Page 16 of Fated to the Dragon Alien
Cerani looked away, back at her tools.
But this time, she couldn’t bring herself to shut him out. Not when her chest burned with a feeling she hadn’t had in a long time—like maybe someone saw her. Not as a worker, not as a number, but just…her.
She sat in the dirt, crystal dust sticking to her glove seams, and stared at the jagged wall instead of him. “You keep coming down here,” she said. “Why?”
Stavian took a step closer. “Because I need to see it. Up close. What they’re doing to you. To all of you.”
“So you admit it’s wrong.”
His shoulders rose with a breath. “It’s worse than wrong. I’ve spent cycles writing perfect reports and pretending everything down here is running the way it should. But it’s not.” His eyes locked on hers. “And I’ve known that longer than I’ll say out loud.”
Cerani sat still, but her heart kicked against her ribs. “Then why stay?” she asked. “Why wear that badge if you know?”
“Because I don’t know where to start without losing everything and causing even more harm,” he said. “Rules are what I was raised to follow. Order, performance, control. That’s what the Axis want—and that’s what I’ve done. But…” His voice dropped, almost like saying it hurt, “None of it matters if people are dying and I’m doing nothing but watching.”
Her gaze moved over him and she allowed herself to acknowledge his posture, the tension beneath his careful tone, the way his hands slowly curled and uncurled. The dark fringe of lashes around solemn gray eyes that she could so easily get lost in.
“I wasn’t supposed to connect with any of this,” he said. “Not the miners, not the system we’re breaking every day just to survive. And definitely not you.”
That last part came out rougher than the rest. Cerani swallowed hard. “You don’t even know me,” she whispered.
“I feel like I do,” he said steadily. “Enough to wish I could take you out of this.”
Fek, her chest squeezed at his words. “You can’t.”
He looked down at her gloved fingers and his own flexed, as if he were holding back from taking her hands in his. “But I can do something. A small thing.”
She frowned. “What kind of something?”
“I can teach you to read. If you want.”
Cerani blinked. The words hit her harder than she expected. Harder than when he said he wanted to protect her. She wasn’t ready to believe that—it felt too fragile. Too dangerous.
But this? This was something real. Something small and just for her. A choice she got to make. A piece of something she’d always been denied.
She nodded, once. “I would like to learn.”
His eyes didn’t soften, but the line of his shoulders shifted like some weight dropped off him. “Then you will. I’ll teach you in person, when we can. Short sessions. During your breaks.”
Cerani looked down at her boots. “We have five shared security cams in the lower break halls. You know that, right? If the mechs flag me—if they think I’m getting special treatment—they’ll take me somewhere else. Maybe terminate my placement completely. If anyone sees me with you—”
“I won’t let that happen,” he cut in gently.
“You can’t promise that.”
“Yes, I can,” he said, his chin lifting a little. “I am the controller of this mine.”
Cerani studied him. She didn’t trust easily. Never had. But right now, in the flickering light of a half-stable shaft, something settled snug and unshakable in her chest.
“What are we doing?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he said in a whisper that sounded like a growl. “But I want to keep seeing you.”
Her stomach turned sideways as he said it—like it couldn’t decide if it wanted to clench or float. Maybe he didn’t mean anything personal by it. Maybe this was just about information, or control, or curiosity. But maybe it wasn’t.
Either way, it was too late. She was already caught in whatever this was. Not because he was the controller. Not because he had power over her. But because when he looked at her, she didn’t feel like one more body in gray. She felt different. And maybe that was a different kind of dangerous.
“Teach me then.” She didn’t smile, but her chest pulled in a little easier. She stood, brushed the dust from her knees and leaned closer. “But we do this without anyone knowing. And if I get even a hint that you’re lying—”
