Page 2 of Third

He ignoredit.

Selyr let out a slow, mocking sigh, stepping further into the room. “Ah, Tor’Vek. You are a model of restraint, as always. But let’s make things more interesting, shall we? Since you two are now... connected, perhaps introductions are in order.”

He turned to the human first, his yellow eyes gleaming with amusement. “This, my dear, is Tor’Vek. Awarrior, ascientist, aman so disciplined he’s convinced himself he is beyond the primitive urges that define lesser beings. An exemplar of control. Unyielding. Cold. Untilnow.”

His smirk widened as he shifted his gaze to Tor’Vek. “And this, Tor’Vek, is Anya. Ahuman—soft, emotional, entirely ruled by her instincts. Protective, as you saw earlier. Asurvivor, no doubt, but hardly your equal. Oh, but that’s the fun of it, isn’t it? Opposites attract, or so theysay.”

Selyr chuckled, taking a slow step forward, his gaze flicking between them with unveiled amusement. “She is fragile in all the ways you are not. An open book of emotions, fear and hope tangled together in an ever-shifting display. And yet, here she stands. Alittle broken, perhaps, but resilient. Ido wonder, Tor’Vek, how long before that cold shell of yours cracks in her presence.”

He turned slightly, addressing Anya now, his tone dripping with feigned sympathy. “And you, my dear, have found yourself bound to a warrior who believes himself untouchable. What a predicament. Will you adapt? Or will you shatter?” He tapped a finger against his chin, as though considering. “Afascinating question, wouldn’t yousay?”

Selyr let his gaze linger on them a moment longer before exhaling in exaggerated satisfaction. “Ah, but we’ll find out soon enough. The two of you, forced together, bonded in ways neither of you understand yet. This is going to be delightful to watch.”

Shortly after, Tor’Vek was led to a private chamber, the human at his side. His restraints were removed and the door sealed behind them, muffling the sound of retreating footsteps. The air in the chamber was stale, thick with the weight of unspoken words and uncertain fates. The stark walls bore no indication of time or purpose, save for the dull hum of hidden machinery embedded within them. He took in the details with a practiced eye, noting every seam, every potential weakness. But his attention was drawn back to the woman beside him, her breathing uneven, her presence unsettling in ways he did not fully understand.

She exhaled sharply, as though she had been holding her breath for an eternity. Her arms wrapped around herself, fingers pressing into her skin as though she could contain the tremors racking her frame. Her breath hitched, uneven. “They’re gone,” she whispered, the words barely more than a breath. “They were just—” She stopped, swallowing hard, blinking rapidly. “Itried... Ishould have done something. Ishould have fought harder for the other women.”

Her hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms as if the pain could stabilize her. She turned her gaze toward him, her light blue eyes darkened with something deeper than fear—grief, raw and unfiltered. Achoked sound escaped her, half-swallowed before it could fully form. The weight of loss pressed down on her, her body trembling with the effort of holding itin.

“You just stood there,” she accused softly, atremor beneath the words, anger and sorrow tangled together. “You didn’t even flinch. Do they mean nothing toyou?”

Tor’Vek regarded her in silence. Her reaction was inefficient, illogical. And yet, beneath the carefully maintained walls of his mind, the bracelet pulsed again, asensation curling inside him, unfamiliar and unbidden.

His gaze flicked toward her, assessing.

Anatomically, she was unharmed. No visible injuries. No immediate signs of malnutrition. But the telltale tightness in her muscles, the way she clenched her fists, the rapid rise and fall of her chest—

“Are you unwell?”

The question came out clinically, but it was a question, nonetheless.

She snapped her gaze toward him, startled. Her eyes—deep with emotion—searched his face, as though trying to decipher whether he was mockingher.

“I…” She swallowed, the sound barely audible. “Idon’tknow.”

Her voice was soft. Strained. Fragile.

She was not like him. Unfortunate.

Tor’Vek turned, scanning the room. It was stark but functional. Asleeping platform, awater source, and a control panel embedded in the far wall. No immediate exits beyond the sealeddoor.

He retrieved a container of water, then hesitated. His gaze flicked to her again.

She was still naked.

It was… inefficient.

Without a word, he stripped off his black shirt and extended it to her. “This will regulate your body temperature.” It was a practical decision. Clothing was a necessary barrier against the chill of the chamber, nothing more. And yet, as she hesitated before taking it, astrange sense of obligation stirred within him—an instinct he did not recognize. He ignored it, as he ignored all distractions, but the bracelet at his wrist pulsed, as if aware of the anomaly in his thoughts.

Her fingers trembled as she took it, her breath hitching. “Thankyou.”

He did not respond.

The bracelet pulsed again. Asharp, insistent hum against hisskin.

Once again, he ignoredit.

A few hours later, the door slid open. Selyr entered, his expression alight with scientific intrigue. “Settling in?” His focus turned to Tor’Vek. “You may be pleased to know that the bracelet has paused your Final Flight.”

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