Page 29 of Bound By Thorns
Zane was hunched over his console amid the usual chaos, wrestling with the network outages still throttling Fort Lauderdale. I approached him, each step heavier than the last. “Zane Cruiser, right?” I asked, attempting to keep my voice light.
He spun around, his chair squeaking slightly, and flashed me one of his disarmingly handsome grins. “What can I do for you, Kaylan?”
I took the offered seat beside him, hesitating a moment before diving in. “I need a favor,” I started, my voice dipping with concern. “My parents—they haven’t been picking up my calls. I’m worried something might be wrong.”
Zane’s easy smile faded into a serious line, his brows knitting together as he nodded. “Of course, I can look into that,” he said, his tone now matching the gravity of my request.
I thanked him with a small, grateful smile and stood to leave. Just then, a woman with short blonde hair and a crisp British accent stopped me in my tracks. “You’re Kaylan Bennett!” she exclaimed, her face brightening.
“The dead woman, yes,” I replied, my voice tinged with a dark humor that didn’t quite reach my eyes.
Her enthusiasm briefly waned, replaced by a more solemn respect. “Kaylan Bennett, the combat medic. A survivor,” she corrected, her words casting a new light on my identity.
I couldn’t help but smile, genuinely this time, touched by her recognition of my role rather than my ordeal. “I’m Delara Booth,” she introduced herself, extending her hand. “Do you want to join me for a pre-dinner drink?”
I glanced at my watch, noting the time. “Isn’t it a bit early for that? It’s only four.”
She laughed, a sound that was both light and inviting. “Never too early for wine, darling.”
Her use of ‘darling’ sent a shiver down my spine, the term echoing too many memories of a past I was desperate to forget. Even though the word came from a woman with a British accent, my heart sank.
Is that how it was going to be now?
Me, losing my mind every time I was reminded of Ravenrock Hall?
My smile faltered, and I felt the room tilt slightly. Delara’s hands were quick to steady me.
“Sorry,” I managed to get out, the word thick in my throat. “Still recovering.”
With a sympathetic nod, she gently guided me to the lounge area. The room was bathed in warm light, with teal walls accented by gold trim. Various clusters of plush black couches were scattered about, and a large dining table sat by the windows overlooking the courtyard. We settled on opposite couches, a small table between us that, to my surprise, she opened to reveal a hidden refrigerator. She pulled out a bottle of chilled white wine just as a young man appeared, carrying a tray with two glasses. He filled our glasses and retreated as quietly as he had arrived.
“So, Kaylan,” Delara began, setting her wine on the table. “What’s on your mind?”
“Alpha Squad Six,” I responded quickly, sidestepping my actual tumult of thoughts. I wasn’t in the mood to unpack the horrors of Ravenrock Hall over a casual drink.
Her eyebrows lifted in interest. “Really? Well, you’re in luck. They’re due back this evening. The whole squad. I’ve missed Logan. We all have.”
Her words caused an unexpected sting. Tears welled up as I realized nobody would have missed me. I’d beendeadlonger, and they’d moved on. Sebastian had even mentioned that Squad Two was disbanded a month ago. Lancaster Brewer and Pedro Becerra had been forced to retire. I was truly alone. Overwhelmed by sadness, I downed my glass in one go.
Delara observed me quietly, her gaze analytical. I felt like a specimen under her microscope, which only heightened my anxiety.
Clearing my throat, I admitted, “Delara, I’m sure you’re nice. But I feel like an animal in a zoo right now.”
She nodded, her expression softening. “I understand. I just want to help. We have an excellent team here, including a psychiatrist. Leora Mateez from Squad Six is actually a psychologist. We’re here if you need us.”
I nodded.
Footsteps echoed across the room, and I turned to see Sebastian approaching with his usual confident stride. There was something about him—the mix of strength and compassion—that was profoundly reassuring.
“Delara, I see you’ve met Kaylan,” he said with a smile, settling next to Delara.
“You couldn’t have kept her hidden even if you tried, Sebastian,” Delara quipped.
“I wasn’t trying to,” he shrugged, his eyes flicking to our drinks. “Ladies, isn’t it a bit—”
“Nope,” Delara cut him off, finishing her drink in one swift gulp.
Sebastian raised both brows, feigning shock. “You know, Delara, there are less aggressive ways to assert dominance over a glass.”
