experiments? I’m such an idiot! I knew he couldn’t be trusted!
I double over as if to heave, but nothing comes out.
“Come, Kailani,” the commander says.
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I snap at the male who addressed me, heart hammering. I carefully place Whimmie on a seat and prepare to fight. I glance around for my med kit—it’s across the bay, too far to reach. “Let. Khrys. Go.”
“Khrys must answer for his actions, but I expect he will be released. Especially if our medical team finds you to be as useful as we hope.”
We hope?
Medical team?
“No.” I crouch in a fighting stance. “No medical team is touching me. I didn’t agree to this.”
The commander’s brows dip, but he doesn’t look angry. More confused. “No harm will come to you, Kailani. Did Khrys not speak to you about this? We have a critical need for your cells to fight the Z4-A virus that’s infected our young human population.”
The epidemic. That’s what Khrys was trying to tell me.
But the asshole never said anything about using me—using my cells—to cure it. How could he? Did he actually use me as a pawn to buy his own freedom for his mistakes on Zandia?
Pain rips through my heart, equal to the anger.
I leap in an attack, kicking the commander and nearly capturing the sword at his waist. In a flash and flurry of movement, the powerful Zandian warriors have me subdued, howling with rage.
“Take her to the med bay,” the commander says. “Bayla can calm her down there.”
“I won’t go anywhere!” I scream, writhing and twisting in their grasp, but I can’t get free. They drag me off the ship. “Let me go!”
“Dr. Daneth,” I hear the commander speak in clipped tones. “The patient is uncooperative. We’re going to need a sedative, so she doesn’t hurt herself.”
In the distance, I see Khrys turn from where he’s being escorted away. “Kailani!” He sounds alarmed. “Let her go!” He breaks free and sprints toward us, but moments later, he’s tackled to the ground.
“Veck you, Khrys,” I scream at him, using his curse word. “You sold me out! I hate you! I will never forgive you for this!”
When he’s hauled to his feet, he doesn’t make another attempt to break free, but he won’t let them drag him away, either. He stands, watching me kick and fight, anguish marring his usual impassive face.
“No med bay, no med bay,” I chant as they propel me forward. No one has hurt me, but I can’t seem to free myself from their restraint.
“They have to ensure you’re healthy,” one of them says.
“And isolate you for your own protection prior to your donation,” says another. “The doctor needs to keep you in a sterile environment before any surgical procedures.”
“The medical team is eager to extract your cells. Your gift may be the answer they’ve been looking for.”
Tears prick my eyes. No more experiments. No more surgeries.
Somehow it all seems so much worse now that I had a taste of freedom. I believed it was over. That I’d see waterfalls and be in charge of my own medicine.
But I’m not going to be free. I’m right back in captivity, a breathing lump of flesh owned by others, subject to their whims and desires.
I make another attempt at freedom, fighting the two Zandians holding me until I end up on the ground with one sitting on top of me.
“Get off her, or I’ll cut your vecking head off,” a furious Khrys roars. He holds a sword to the throat of the Zandian on top of me. Gabin, the warrior who’d held him before, stands at his back, as if willing to allow his intervention.
The guard slowly eases back. “I’m just following orders, Captain. I tried not to hurt her.”
“I’m not hurt,” I bite out, fury making it impossible to feel anything else.
“Talk to her,” Gabin advises. “See if you can calm her down.”
“Kailani—I’m sorry. I should have discussed it before we landed. We have young here who are sick. Your body holds the key to helping them survive.” His voice is full of supplication. “We just need some blood and bone marrow tissue—”
I slap his face as hard as I can.
He betrayed me. He fucking betrayed me.
My breath comes faster and in odd short bursts. Black and yellow static swirl in front of my eyes.
“They won’t hurt you. They just need some samples. After that—”
“No,” I whisper, backing up. “No samples. I can’t. You know I can’t!” I crouch down and vomit.
“Take her now,”