Kira's POV
I woke to alarms screaming through the entire tower.
My body ached everywhere as I jerked upright in bed. Red emergency lights flashed in my small room. Through the walls, I heard boots running. Shouting in the Xylaran language.
Something was very wrong.
My door burst open without warning. Commander Vex'thor stood there, fully armored now, a plasma weapon strapped to his back. His violet eyes found me instantly.
"Get dressed. Now." His voice was sharp with urgency I'd never heard before.
"What's happening?"
"I don't repeat orders." He threw combat clothes at me—black pants, a gray shirt, boots. Real clothes, not the white dress. "Thirty seconds or I'm dragging you as you are."
I scrambled out of bed, ignoring my body's screams of protest. Pulled on the clothes as fast as my shaking hands allowed. They were too big, meant for someone taller, but I didn't care.
"Done," I gasped.
He grabbed my wrist and yanked me into the main quarters. Through the massive windows, I saw smoke rising from the lower city. Explosions bloomed like deadly flowers.
"What is that?" I breathed.
"Resistance attack." He pulled me toward the door. "They've breached the tower's lower levels. We need to move to the secure zone."
Resistance. Lysa was part of the resistance.
Had she done this? Was she trying to rescue me?
We ran into the hallway. It was chaos—Xylaran officers rushing past, some wounded and bleeding blue blood. The beautiful artwork on the walls was cracked and smoking.
"Stay close to me," Vex'thor ordered, his grip on my wrist like iron. "If we get separated, you're dead. The resistance kills collaborators on sight."
"I'm not a collaborator! I was forced—"
"They won't stop to ask." He pulled me into a crowded emergency stairwell. Other officers pushed past us, dragging their own human offerings. Some of the humans were crying. Others looked hopeful, like they thought rescue was coming.
We'd made it down three flights when the explosion hit.
The blast threw me against the wall so hard I saw stars. My ears rang. Smoke filled everything. Someone was screaming—maybe me.
Strong hands grabbed me, pulled me to my feet. Vex'thor's face appeared through the smoke, blood running from a cut on his forehead.
"Can you walk?" he demanded.
I nodded, though I wasn't sure it was true.
"Then move!"
We stumbled down more stairs. Behind us, I heard weapons firing. Plasma blasts lighting up the smoke. The resistance fighters were inside the tower now.
We burst through a doorway into an underground parking level. Transport vehicles were loading officers in organized chaos. Guards directed traffic with military precision despite the attack.
"Commander Vex'thor!" A blue-skinned officer ran toward us. "Your personal transport is ready. Bay Seven."
"Status of the resistance fighters?"
"Still advancing. They've taken floors one through forty. We're holding at fifty, but—" Another explosion rocked the building. "We need to evacuate now, sir."
Vex'thor dragged me toward Bay Seven. His transport waited—sleek, black, military-grade. The door stood open.
"Get in," he ordered.
I climbed inside. The interior had two seats and weapons storage. This wasn't a luxury vehicle. This was a war machine.
Vex'thor jumped in beside me and slammed his palm on the control panel. The vehicle roared to life. The door sealed shut.
"Hold on," he said.
The transport shot forward so fast I was thrown back against the seat. We screamed out of the parking bay and into the city streets at impossible speed.
Through the window, I watched the tower behind us. Explosions continued climbing higher. Smoke poured from broken windows. The resistance was really doing it—attacking the Integration Complex's most powerful building.
"They're insane," Vex'thor muttered, his hands steady on the controls as he weaved through traffic at deadly speeds. "Attacking during shift change when the building's most populated. The casualties will be enormous."
"Maybe they think it's worth it," I said quietly. "To strike back at the people who enslaved them."
His violet eyes flicked to me for just a second. "Is that what you think? That we enslaved you?"
"What else would you call it?"
He didn't answer. Just drove faster.
We'd made it maybe ten blocks when his console beeped urgently. A transmission came through—audio only, crackling with interference.
"All units, be advised: the resistance is targeting Cultural Offerings specifically. They've executed seven offerings found in officer quarters. They're calling it 'liberation through mercy killing.'"
My blood went cold.
The resistance was killing the people they were supposed to save.
"Why?" I whispered. "Why would they do that?"
"Because to them, you're already dead," Vex'thor said flatly. "What we do to offerings—what I did to you—they see it as corruption beyond saving. They think killing you is a kindness."
"That's insane."
"That's war." He took a sharp turn, the transport tilting dangerously. "Everyone becomes a monster eventually."
Another transmission interrupted: "Commander Vex'thor, priority message. Report to Military Headquarters immediately. The High Council requires your presence for emergency strategy meeting."
"Acknowledged," Vex'thor replied. He changed direction, heading toward the massive fortress at the city's center.
"What about me?" I asked.
