Jàden had no one to keep her safe now.

The darkness receded from her head. Her thoughts zeroed in on the last few moments she’d witnessed and the hint of fear in Kale’s eyes.

“He’s still alive.” She held no doubts about her whispered solace as she groaned at the ache in her neck. Kale had always been her protector, from the first time they’d seen one another as children to the moment he found her bleeding to death.

It had been years since that day. Even then, Adina Blàke had wanted to cut her open and figure out why she possessed such a rare and unique power.

Kale’s voice had been her first lifeline, its soothing baritone the only thing that kept her going. Since that day, he’d been her rock. Her protection.

Her safe space.

Jàden cracked open her eyes. Bright light illuminated white tile.

“Kale?” The words dripped sluggishly from her lips as the last of the drug clung to her senses. She reached toward the Flame in case she had to use it again, but something else hummed in its place. The soft buzz of an electrified barrier holding back the Flame’s energy. At least it didn’t sting.

She tried pressing against it with her mind, pushing to break the electrical circuit, but it only sparked a headache.

Fine by her. She’d always wanted a life without the energy’s touch. Then she wouldn’t have to be afraid anymore of what the future would hold. Those who tested her under General Blàke believed it was a limitless energy source, and its power was only contained by her fear of it. Jàden secretly hoped she would never stop fearing the Flame.

She rolled to her knees, fighting off a wave of dizziness as she scanned her surroundings. She was imprisoned in a glass cylinder that sat atop a pedestal of control panels. Large pipes stretched from the ground toward the ceiling across the room. Nothing looked familiar, though it reminded her of Hàlon’s recreational holodecks.

Jàden stood and pressed a hand to the barrier. “Hello? Anyone there?”

She walked the span of her enclosure—eight steps across—in search of a door. There must be one somewhere, or a switch to raise the glass.

As she searched for a way out, her mind circled back to the events leading up to this moment. None of Frank’s behaviors made sense. He hated her and disliked his son, but he loved power and control. So why take her anywhere? Was this about re-establishing power over Kale?

No, she was asking the wrong questions. Her focus should be on how to get out of here and back to Kale.

Jàden took a slow breath to try to focus.

Walls rose on all sides of the room, blast shield panels with the ability to shift from black to gray to transparent glass. The same material Hàlon used for its inner and outer hulls. Its strength kept a starship intact, and its ability to be used as both shield and screen monitors made it the root of all Hàlon’s technology.

The cold matte stretched far above her head. If the Enforcers snagged her from Frank, then someone would check on her. What they planned after that she didn’t know, but the fact that she was still alive gave Jàden hope.

Like her, Kale should wake up soon, then he would come for her. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t try to find a way out on her own. She dropped to her knees and circled the cage with her fingers pressed against the seams, crossing her fingers someone had patched up Kale’s wounds. Not even dust collected along the plexiglass arc of her cage, which meant someone kept it pristine.

A shield pane on the far wall cleared to screen transparency and vitals flashed next to her image. It had to mean someone was coming. Jàden leapt to her feet and pounded on the glass. “Hey! Let me out of here.”

The second screen lit up with the neural pathways of her brain, both physical and theric readings. She’d seen them before on her own scans and those of the horses her grandfather bred.

If someone was monitoring her vitals, it meant they wanted her alive. Which didn’t make sense. Guild Command and Enforcers had issued the order for her death weeks ago.

The door to the outer room slid open.

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A clean-cut man with brown hair strode in, a slender gray data pad in his hand. He barely glanced at her as he spoke into the thin headset over his ear.

“Subject awake and alert.” He stepped to the controls and inserted the thin tablet into the side.

“I don’t believe it,” she muttered. “I thought you were dead.”

Dr. Dàren Bradshaw, a Guild surgeon with a specialization in biotheric energy manipulation and xenomicrothericology. His theories about human enhancements were of great interest to Hàlon’s scientists until they found the victims of his experiments: humans and animals, tortured to the point of madness. He’d been blackballed from the Guilds and transplanted to the core of the moon, where he could experiment to his delight on the squid-like creatures.

The last time Jàden had laid eyes on him, one of those creatures had dug a hole in his spine. “How are you alive?”

More importantly, how did he escape the core? Jàden hesitated, an uneasy twist in the pit of her gut. She craned her neck to see his console, a sequence of data too small to read from her angle.

“Doctor Bradshaw.” She slapped the glass to get his attention. “Please let me out. There’s been a mistake.”

“Initiate preliminary test for lung capacity.” Bradshaw tapped against his console as he spoke in a monotone, clinical voice.

