Page 37 of Stars in Nova

His muscles ached, his nerves screamed, but he kept going. Rage fueled him, the fury of failure driving him forward.

When he managed to stand, his legs wobbled but held. His aqua eyes burned with fire as he staggered toward the elevator.

The BirdKage was an oasis of calm elegance in the chaos of Eden II.

The restaurant’s design embraced subtle opulence: gilded birdcage structures hung from the ceiling and perched on ornate stands overflowing with verdant shrubs and flowers. The air was perfumed with the scent of blooming flora, mingling with the tantalizing aromas of spices and sizzling meats from the open kitchen.

Muted blush and sage tones adorned the walls, complemented by soft golden lighting that warmed the space.

Kisan’s boots dragged along against the marble floor as he entered.

He steadied himself at the door, eyes scanning even as his imposing figure drew a few curious glances from diners.

He ignored them, searching the intimate booths until he spotted his target.

A solid, towering man in a dark-colored Sable Group suit.

His smoldering, commanding presence was offset by the ease with which he leaned back and sat in a corner, finishing off a T-bone steak and Waldorf Salad.

The man’s long mane of ebony and gold locks whipped around his broad shoulders, his aura dominating the space.

His tanned skin, from his neck to his upper limbs and hands, was covered by gilded and azure nebula-like tattoos. The same iridescent sapphire and silver hues flashed on his beard, squared jaw, and full mustache.

His forehead was a wall unto itself, the dark brows thick and unyielding.

It hid a brilliant mind and keen strategic prowess.

Also, an intuition that was out of this world.

The second Kisan staggered into the establishment, the commanding meta tagged him.

He flicked his flaming irises, ringed with glowing jade flecks, over the Guardian as he lurched to him.

Midway, the Rider’s muscles locked, and he straightened, hiding his malaise. The man before him was the last person he wanted to appear weak in front of.

‘Brother,’ the majestic man intoned, studying him with keenness.

‘BossKhan,’ Kisan rasped, lifting his chin, to his leader, a man he had mixed feelings about.

Kainan Sable was the Riders’ badass chief, close confidant, friend, and formidable protector.

Yet the man who’d left Kisan abandoned in the vast loneliness of space, without knowing he was still alive.

What stung was that he’d never come back, believing Kisan and his companion long dead.

Still, they’d exchanged their apologies since and made amends. Nonetheless, an uncertain tension remained, simmering under the surface.

Kainan lifted a brow, his eyes narrowing. ‘You look like hell.’

‘Like he needs tender loving care from a warm-bodied woman.’

The voice owner, seated in a hidden position across from Kainan, leaned forward. Her holo form shimmered, even as a synth-cheroot dangled in her hand. The smoke curled with lazy trails into the air.

‘Fokk, Mirage, it’s a freakin’ woman who got me in this hot mess in the first place.’

The Sable Group’s sage intelligence took a long drag, the embers of her cigarillo luminous with a glow. ‘Rough night, darling?’

Kisan slid into the booth, his movements stiff. ‘Something like that.’

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