Page 68 of Bound

I close my eyes, wanting to fight the darkness, wanting to stay in the moment with Rych, wanting to have a future.

It shouldn’t end like this.

“I’m sorry,” I hear myself whisper as the lights go out altogether.

RYCH

“No! NO!” I roar as Chrissie goes limp in my arms, but this time she is not pretending. “You will save her,” I snarl at Felia. “You did this, you will undo this.”

“I cannot. I warned you, Gryn. The virus will kill her. I can remove it now, but she will still be dead.”

My mate cannot be dead, she cannot. I can still feel her in my breast, in my heart. Her body is still warm. I won’t accept her death.

I will not accept her death.

I level the pulsar at Felia.

“If you kill me, then you’ll never know the truth, and your mate has no chance at all.”

“With my mate dead, I don’t want the truth,” I respond. “I have nothing left to live for.”

“Ah, Rych, we all know you live for the credits,” Felia says nastily. “That’s all that matters to you.”

I say nothing and it clearly irritates her. She wants a response.

“Well, Gryn? You’re usually so talkative, so full of action. What are you going to do now?”

“I’m wondering if Drahon limbs grow back like Oykig tails.” I cock my head to one side and look over her. “And I’m wondering if it’s as painful.”

For the first time, Felia’s face contains an expression. And it’s one of fear.

Now she is speaking my language.

“Put her over there.” Felia points to an unpleasantly familiar specimen table, covered in straps and bristling with bot arms. “Maybe she’s not dead enough.”

I lay Chrissie down, gently brushing her hair away from her face. She doesn’t open her eyes and my heart curls in on itself. I want her with me. I want her by my side, in my nest. If I can’t have her, I will destroy everything which led to her being no more.

“Let me see,” Felia demands.

I spin, pointing the pulsar at her, and she remains impassive. I stand aside.

The specimen table hums, and my brain seems to go into free fall at the sound. Pain spears through my head for a nova-second. I shake it and concentrate on what Felia is doing.

“You won’t remember, Gryn. Even if you think you do. I did the best job removing your memories.”

“Of course you did,” I growl. “Because you didn’t want me to kill you on the spot.”

Her shoulders rise slightly, then they drop again. “Good guess.”

“It’s not a guess. Memories aren’t everything. It’s not the way Gryn work. Our nature runs deeper than memories. My mate taught me that.”

She half turns, her eyes narrowing. “So, you know…”

One of her machines lets out a strangled chime, and she suddenly turns back, all her attention concentrated on a small vid-screen.

“This can’t be right,” she mutters.

“What is it?” I lean a little closer.

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