I found myself at a crossroads.
I sensed deep in the pit of my stomach this was a decision that would shape the course of all future events.
I also knew there was no way for me to fully grasp the paths they might lead to.
Both led down roads cloaked in darkness and would only become clear as I traversed them.
Did I choose to go with Kayal or the M’rora?
But no, there was a third option.
I could run.
If what Kayal said was true, I needed to escape the M’rora’s clutches for five days.
Only then would I be free.
But I had seen the effect of our weapons on Kayal.
Did I really think the outcome would be any different with the M’rora?
No human force could keep me safe.
Not for five days, five hours, or five minutes.
I was trapped between two aliens, faced with the same question I’d wrestled with my entire life:
Who do I trust?
Both of them?
Not when their “truth” was at loggerheads.
One was lying, the other telling the truth.
Or maybe they were both lying and this was some kind of twisted game.
It was then I knew my answer.
“Better the devil you know than the one you don’t.”
I placed myself between Kayal and the M’rora, protecting him with my body.
If any of what Kayal had told me were true, killing me was the last thing the M’rora would do.
I helped him take those steps up the ramp.
“No! Don’t!” the M’rora said. “You’re making a terrible mistake!”
Maybe he was right, but it was too late now.
The steps hissed as they ascended and locked into place, cloaking us in darkness.
A moment later, harsh lights filled the ship’s interior.
I didn’t know if my decision was right or wrong.
I only knew that once it was made, you rarely got to make it a second time.
“Computer. Get us out of here.”
Kayal’s voice was little more than a whisper.
His body was racked with sweat and so hot I thought he might burst into flames.
I felt the powerful thrust of the engines as we ascended into the sky.
The ship shuddered and Kayal stumbled to one side.
He braced himself on the wall with a powerful arm.
I slipped under his shoulder and helped lead him down the winding corridor.
“This way,” he said.
No blood ran from his body but the light that struck him had burned a hole clear through his chest, cauterizing the wound upon impact.
So here I was, in the belly of an advanced spacefaring vessel, leading an injured alien creature who less than an hour ago, I had been intent on escaping with every fiber of my being.
I couldn’t think about that right now.
It was beyond comprehension.
I focused on the only thing I had any control over:
Getting Kayal medical help.
He took one step after another and ensured to lean the majority of his weight against the walls.
I began to wonder why there was no one else on board to help us when we came to the medical bay.
It was sleek and clean the way I thought it would be.
It was divided into four rooms, each with a reclining bed at its center.
“The chair,” Kayal muttered.
We stumbled over to it.
He fell into it and hissed through his teeth.
I stepped back as half a dozen robotic arms descended from the ceiling toward him.
Two scanned him and another injected him.
Less than ten seconds later, his head lolled to one side, resting on his shoulder.
I backed away and let the arms do their thing.
I’d always been the squeamish sort.
I suddenly felt exhausted, the events of the past few hours hitting me at the same time.
There hadn’t been a single moment of calm stillness and now it encroached on me, making the silence deafening.
I caught movement out the corner of my eye, something floating past like a ship leaving the harbor.
Except the object wasn’t the thing leaving.
I was.
I peered out the window.
The Earth’s atmosphere shrank, turning to the size of a giant marble of mixed greens and browns, yellows and blues.
A gorgeous portrait.
And as it shrank, so did the hope I carried in my chest that I might be able to escape this.
Isabella had been right about one thing.
My life was going to change the moment I met that gorgeous hunk in the coffee shop.
I doubted my life would ever be the same again.
Kayal
The pain was excruciating.
I’d suffered injuries before, of course.
Every Shadow who went through the grueling military training had.
Pain was nothing new.
It had become a part of my existence.
I clutched a hand to my chest, not for the pain, but for that breast pocket.
That fragile little item that had been with me for as long as I could remember.
My life before joining the Shadow was a blur and I could barely recall it.
It may as well have not existed.
Except, it did exist—in the cracks of deep sleep when I had no defenses to fight off the memories.
I was there now, floating in that sweet abyss after Computer had pumped me full of pain meds.
Those early five years of childhood visited me.
They were nothing like my later years as I was systematically broken down and rebuilt into a weapon to fight foreign empires.
A forgotten memory slipped into my consciousness.
I was at a birthday party—mine, I thought, considering all the attention I was getting.
I must have been four, possibly five years of age.
We sat around a campfire and my parents had invited the neighbors round.
There was a warm and festive spirit.
I wore a crown of wood my father had whittled.
I sat at the head of the table and unwrapped my presents.
They were small handmade toys mostly.
My friends were there.
Friends.
We played hide and seek and chased a baby piglet across the farm and into the long grass.
I didn’t catch it but it didn’t matter.
The gift was the second-largest slice of birthday cake—after mine.
I ate the soft cake and it melted on my tongue.
The icing was cool and I sucked it until it disappeared.
I peered around the table and was filled with the greatest sense of happiness I had ever experienced.
My eyes met