"You stay with me. I'm not leaving you somewhere the resistance can find you." His jaw was tight. "You're my responsibility until the contract expires. That means I protect you. Even from your own people."
We reached Military Headquarters—a fortress of black metal surrounded by armed guards and defensive weapons. The gates opened to let us through. Guards waved us toward the underground parking.
But as Vex'thor slowed to enter, a figure stepped out from behind a support column.
A woman in resistance combat gear, her face covered by a mask. She raised a plasma weapon directly at our transport.
At me.
"Stop the vehicle!" she screamed. "Let the human go!"
Vex'thor's hand moved to his own weapon.
"Don't," I said urgently. "If you shoot her, more will come. Let me talk to her."
"You're not leaving this transport."
"She's going to kill us both if I don't!"
The woman fired a warning shot that hit the ground inches from our vehicle. "Final warning! Release the offering or I destroy this vehicle!"
Vex'thor cursed in his language. His finger hovered over the vehicle's weapons system. One press and he could kill her. But the explosion would alert every resistance fighter in the area.
"Please," I said to him. "Let me try."
He stared at me for a long moment. Then, shockingly, he nodded. "You have thirty seconds. If she shoots, I'll kill her and everyone she's with."
He opened the door.
I stepped out slowly, hands raised. "I'm human! I'm one of you!"
"You're wearing their clothes," the woman spat. "Riding in his transport. You've been corrupted."
"I was forced! My family sold me to him!" I took a step closer. "Please. I don't want to be here. I want to go home."
The woman's weapon wavered slightly. "They all say that. Then they betray us to save themselves."
"I won't. I swear."
Behind me, I heard Vex'thor's transport door open wider. Heard him getting out, weapon ready.
The woman's eyes widened. "He's coming! Get down!"
She fired.
Not at me—at Vex'thor.
Time seemed to slow. I saw the plasma bolt streaking through the air. Saw Vex'thor's eyes widen in surprise.
And my body moved before my brain could think.
I threw myself backward, crashing into him, knocking him sideways.
The plasma bolt missed his head by inches, hitting the transport behind us instead. The vehicle exploded in flames.
We both hit the ground hard. Vex'thor rolled immediately, covering my body with his as debris rained down.
The woman stared at us in shock. "You... you saved him? You saved your enslaver?"
I didn't have an answer. I didn't know why I'd done it.
Vex'thor stood, pulling me up with him, his weapon now aimed at the woman. "Leave. Now. Or I won't miss next time."
Other guards were running toward us, alerted by the explosion.
The woman looked at me one more time. "You chose the wrong side," she said. Then she vanished into the shadows like smoke.
The guards surrounded us immediately. "Commander! Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine." Vex'thor's eyes were fixed on me, his expression completely unreadable. "Get us inside. Now."
They rushed us into the fortress. Through secure doors and down corridors until we reached a private room. Guards posted outside.
Only then did Vex'thor release my arm. He turned to face me, and for the first time since I'd met him, he looked confused.
"Why did you do that?" he demanded. "Why did you save me? I'm the monster who hurt you. You should have let her shoot me."
I was shaking, adrenaline crashing through my system. "I don't know."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one I have!" I shouted back. "Maybe because if you died, my contract transfers to someone worse. Maybe because I'm an idiot. Or maybe—" I stopped, not wanting to say it.
"Maybe what?"
"Maybe because thirty days or not, monster or not, you're the only thing standing between me and people who want to kill me 'for my own good.'" Tears burned in my eyes. "At least you want me alive."
He stared at me for a long, long time.
Then he did something that shocked me more than anything that had happened all day.
He sat down heavily in a chair, suddenly looking exhausted. Human, almost.
"You just saved my life," he said quietly. "You, a human offering I've treated as property. You threw yourself in front of a weapon for me."
"Don't make it into something it's not."
"I'm not." He looked up at me, his violet eyes holding something I couldn't identify. "I'm just realizing that maybe I don't understand humans as well as I thought."
A knock interrupted whatever I might have said.
"Commander, the High Council is waiting," a voice called.
Vex'thor stood, all business again. "Stay here. Don't open this door for anyone but me."
"Where are you going?"
"To a meeting that will decide whether we continue the Cultural Offering program or terminate it." He paused at the door. "They're considering executing all current offerings. For their own protection, they claim. To prevent the resistance from using you as propaganda."
My blood went cold. "They're going to kill us."
"They're going to try." His hand was on the door handle. "But I just realized something. You saved me today. I owe you a debt. And I pay my debts."
"What does that mean?"
He looked back at me one final time. "It means I'm going to that meeting. And I'm going to make sure you live through this, even if it costs me everything."
Then he was gone.
And I was alone in a locked room, waiting to find out if I'd be alive in an hour.