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To her relief, none objected and they were quick to pass her the seeds as soon as they finished eating. “We need to create a diversion,” Winn continued, her voice low and conspiratorial. “Something that will draw their attention. Give us an opportunity to slip away.”

“But what?” Elara asked, her brows furrowing in thought. “We don’t have any weapons. No resources.”

Winn’s gaze swept around the cell, her mind racing. Their only resources were their ingenuity, their desperation, and the sheer audacity of theirplan.

“We have each other,” Winn said, her voice firm. “And we have a reason to fight. That’s all we need.”

Chapter 14

PAIN LANCEDthrough Jo’Nay’s body, asearing agony that threatened to consume him. He gritted his teeth, suppressing any outward sign of pain, his Vettian warrior training allowing him to withstand torment far beyond the capabilities ofmost.

The Marauders, their faces hidden behind grotesque masks, their eyes gleaming with sadistic glee, were relentless in their pursuit of information. They wanted to know the location of his unit, the secret of his newfound longevity, and the key to unlocking the genetic modifications that had made him a legend among his people.

He had endured hours of interrogation, their methods crude, their techniques barbaric. They had used whips, electrical prods, and sensory deprivation, but he had resisted, his Vettian resilience pushing him beyond the limits of all endurance. Periodically, they would heal him so that they could torture him all themore.

Despite that, he would not betray his comrades, would not divulge the secrets that could jeopardize their safety, theirfuture. He would protect his unit, even at the cost of his own life. Even more important, he would keep the secret of the apples well-hidden.

Skarrp, his patience wearing thin, slammed his fist against the wall, the impact reverberating through the cell. “You think you have a choice, Vettian? You think pain is the only weapon in my arsenal?” He snapped his fingers, and two of his men, their movements practiced and brutal, dragged Winn and the other captive women into the chamber.

Winn’s eyes widened in terror as she saw Jo’Nay’s battered form, the blood staining his white hair, the pain etched on his face. She struggled against her captors, her voice a desperate cry. “Jo’Nay! What do they want? Why are they beating you?”

He struggled to appear unaffected, but she could see his wounds, had witnessed the brutality of the Marauders firsthand, their callous disregard for life, their willingness to inflict pain for their amusement. He suspected what they’d done to him ignited a primal fear within her, afear for his safety, afear for their future, afear that threatened to shatter the fragile hope she had clungto.

Worse, Skarrp reveled in Winn’s terror, her vulnerability a weapon he intended to wield against Jo’Nay in order to get what he wanted. Her fear, her anguish, her desperate cries fueled his sadistic pleasure, adding a layer of cruelty to his interrogation.

“Your pet seems concerned for your well-being, Vettian,” Skarrp said, his voice dripping with menace. “Perhaps a demonstration is in order.”

He gestured toward one of his men, who raised a whip, the leather thongs glinting in the dim light. He knew the Vettian warriors were fiercely protective of those they held in their care. He intended to exploit that bond, to use Winn’s fear as leverage,to break Jo’Nay’s resistance. He would make Jo’Nay watch as he inflicted pain on his mate, forcing him to choose between his loyalty to his unit and his love for the human female. He would make him pay for his defiance.

Jo’Nay, his heart a knot of ice and fire, watched as the Marauder approached Winn, the whip held aloft, asilent threat that hung in the air, heavy and ominous.

Time seemed to slow, each breath a rasping struggle, each heartbeat a hammer blow against his ribs. He had endured unimaginable pain, but the thought of Winn suffering at the hands of these barbarians, these monsters, unleashed a fury within him, aprimal rage that eclipsed his own torment.

Skarrp barked out a harsh laugh, the sound echoing through the chamber. “Time to answer my questions, Vettian, or she will experience what you have.”

Jo’Nay stared at Skarrp, his eyes narrowed, his voice cold and hard. “You’re a liar, Skarrp. You wouldn’t risk damaging your precious merchandise. You need them healthy and untouched to maximize your profits. You’re bluffing, and we both know it.”

