Jace Strickland POV

  The battle was over.

  The Borzork had completed their sweep of the island, circling its perimeter with unmatched speed and precision. The last of the attackers had been frozen, locked in place by the Bopro technology. I exhaled, my body still brimming with tension as I reached out toward Algoks.

  How’s it going? I asked through our link.

  The Borzork are finishing their sweep. I think we got them all, but we’re checking every inch of the island to be sure, Algoks responded. We won’t let a single one slip through.

  I nodded, relief mixing with exhaustion. But I needed confirmation. I reached out to Trenal next. Scan the island. If there’s anyone left, we need to know.

  A moment passed before his voice returned, firm and sure. It’s over. Every human attacker has been frozen.

  I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, my grip tightening over my injured shoulder, blood still soaking through my fingers. It burned, a dull and constant throb, but I didn’t care. Gritting my teeth, I yanked off my jacket and then my shirt, balling up the fabric before pressing it against the wound. The pain flared sharply, but I forced myself to wrap the shirt around my shoulder, knotting it tight to slow the bleeding. It wasn’t perfect, but it would hold—for now.

  Because I knew where I needed to be next.

  The pull of our bond was unmistakable, guiding me without thought or hesitation. Thriexa.

  I took off running.

  I didn’t need directions. I could feel her.

  The pull of our bond led me through the settlement, my legs moving before I could even think. My heart pounded as I raced past frozen intruders, past Eova emerging from their hiding places, past everything except the only thing that mattered—her.

  The moment I spotted her, standing on the beach, her freezing weapon still gripped in her hands, my entire body went weightless.

  I crashed into her, pulling her into my arms, my lips finding hers before she could say a word. For a moment, nothing else existed. Just her, just us.

  She gasped against my mouth but didn’t hesitate, her body pressing into mine as if she needed this just as much as I did. I poured everything into that kiss—the fear, the relief, the overwhelming love that had built with every second she had been in danger.

  I didn’t care that we weren’t alone. I didn’t care that Sam was right there, capturing everything on camera. The world could see. Let them.

  All that mattered was that she was safe.

  And I wasn’t letting her go.

  But Thriexa was the one to break the kiss first. Her breath was unsteady, her eyes scanning my face before they dropped to my shoulder. Her fingers hovered just above the wound, hesitation flickering in her expression.

  “Jace, you need to get to a healer,” she said, her voice edged with worry.

  I shook my head, still trying to catch my breath. “I’m fine. I’ve been shot before. It’s not the first time.”

  Thriexa’s eyes widened, shock flashing across her face. “You have?”

  Before she could continue, Trenal’s voice cut through my mind, urgent and unrelenting. Jace, helicopters incoming. Multiple. Philip Hail is aboard one of them.

  I knew that Thriexa could hear Trenal as well. I exhaled sharply, forcing myself to let go of her. “I have to handle this.”

  I pulled out my phone, dialing Philip Hail. The signal barely had time to connect before his voice came through, slightly distorted by the background noise of the helicopters. “Strickland, what’s the situation?”

  “The battle’s over,” I told him bluntly. “The attackers have been neutralized. No casualties on our side, and the Eova upheld their commitment—no humans were killed. Land on the southernmost point of the island.”

  There was a pause before Philip responded, his tone unreadable. “Copy that. We’ll be on the ground shortly.”

  I hung up my phone and took a steadying breath before turning toward the direction of the landing zone. Without a word, I started walking before Thriexa grabbed my hand to stop me.

  Thriexa Aizih POV

  I could feel Jace’s pain—sharp, unrelenting, seeping into me through our bond. I had let him fight, had trusted him to survive, but now that the battle was over, I wouldn’t let him brush this aside.

  I put my foot down. “Tocci, meet Hail when the helicopters land and bring him to the Klaro. We need to make sure this situation is handled properly.”

  Tocci hesitated for a moment, glancing between me and Jace, then gave a short nod. “Fine, but don’t let him argue his way out of this. He looks like hell.”

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  Jace shot her a glare but didn’t protest as I grabbed his arm—his uninjured arm—and started pulling him toward the Klaro. “You’re going to be healed, now. No more arguing.”

  He let out a tired sigh, but I could feel the exhaustion pressing down on him. He was too drained to fight me on this.

  “I’m fine,” he muttered under his breath, but the weakness in his voice made the words meaningless.

  I tightened my grip, guiding him through the settlement. “You’re not. And for once, you’re going to let someone take care of you.”

  As we walked toward the Klaro, Jace’s mind reached out, his focus unwavering despite the pain. Vorak Algoks, he called telepathically, his voice edged with exhaustion but still commanding. Unfreeze all the injured humans and bring them to the Klaro. They need to be treated.

  Even in his wounded state, he was still thinking about them—the very people who had attacked us. The thought sent a warmth through me, admiration settling deep in my chest.

  I squeezed his uninjured arm lightly. “You never stop, do you?”

  He exhaled, shaking his head. “They don’t deserve to die just because they were manipulated into this.”

  Behind us, Sam slowed her pace, watching him carefully before glancing down at her camera. I turned to her. “End the stream. The people have seen enough.”

  She hesitated for a moment, then nodded, clicking a button to stop the live feed. The battle had been broadcasted for the world to see. Now, it was time to focus on healing—for everyone.

  As we entered the Klaro’s healing center, Cholti, the Klaro representative, met us with a sharp glare. “You should have come sooner, Elaron Strickland. This could have worsened.”

