at him with wide eyes.

“There’s something I have to do,” he told her. “I’ll return to you shortly.”

Wrylack touched her cheek, then leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

Zorlok walked off with Mishka in his arms, the little girl staring over his shoulder in confusion as she was carried away, and Wrylack focused on Norkov. “Where’s Bekvir?”

“In an abandoned building at the edge of the outpost,” Norkov said. “We thought it best he was away from everyone… so the screams wouldn’t raise any alarm among the people here.”

“Is that the man who took her?” Herok asked. “The one who has abused that sweet girl?”

“Yes,” Norkov answered. “Her birth father. He raped her mother, then took the baby when she was born.”

Herok’s eyes flashed gold a moment. “I’m coming with you.”

They followed Norkov to the edge of the outpost and a building that looked like it might collapse at any moment. Screams came from within, and Wrylack pushed through the doors and came to a stop just inside. Bekvir had been strapped to a metal table and blood pooled underneath. His eyes were wild as he begged for his life. The once ice-cold general he’d followed into battle didn’t look so fearsome right now. The way he begged for his life was pathetic, and Wrylack was fairly certain over the stench of blood he could detect urine. What sort of warrior pissed himself? It just proved that the male was a coward who picked on those weaker than him.

Wrylack approached the table and looked down at the male in disgust. “Do you know why you’re here, Bekvir?”

The Zelranian’s eyes went even wider. “Wrylack?”

“You made a fatal error,” Wrylack said.

“Whatever you want, it’s yours,” Bekvir said. “Just free me.”

“I have what I want. I have my mate, and now I have her daughter.”

Wrylack knew the moment Bekvir realized who he meant. The male paled and began breathing harder. There was a wildness to his eyes as he comprehended no one was coming to save him. He was going to die this day, and it would be a horrible death. Wrylack couldn’t think of anyone more deserving of such a fate, except perhaps the male who had given Shaylee to this monster.

“She was a slave. Just a slave. She meant nothing,” Bekvir said.

Wrylack growled and leaned close. Drawing a blade from the belt wrapped around his waist, he pressed the metal against Bekvir’s arm, drawing more blood.

“That slave, that female you think meant nothing, is my mate. You terrorized her, raped her, then stole her daughter. I might have been more lenient if you had been kind to Mishka, but it’s obvious she’s been abused. I will do anything to make sure my females are safe,” Wrylack said.

He dug the blade deeper, not stopping until he hit bone.

“Shaylee is mine, and now Mishka is mine. And the male who took you will make sure they never have to be afraid of you again. As much as I want to end your life myself, my daughter needs me,” Wrylack said. “Mishka and Shaylee are more important than my need for vengeance. Especially when there are others as disgusted with you as I am, who are more than willing to get the job done.”

He jerked the blade from Bekvir’s arm, the male screaming out once more. Wrylack sheathed the blade and stared at the Drelthene across the table. The male flashed his fangs in a cruel smile, and Wrylack knew that he would make sure Bekvir didn’t go easy. The Drelthenes were a bloodthirsty lot to begin with, but when it came to those who harmed females and children, they were even more fearsome.

“Make him suffer,” Wrylack said. “Draw it out as long as you can, then end him. You can have whatever you want in payment.”

“I already made a deal with Norkov. It will be my pleasure to take care of such a male as this one. Females should be cherished, not brutalized. Go to your child and your mate,” the male said.

“Thank you,” Wrylack said, then turned and walked out of the building. Norkov followed, and they returned to the Mystic7. He didn’t know what deal Norkov had made with the Drelthene, but it wouldn’t surprise him if it was the same as Herok’s deal. Both Drelthenes and Skurius were in need of mates. While the Drelthenes did have some females on their world, they had a tendency to breed more males, making their population uneven. Wrylack couldn’t fault either male for wanting to rescue a slave to take home as a mate. And if what Shaylee said was true, those females would be lucky to have those males. Assuming the females weren’t terrified of them.

Wrylack entered the Mystic7 and stopped long enough to clean his blade and make sure he didn’t have any of Bekvir’s blood on him, then he went in search of his daughter. He found her in the galley with Zorlok, a piece of fruit in her small hands. She hadn’t yet taken a bite and stared at the fruit, almost as if she were afraid she’d get into trouble for eating. It infuriated him that she’d been treated so poorly. Children were innocent, and yet Bekvir and his family had abused his own flesh and blood.

“Her stomach was growling,” Zorlok said.

Wrylack gently picked up Mishka and cradled her against his chest. “We’re going home, to see your mother. She’ll be so happy to see you.”

“We’re making a stop on the way,” Zorlok said. “I arranged for us to go to Alpha9. I thought you might want some clothing and toys for her, since she didn’t come with anything other than what she’s wearing, and what better place to find them than the trading post?”

“Thank you,” Wrylack said. “I’m afraid I hadn’t thought of that, and since we don’t have children on Xpashta yet, it’s doubtful we have anything there for her. As anxious as I am to return to Shaylee, I want to make sure Mishka is properly cared for as well.”

“I sent a message to the commanders. They’re going to let your mate know that you’re safe and will be returning soon.” Zorlok clapped him on the back. “Your daughter is a beauty. Guard her well.”

Wrylack carried Mishka to the room he’d been assigned. They’d placed an extra cot in there, and he eased her down onto it. She finally bit into her piece of fruit, finishing it quickly, and curled up on the bed. He wondered when she’d last eaten, and anger surged inside him again. Wrylack drew a blanket over her, then sat on his own bed and watched her. She stared back at him, but she didn’t seem afraid. For some reason, she seemed to trust him, as if she understood he was going to protect her. Now that she was under better lighting, he saw the bruises marring her arms and legs. It infuriated him that someone could harm a defenseless child.

