Page 37 of Found

Zehn guided me to a flat boulder, gently pressing me down to sit. He removed his pack and then mine, setting them asidebefore lowering himself beside me. The rock was warm from the alien sun, the heat seeping through my clothes, soothing my aching muscles.

“Now,” he said, his voice gentle but firm, “tell me what’s really troubling you.”

I looked away, focusing on the alien landscape spread before us. “I told you, I’m fine. Just tired.”

“Everly.” Just my name, but the way he said it—a command, a plea, a promise—broke something loose inside me.

“I don’t know if I want to go home,” I whispered, the admission torn from someplace deep and vulnerable.

He was silent for a long moment, so long that I finally turned to look at him. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes—those amber eyes that seemed to see right through me—were intense with emotion.

“And why is that?” he asked carefully, as if testing the ground before committing his weight to it.

How could I explain it? That the thought of returning to my monotonous life felt like a prison sentence now? That the idea of never seeing him or Khaaz again created a physical pain I couldn’t rationalize? That I’d never felt more alive than I did here, running for my life with two alien warriors as my protectors?

“My life there...” I gestured vaguely, struggling to find the words. “It’s just so...empty. Data entry. Takeout. Streaming. Sleep. Repeat. Here, everything is...more. The colors are brighter. The food tastes better. The danger is real, not just something I read about online.”

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “And there’s you. And Khaaz. Whatever this is between us... I’ve never felt anything like it. The thought of losing that, of losing you both, hurts in a way I can’t explain.”

Zehn’s hand moved to cover mine, his palm rough with calluses, his claws carefully retracted. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through me that had nothing to do with the alien climate.

“The unity dreams don’t lie, Everly,” he said softly. “What you’re feeling—what we’re all feeling—it’s real. It’s rare. Among my people, it’s sacred.”

“But how can it work?” I asked, the question that had been haunting me since the first dream. “You and Khaaz can barely tolerate each other. And I’m human. I don’t belong in your world any more than you belong in mine.”

His fingers tightened around mine. “You belong. Fate mates are sacred. Regardless, we belong in a world we make for ourselves,” he suggested, his voice low and intense. “Between the stars. Beyond the boundaries others have set.”

The thought was simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating. To leave behind everything I knew—my planet, my species, my understanding of what relationships should be—for something entirely new. Something undefined.

“I’m scared,” I admitted, my voice barely audible.

“Good,” he said, surprising me. “Fear keeps you sharp. Keeps you alive. But don’t let it rule you, Everly. Don’t let it make your choices for you.”

In the distance, a shadow moved among the rocks—Khaaz returning from his scouting mission. Zehn tracked his progress with predatory focus, but his hand remained on mine, a bridge between us, a promise of possibility.

“Think on it,” he said, rising to his feet in one fluid motion. “The choice is yours, always. But know this—neither Khaaz nor I will let you go easily. Not now. Not after sharing unity.”

The possessiveness in his tone should have frightened me. Instead, it sent a thrill of anticipation through my body, a feeling of belonging I’d never experienced before.

Khaaz reached us, his iridescent eyes taking in our proximity, our postures, the lingering touch of Zehn’s hand on mine. Rather than jealousy, I saw understanding in his gaze, acceptance of whatever had passed between us in his absence.

“The path is clear,” he reported. “No active sensors detected. But we should move quickly. Daylight fades fast in this region.”

Zehn nodded, lifting our packs with effortless strength. “Lead on.”

As we resumed our journey, I found myself walking taller, my steps more purposeful. The future was still uncertain, fraught with dangers I couldn’t foresee. But for the first time since I’d been stranded on this alien world, I allowed myself to consider that maybe, just maybe, going back to Earth wasn’t the only path forward.

Maybe home wasn’t a place at all, but the space between two warriors who had claimed me as their own. And maybe that was exactly where I belonged.

14 /KHAAZ

The scentof decay and abandonment filled my nostrils as I approached the facility. Old memories stirred—the smell of sterile labs, of fear, of pain—but I pushed them aside. This wasn’t about me or my past. This was about keeping Everly safe. My claws extended and retracted unconsciously as I surveyed the perimeter, every sense heightened, every muscle tense. Better me facing whatever dangers lurked within these walls than her. Better me than our mate.

The sun hung low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the weathered exterior of what had once been an Engineer outpost. Thick vegetation had reclaimed much of the structure, vines crawling up the walls like grasping fingers. Nature always won in the end. I knew that better than most.

I glanced back toward our makeshift camp, just visible through the tree line. Zehn was keeping Everly occupied with setting up what should be our last night outdoors. Tomorrow we’d reach our destination—if we survived tonight. If this facility didn’t hold any nasty surprises.

The weight of my responsibility settled between my shoulder blades like a physical thing. I’d been created as a weapon, a hybridized experiment—part Rodinian, part something else theKridrin had spliced into my genetic code. Something savage that I kept caged inside except when it was needed. Right now, that savagery kept my senses sharp as I circled the building’s perimeter, testing for traps.

---