Page 75 of Fractured Souls

It was transcendent. He remembered the look on her face as she stared into his eyes, the shock of realization that she alone could do that to him.

“I trained her,” he said quietly, and he was pleased when her heartbeat accelerated. “She’s a quick study.”

“He’s a good teacher,” she added, not missing a beat.

“Clearly,” Ashrael said dryly.

“Then you are almost ready to face Tharos.” Tarak surveyed his fleet, his gaze becoming distant. “These kinds of missions… the ones that appear straightforward on the surface… they have a way of becoming the most unpredictable. You know it, Nythian.”

“Yes, Sir. But really, in the whole scheme of things, this is…”

“Straightforward,” Ashrael quipped. “Rest assured I will handle things on the other side while you and your mate deliver the Tharian to her nexus. I do not like their kind.”

There was no doubt in Nythian’s mind that a lot of blood was going to be spilled on the Ghost Planet, and not just by the Silent One.

“Be safe.” Tarak pressed his fist against his chest in the traditional Kordolian salute.

“Always,” Nythian replied, returning the gesture.

It was an official farewell.

The boss wore his usual dark kashkan and trousers over soft flight boots. No battle-armor for their commander this mission. Tarak would not be accompanying them to Tharos. The roles within the First Division were changing. Tarak ruled from his command station, coordinating a thousand different positions. Despite his formidable battle-skill, he couldn’t afford to waste his genius fighting all their dirty ground wars.

That would be indulgent, reckless, selfish.

They all understood that.

Nythian and his brothers were given greater freedom, and were responsible for the training and command of the regular forces.

Nythian would have primary command over the Darkstar forces on Tharos. Because of his First Division training, this kind of thing… it came naturally to him, and the warriors that he was responsible for would follow his orders without question, because they all knew what he was.

“Right. Let’s get moving.” He turned toward Mhyndin’s boarding ramp.

Ashrael and Tarak remained perfectly still.

“Are we waiting for something?”

Ashrael’s left eyebrow twitched the tiniest fraction—a tell so small an ordinary mortal would have missed it.

A flicker of irritation.

Ha.

So the Silent One wasn’t so inscrutable after all, was he?

Before any of them realized what was happening, before even Nythian and Tarak heard footsteps, Ashrael turned, his sightless gaze flicking toward the wide entrance doors.

That Kaiin-cursed ability of his.

A pale-haired human appeared, dressed in a lilac kashkan, a small pack slung over her shoulder.

Not quite the attire one would normally choose for a death-mission to Tharos.

“Sorry I’m late,” Noali called, waving her slender hand in apology. Despite her delicate appearance, the power that radiated from her was somehow more monstrous than Ashrael’s.

This was the Silent One’s mate, whose incredible psychic power had almost torn apart the Dark Planet itself. Nythian didn’t fully understand the mechanics of her bond with Ashrael, but he knew they couldn’t be too far apart from each other.

Bad things happened when they were more than an orbit’s length apart.

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