“No one will ever hurt you again, Mishka. I will bring death to anyone who dares to harm you,” he promised.

He didn’t know how much of his words she understood. It had been a long time since he’d been around someone so young, but she seemed to find comfort from the sound of his voice if nothing else, and closed her eyes. It wasn’t long before she was resting peacefully. He felt the Mystic7 lift off and couldn’t wait to see his mate once more. He only hoped that Norkov would have good news about the second child, but for now, they would focus on Mishka. She was here, safe, and he would do anything to make sure that didn’t change.

Garva was several days journey from Xpashta. Even though he’d slept little since leaving his planet, Wrylack spent most of his time watching over Mishka and introducing her to the other cyborgs on board. He’d wiped her off with a cloth, but hadn’t had any clean clothing for her. She seemed hesitant around everyone, clinging to him like she was afraid he’d pass her off to someone else and never return. When they reached Alpah9, he carried her through the marketplace. Mishka kept her face buried against his chest most of the time, but Zorlok helped him select clothes and a few toys for her.

“Children grow quickly,” one merchant said. “You should purchase a few things in a larger size so your daughter can grow into them.”

Wrylack thought it was sound advice and picked up four more outfits, so Mishka wouldn’t go without when she grew a little more. As long as she had a few things to get her by, he could always travel to Alpha9 for more later. It was only a day’s journey from Xpashta. The rest of the crew picked up some things they either needed or wanted, and then they loaded everything back onto the Mystic7 and began the journey home.

Zorlok followed Wrylack back to his room, setting Mishka’s new things down on the bed. His daughter hadn’t bathed or been changed in days, and while it seemed she knew how to go to the bathroom on her own, she still needed to be clean before she saw her mother. He supposed the male who rescued her hadn’t bathed her, fearing it was inappropriate. If the warrior was like Wrylack, he likely hadn’t been certain of the proper protocol for taking care of a female child. The bruises were fading on her arms and legs, and Wrylack had done a scan of her small body, thankful not to find any lasting damage from her time with Bekvir.

“Mishka, have you ever used a cleansing unit before?” he asked.

She stared at him and didn’t say anything. In fact, she had yet to utter a single word, and he started to worry that perhaps she didn’t know how to speak. Wrylack led her by the hand into the bathroom and started the cleansing unit. She stared at it wide-eyed, and didn’t protest when he removed her small clothes and nudged her under the water. The bottom of the unit turned brown from the dirty water running down his small daughter, and he knew she needed some soap, but he wasn’t about to touch her in any way that might make her uncomfortable. Instead, he tried to show her how to do it herself. She didn’t do a perfect job of getting clean, but was much improved.

“We’ll let your mother work more with you on that,” Wrylack said. “I’m not certain of the rules about daddies bathing their daughters.”

The unit shut off, and Wrylack turned on the dryer. Her hair gleamed under the lights now that she was clean. Unfortunately, her bruises were more pronounced now that her skin was even paler than before. He knew Shaylee was not going to be pleased that her daughter had come to harm. Wrylack helped Mishka get dressed in her new clothes and showed her the toys he’d purchased for her. While she played, he observed her and did another scan of her body, focusing on her bones and then her head.

He couldn’t detect any brain damage that would keep her from speaking and decided she’d either never been taught, or chose to be silent for whatever reason. He pointed to different things around the room, telling her what each item was. She watched, and seemed to be paying attention, but she still didn’t utter a sound. There had to be something he was missing. With her head tilted back as she studied the ceiling, he did yet another scan, this time focusing on her throat. He adjusted his gaze to study the soft tissue more than the bones in her neck. It was so faint he wasn’t surprised he’d missed it before. Fury engulfed him at the horrors this small girl had been through.

Wrylack slowly reached for Mishka and pulled her onto his lap. Turning her head sideways, he ran a finger down the column of her neck, pushing her hair aside. There was a faint pin prick, large enough for a small rod to have been pushed through, and he found a match on the opposite side. While her vocal cords hadn’t been completely severed, there was just enough damage that it probably made speaking uncomfortable for her, or perhaps she didn’t like the sound of her voice. It looked like the rest of her throat had healed well enough not to hinder her from drinking or eating. Tears gathered in his eyes as he held her tightly.

“I’m so sorry, sweet girl,” he murmured. “I will do whatever I can to make it better.”

There were options, but he didn’t know if Shaylee would approve. Mishka was too young right now, but as she grew, cybernetics would be a possibility to correct the issue. It was possible that surgery could help, even though it wouldn’t correct the problem completely, but that seemed rather harsh for someone so young. In the meantime, they would need to find a way for Mishka to communicate with them. He rocked her in his arms until she fell asleep curled against his chest. Wrylack knew he should prepare Shaylee, get word to her before they landed, but he didn’t want her more stressed than she already was.

“We’ll get you home to your mother, and then we’ll figure things out. You’re safe, Mishka. That’s the important thing.”

He continued to hold her as she slept. Even though she was not of his blood, he already felt as if she were his. Perhaps, over time, she would forget the trauma she’d suffered at the hands of Bekvir. She was still so young. He hoped she would be able to live a full and happy life without darkness clouding her future.

“I love you,” he whispered to the girl sleeping in his arms, and vowed to tell her that every day for the rest of his life.