  Jace shrugged with his good shoulder, utterly unfazed. “I’ve been through worse. Besides, this body is more resilient than my human one. I’m fine.”

  Cholti narrowed her eyes, clearly unimpressed. “You say that, but you’re still bleeding. Sit.”

  Jace sighed but relented, lowering himself onto one of the healing cots as the Klaro gathered their supplies. I could feel his reluctance through our bond, his discomfort not from the wound but from being forced to sit still. He was still restless, still caught in the adrenaline of battle, but at least he wasn’t trying to argue his way out of treatment.

  The surrounding Klaro looked at each other, baffled. “Are all humans like this?” one of them asked in confusion.

  Henry, who had been nearby overseeing the wounded, let out a laugh. “No, that’s just Jace. Last time he got shot, he still managed to disarm and arrest the guy. He didn’t even go to the hospital until hours later.”

  Cholti pulls his shirt away from the wound, “The bullet is still inside. We need to remove it before we can heal you. I can give you something to numb the pain before we begin, if you’d prefer.”

  Jace winced as they applied pressure to the wound, sending a fresh jolt of pain through his body. “Just take it out.”

  Cholti gave him a disapproving look before turning to retrieve a surgical tool. “Hold still. This will hurt.”

  Jace exhaled sharply, his muscles tensing as he braced for what was coming. The sharp, burning sensation as the bullet was extracted sent a fresh wave of agony radiating through his arm, but he barely made a sound, only a low grunt of discomfort. I grabbed his uninjured hand without thinking, gripping it tightly. The moment our skin touched, his pain surged through our bond, raw and unfiltered. I flinched, but I didn’t let go.

  He turned his head slightly, his gaze meeting mine, a flicker of something unreadable in his expression. I could feel his discomfort, the exhaustion weighing on him, but most of all, the stubborn determination that had always defined him. He didn’t want me to worry. But I did.

  “You’re ridiculous,” I muttered, my fingers tightening around his. He huffed out a breath that might have been a laugh if he wasn’t in so much pain.

  “You know, you could at least pretend this hurts,” Sam commented dryly, watching the process unfold. “Most people would be screaming.”

  Jace let out a strained chuckle, his breath still uneven. “It does hurt. I’m just good at ignoring it.”

  Once the bullet was free, Cholti immediately pressed a glowing crystal to his wound, warmth spreading through the injury as the pain began to ease. “Now, we can heal you properly. Next time, don’t wait this long.”

  Jace smirked, but didn’t argue. “Yeah, yeah. No promises.”

  Sam, despite having turned off the livestream, continued taking photos, capturing the Klaro as they healed the wounded—both Eova and the humans who had attacked us. The Borzork stood nearby, their watchful eyes scanning the room, ensuring none of the freed attackers attempted anything reckless. Their presence alone was a warning, their sheer size and strength an unspoken reminder that there would be no second chances for those who tried to fight again.

  The humans who had been frozen were slowly regaining movement, their muscles stiff as they stumbled forward, some looking around in confusion while others were filled with frustration. Their gazes lingering on the Klaro, who treated their wounds without hesitation. Some of the attackers wore expressions of shame, while others still held onto their hatred, their narrowed eyes flicking toward the Eova even as their injuries were soothed by the healing crystals.

  Sam focused her camera on one particular moment—a wounded human staring at his own hands, as if questioning everything he had fought for. She captured the uncertainty in his eyes, the silent war taking place within him. “People need to see this,” she murmured, adjusting the lens. “They need to know that even after everything, the Eova are still choosing to heal rather than hurt.”

  One of the Klaro moved toward a wounded human, carefully kneeling beside him and pressing a glowing crystal to his chest. The human flinched at first but then let out a breath as the warmth seeped into his body, visibly soothing his injuries. “Why are you helping me?” he asked, his voice hoarse with disbelief.

  The Klaro healer didn’t pause. “Because you need it.”

  Henry watched the scene unfold, his expression unreadable. “They don’t expect kindness from you,” he said quietly, his gaze flicking toward me.

  I met his eyes, understanding what he meant. “We give it anyway.”

  As the last of the attackers were fully unfrozen and restrained, Philip Hail finally entered the healing center, his sharp gaze assessing the damage. His suit was slightly disheveled from the helicopter ride, and the deep lines on his face made it clear he hadn’t stopped moving since he received the call.

  His eyes landed on Jace, still sitting with the Klaro, and he exhaled in exasperation. “Of course you’re the one injured.”

  Jace smirked. “Good to see you too, Hail.”

  Philip shook his head but didn’t argue. Instead, he turned to me. “We’ll take all the arrested attackers into federal custody. They won’t be a problem anymore.”

  “And what about the others?” I asked. “The ones who were misled into attacking us? Not all of them were leaders in this movement. Some of them were just followers.”

  Philip’s expression tightened. “We’ll investigate. The worst offenders will be prosecuted. But I’ll be honest with you—there are still people out there who hate what you are, what you represent. This won’t be the last time someone tries something.”

  I already knew that. We all did. But today, we had proven that the Eova would not be forced away.

  Jace stood slowly, rolling his shoulder experimentally. “If they come back, we’ll be ready.”

  I reached for his hand, squeezing it lightly, feeling the reassurance in his grip. “We always will be.”

  The battle was done, but there was still work to do. And none of us were going anywhere.