Arden’s drone moved fluidly through the air, scanning and taking pictures. He saw her step away from the group, moving toward a house that looked mostly intact.
Out on the front lawn, he watched her drop to her knees.
Driven by a need he couldn’t fight, he moved toward her. As he got closer, his gut twisted.
Two smaller bodies lay on the overgrown grass. Both were fully covered in thick, gray scales, their faces twisted and deformed.
Kids. They’d just been kids. Probably pre-teens.
Arden knelt there, staring at them. Unmoving.
Dom reached out and touched her shoulder.
She didn’t look up at him, but she lifted a hand and grabbed his. He tightened his fingers on hers.
Pain and rage vibrated off her.
Suddenly, the front door of the house burst open, and a woman staggered out. She saw the bodies and dropped to her knees.
“My babies,” she wailed.
Arden trembled, then pushed to her feet. She approached the woman.
“Arden,” he warned.
She ignored him. “I’m sorry.”
The woman lifted her face. She looked like she was a few years older than Arden. Life had lined her face, and her dark hair, threaded with gray, was tangled.
“My babies.” A harsh, broken exclamation.
The woman had a tiny patch of scales on her cheek, but otherwise appeared untouched.
“My partner hid us when the aliens came.” The woman looked around wildly. “I fell in the basement and hit my head. When I woke up, Annie and Mickey were gone.”
“I’m sorry,” Arden whispered.
The woman’s face collapsed. “They’re gone.” As she broke into sobs, Arden wrapped her arms around the woman, and shared her grief.
“They aren’t hurting anymore,” Arden whispered.
Dom looked at Tane. “Survivor. Only a small touch of scales.”
Tane nodded. “We’ll take her in.”
Dom nodded, his gaze moving back to Arden’s pale-brown hair. She held the woman, tears tracking down her cheeks. He didn’t look at the smaller bodies again, but Dom vowed that he would make the Gizzida pay.
Chapter Seven
Arden felt icy cold as she sat on the Hawk. She was wedged in between Taylor and Sienna, but she couldn’t feel any warmth.
Around her, the squad was talking, but the mood was somber.
The survivor, Alyssa, sat silently at the back of the Hawk with Mac, a blanket wrapped around her hunched shoulders. Arden understood the grief she saw etched on the woman’s face. Every single bit of it.
Arden looked away. She’d powered down the drone, and it sat on an empty seat behind her. She couldn’t believe the devastation she’d seen at Mount Wilson. That any species could be so callous. Those poor people, twisted and deformed.
Those small bodies…
She squeezed her eyes closed. She sat there in silence, the icy grip tightening, deepening.
It was only when she felt the Hawk start to lower that she realized they were back at the Enclave. Staring woodenly out the window, she saw the rock walls blur past.
“We’re home.” Sienna rubbed Arden’s back, her gaze flicking up to her man, Theron, who was standing nearby.
As soon as Roth pushed the door open, Arden spotted Indy standing outside the Hawk. Her friend looked worried.
Arden reached the door and climbed off the Hawk.
“Hey,” Indy said.
Arden nodded.
Noah appeared. “Good work out there with the drone.”
Arden cleared her throat. “The drone’s in the Hawk—”
He nodded. “I’ll get it and start downloading the data you collected.”
She nodded again, watching as he climbed into the Hawk. When he reappeared, he was holding the drone in one hand.
The alarms sounded again, and she knew the berserkers’ Hawk was incoming.
Indy wrapped an arm around Arden’s shoulders. “Come on.”
“Alyssa—”
“Will be taken care of,” Indy said.
Without saying another word, Arden let her friend whisk her away. She wasn’t even sure what route they took, but soon Indy was leading Arden into her quarters.
Indy nudged her toward the bathroom. “Go and have a hot shower. Your skin feels like ice.”
Like an automaton, Arden stepped into the bathroom and closed the door. She stripped her armor off, then her clothes. She turned on the shower and stepped under the hot spray, lifting her face up to the water.
Then the tears fell.
She didn’t make a sound, just let the tears flow quietly down her face. She stayed there until she felt the water start to cool.
She finally shut off the shower, dried herself, and wrapped the towel around her body. She saw Indy had snuck in and left some clean clothes resting on the edge of the bath tub. A long, flowing skirt in a deep navy blue, and a simple white top.
Too tired and heartsick to care what she wore, Arden slipped the clothes on. When she entered her main quarters, Indy was making toast and tea in the kitchenette.
“Here.” Indy set a plate and mug down on the table.
Arden sat in a chair and stared at the food. She wasn’t hungry.
“You okay?” Indy asked.
Arden tried to fight off the despair eating at her insides. She grabbed her friend’s hand. “There were dead children, Indy.”
“I know.” A soft whisper.
“That woman, Alyssa…she’s me.”
“She’s not you, but you understand what she’s going through.”
“I’m not all right.” Arden blew out a breath. “But I will be, eventually.”
Indy squeezed her hand. “You are one of the strongest people I know.”
Arden gave a choked laugh. “Me?”
“You. You survived the worst of circumstances, but now, you’ve found your way to honor those you loved. To remember them, and remember that you’re still alive.”
“Thanks, Indy.”
“Of course.” Her friend’s gorgeous eyes flashed. “Friends take care of friends.”
“Not just for that.” Arden tucked a strand of damp hair back. “For being my friend. For pushing closer when I tried to hold you back.”
Indy tilted her head. “You’re quieter in general, and you were grieving, I knew that. I liked you anyway.”
And Indy was bold, a force of nature. She’d kept pushing until Arden had no choice but to let go of the gray and embrace Indy’s color.
“I love you,” Arden said.
Indy hugged her. “Right back at you, babe.”
Arden sat up straighter. “Now, go be with your guy.” Griff would be champing at the bit to get
