Page 54 of Fated to the Dragon Alien

“Inside!” she yelled through the comm. “Grab a weapon from the rack only if you know how to use it. Everyone else, go straight to the cargo hold.”

She ducked under the frame and entered the holding corridor, blinking against the haze on her visor. Footsteps echoed behind her as the miners came through in rows, boots slapping the floor, suits scraped with dust. Elba ducked in beside Rinter. Toval followed behind, shoulders hunched as he braced for a fight that didn’t come. Once they were all in, the mech stepped back and turned to the group.

“Outer corridor secure,” it said.

Cerani opened the inner hatch. It dragged upwards with a groan, and the moment it cleared, the dock lay wide before them.

Dock 4B stretched wide, lit with overhead panels that sent streaks of light across the floor. Crates were sealed to the side. A half-dismantled drone cart sat in the corner. The ESS Mirkasat at the heart of it all like an invitation—squat, scarred, and thick-bodied. The vessel was like a sleek pulse of power in a sea of metal and rage. The lights along the sides of the hull blinked green. Its ramp was already extended and waiting. A miracle.

Cerani clenched her jaw. “Hangar is clear. Move.”

She led the group out, watching every step, every shadow. Behind her, the miners flooded the hangar—quiet, with suits coated in dust. As planned, no one spoke. Six rows. Narrow formation. The mech took rear position, escorting the last wave like an empty threat in case someone tried to interfere.

Cerani’s boots pounded against the deck as they crossed toward the ship’s ramp—just one bright strip across the dock floor, flanked by small lights that blinked blue on approach.

At the top of the ramp stood Stavian—her lover, mate, partner—just inside the bay, armored and ready.

The sight of him hit her chest so hard she almost forgot to breathe.Fek, he was magnificent.

He stood perfectly still, helmet in one hand, dark armor gleaming under the hangar lights. His wings were extended just enough to mark who he was. His eyes locked on her through her helmet’s visor.

Cerani didn’t slow down. She climbed the ramp fast, boots striking metal. At the top, she stopped right in front of him.

“We’re all here,” she said through her comm.

He dragged his free arm around her waist and pulled her to his side as his gaze swept behind her to the line still filing up the ramp. “Then it’s time to leave. For the first and last time.”

SIXTEEN

Stavian

Stavian should have known escape wouldn’t be that easy. Actually, he did. His gut had told him so.

The miners moved fast and quiet, just like Cerani had instructed, and since the sickest of them had recently been treated at the med lab, they were stronger than they’d been when they’d worked every cycle in the mines. He nodded as they passed. Some looked straight ahead like they didn’t see him. Others glanced up and went rigid. A few flinched when they met his eyes. Sema actually stopped when she reached the top, tensed like she expected an attack. He held her gaze until she nodded and stepped inside. He didn’t take offense. He understood.

Axis guards killed people who looked back. Axis officers sent prisoners to die in collapses. He’d been part of that system long enough to know why they didn’t trust him.

Cerani had been busy directing the miners to the cargo hold, where they’d all fit comfortably. She stopped beside him and gave a short nod. “They’re almost all in,” she said.

“Good.” He turned, moving farther down the ramp to be the last one on board, and took one last look around. The hangar lights buzzed quietly above them, and dust moved across the floor like it knew they were about to disappear for good. The last pair of miners moved up the ramp and into the ship. Cerani was right behind him. She didn’t speak, just stood at his side, steady and watchful.

He wouldn’t miss FK-22R. The cracked ground. The mountains in the distance that never changed. He was done with it all.

Then a figure separated from the shadows of the hangar bay.

He froze. His body tensed.

Cerani stiffened behind him. “Who is that?”

“Bendahn,” he said. Her name left a sour taste in his mouth.

She wore the same formal coat she always did, silver-trimmed and spotless, like she’d just stepped out of a palace. Not a single hair was out of place. Her hands were folded behind her back. Her boots clicked over the floor as she stepped forward.

“I expected better sense from you,” she said, her tone flat. “But emotion always was your weakness.”

Stavian stood still at the base of the ramp. “If you get any closer, I can’t promise you’ll walk back out.”

“I trained you.” Bendahn’s mouth curved. “You won’t hurt me.”

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