He had seen the greed in Skarrp’s eyes, the avarice that drove him, the desire for wealth and power that consumed him. He knew the Marauders would never jeopardize their profits by harming their captives. They were too valuable, their bodies too precious, their futures too lucrative to risk. Skarrp’s threats were empty, adesperate attempt to break his will, to force him to betray his comrades.

His words, acalculated gamble, struck a nerve. He saw a flicker of doubt in Skarrp’s eye, atightening of his jaw, asubtle shift in his posture that betrayed his uncertainty.

Then Skarrp’s face contorted with rage, his eye patch twitching. He had underestimated Jo’Nay, misjudged his resilience, his defiance. No doubt the Marauder had expected fear, submission, adesperate plea for mercy. Instead, Jo’Nay gave him defiance, acold, calculating gaze that saw through his façade, avoice that held no tremor of fear, only contempt and defiance. Even bound and beaten he was determined to remain a threat, achallenge to Skarrp’s authority and an obstacle to his ambitions.

“You’re right, Vettian,” Skarrp said, his voice deceptively calm, amask for the fury that simmered beneath the surface. “There are ways to persuade. To motivate. And they don’t leave lasting marks. Things that will not diminish their value, but will break their spirit. Things that will make them beg for death.”

He paused, letting the silence stretch, the unspoken threat hanging in the air, heavy and suffocating. He smiled, acruel, predatory expression, his voice a menacing whisper. He gestured toward the women, his gaze lingering on their bound forms, the fear etched on their faces. “Think carefully, Vettian. Your cooperation or their suffering. The choice is yours. There are drugs, serums, which can loosen the tongue, break the will, without damaging the merchandise.”

Jo’Nay felt a chill, acold dread that seeped into his bones. He had heard rumors of these drugs, whispers of their potency, their ability to shatter the mind, to erase memories, to leave the victim a hollow shell, apuppet dancing to the puppeteer’s strings. He had never witnessed their effects firsthand, but the fear in Winn’s eyes, the trembling of her lips, the silent plea for reassurance, confirmed his suspicions. These drugs were real, and Skarrp was not above usingthem.

Skarrp, sensing Jo’Nay’s unease, continued, his voice a silken thread, avenomous whisper. “Imagine, Vettian, watching your pet, her friends, transformed into compliant, eager slaves. Their minds shattered, their spirits broken, their bodies available to anyone, to everyone.” He leaned closer, his breath hot and foul against Jo’Nay’s ear. “Imagine knowing that their suffering, their degradation, is your fault. Your choice. Your gift, to them.”

Jo’Nay’s blood ran cold. He glanced at Winn. Her face, ashen and drawn, revealed stark terror, aterror reflected in her eyes, acknowledging Skarrp’s threats were not empty, that he was capable of unimaginable cruelty. He saw, too, the strength in her gaze, the determination to endure, to survive, to protect the fragile hope that flickered within her heart. Most of all, he saw her implicit trust inhim.

He had one possible chance to save them. “If you wish to destroy your valuable cargo, what do I care?” he managed to say with a careless grin. “If anything I would encourage you to do it since it will mean less profit for you, which would please me. But… How will your men like that? What will they do to their precious leader if he cost them a substantial amount of credits because he damaged the cargo?”

The reaction of the men around Skarrp gave weight to his words. They shouted in protest. With a bellow, Skarrp backhanded one of his crew and bounced another off the unforgiving metal walls of theship.

“I have ways, Vettian,” he snarled. He gestured to his men, snatching the whip and using it on them. “I’ll break your spirit, yet, scum. These women are all vulnerable. Their pain will be yours. You will listen to their screams and know your defiance comes at a steep price. Take the women back to their cells! Andput the male across from the females! Perhaps the sight of their suffering will loosen his tongue!”

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