He’d ignored her. Was her containment soundproof? She smacked harder, then waved her arms. “Hey! Doc—”

Cold water rushed into the tube from around the top edges. Jàden gasped as it sent a shock through her skin. Water bubbled along the bottom of the cylinder through small seams in the floor, rushing in so fast it surged to her shins in seconds. “What are you doing?”

Bradshaw tapped the thin headset over his ear. “Day one. Subject appears healthy. Vitals all within range.”

“No, stop this. Let me out!” Jàden threw herself against the glass. She had to find Kale and get to their ship. She pounded the barrier with her fists, then slammed her shoulder against it.

“Bradshaw!” The water bubbled around her waist, then her shoulders. She trudged to each end of her cylindrical enclosure to search for a weakness. A crack. Anything that would stop the liquid before it reached her mouth.

The water surged upward, pushing her toward the ceiling. “Somebody help me!”

She clawed the barrier until she grasped the grated metal at the top of the cage. Jàden pulled her mouth to a hole in the grate as the water passed her ears, then lapped against her nose.

Please, I don’t want to die.

Thoughts of Kale flashed through her mind. An old memory flooded in from the first night she’d made love with Kale, his husky voice a gentle comfort. “I’ll always protect you.”

Jàden sobbed and shut her eyes tight, waiting for the water to surge over her mouth and steal the last of her breath.

She clung to the idea that Kale would save her any moment.

Water lapped against her mouth but didn’t rise any higher. She gasped for every sweet breath between sobs.

“Please,” she whispered through the grate.

Time stretched into agonizing seconds. Jàden tried to hold out hope as her fingers stiffened. Her teeth chattered and the cold water chilled her to the bone. It would be just like Bradshaw to keep her alive only to drown her. “Let me out.”

Jàden sensed Sandaris, a wasteland of rock who once wept for death. Its hollow sensation filled her veins, her senses, and ever present was the soft whisper of its heartbeat.

Sandaris breathed, its beating heart a faint echo at the edge of her instincts. Theric energy flowed between them now, a connection forged by the Flame. At least she’d thought so, but as she tried again to reach for the Flame’s power, she was greeted by the buzzing electricity. So how could she sense the moon and not grasp her power?

“S-Somebody help me,” she pleaded through the small opening, her teeth chattering in the cold. She held tight until her muscles burned. Fatigue wrapped her thoughts in a hazy fog. Her numb fingers seized, and she lost her grip.

Jàden sank beneath the surface, sweet whispers of lives long gone swirling around her. Water surged into her lungs. No, she wasn’t ready to die. She kicked toward the top and coughed up spurts of water. The droplets sucked back into her lungs.

She tried to grab on, but her fingers were too stiff to move. Her body slipped further into the abyss, fire in her lungs.

Water rushed out of the cylinder and she crashed to the floor. Pain shot into her shoulder. She rolled onto her knees and coughed until she heaved, white fire burning in her veins. Jàden scratched her arm then froze, the Flame crackling through her.

The walls of her cage were open.

Water spread out across the room. Her brain finally connecting all the pieces, Jàden scrambled toward the opening, grasping onto her power. The white fire surged, and the barrier slammed shut, cutting off the Flame instantly.

“No!” She slammed the glass and pressed her forehead against it, sobbing until her eyes were raw.

Bradshaw leaned back in a chair, feet propped on the console. He tapped the keys on a thin tablet.

She laid a stiff hand against the glass. “Whatever someone’s paying you, I’ll double it.”

Jàden barely had a few credits to her name, but her grandparents owned a cargo bay inside the ship. Not that she could sell it, but Jàden would bargain anything to reclaim her freedom and find Kale.

Almost anything.

Bradshaw yawned and scratched the back of his neck, ignoring her as if she didn’t exist.

“Initiate sensory deprivation cycle, phase one.” He tapped the screen and glanced at the pipe chamber above her head. Lights flickered off around the room, then her cell went dark.

A pale glow from the tablet highlighted Bradshaw’s features.

She pressed her head against the glass. “Please, I’m begging you.”

Bradshaw flipped off the tablet. A moment later, his footsteps echoed into the distance.

“No!” She pounded on the barrier. “Come back. Don’t leave me here!” Jàden shivered in the dark, then rubbed her cheek to wipe away the tears.

“I just need a ship,” she told herself, then stretched out her fingers. Pain lanced through the stiff muscles. “I promise I’ll leave, and no one ever has to see me again.”

She crawled around the edge of her enclosure, not yet willing to give up.

“Hurry, Kale,” she whispered. Before Bradshaw returned. Or worse...Frank.