Chapter 14

  "Slow down, Commander," Bulk muttered, huffing behind the pregnant woman striding ahead of him.

  Rivera didn’t even glance back as she said; “Pick up the pace. We have a guest.”

  Bulk groaned as he did his best to keep up. “Funny, you calling him a guest. Weren’t you the one who wanted him dead?”

  “I had a change of heart,” she said casually, brushing a lock of dark hair from her face.

  "A change of heart?" Bulk echoed pulling his finger out of his ear.

  “It was hard to watch a kid get tortured. Even if it was just the body of a child.”

  “Except for that Ansel. He’s a madman." Bulk added, and almost instantly he could feel his bones grow several times heavier.

  Rivera’s terrifying ruby eyes were locked onto him, pressing him down with deadly intent.

  "Fine fine. He's no madman."

  It was only then the commander let him breathe again, carrying on with a pleasant smile like nothing even happened.

  Bulk snorted. “So now the boy’s useful?”

  “Yes.” Her voice was firm. “Ansel’s already neutralized whatever threat he posed. And I realized... he’s more valuable alive.”

  Bulk’s voice lowered, almost a growl. “If he’s going to be useful, he needs to stop resisting Ansel’s probing.”

  Rivera sighed. Her hand drifted toward her belly, cradling it protectively. “I know. That’s why I’m talking to him. I want to see if I can convince him to join us.”

  “Ansel already tried, and failed... unsurprisingly,” Bulk said, then stopped. His lips pressed into a thin line. Knowing Ansel, it mustn't have been a heartfelt invitation. No wonder the boy didn’t bite.

  Rivera heard the shift in his tone and responded softly. “Exactly. Annie is good for many things... children isn't one of them."

  Bulk’s breath hung in his throat. It was obvious he was comfortable with her last statement but he didn't say anything in response. Like always throttling right behind his commander.

  "I read his file. The little we could scrape up… What they did to him, it’s terrible. I just hope I can get to him.”

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  She slowed as they entered a wide hallway that opened into a canteen. Dozens of soldiers moved casually between tables, chatting over trays of steaming food. As Rivera passed, conversations paused. One by one, heads dipped in quiet respect.

  At the centre of the room, a seat was waiting for her—and seated across from it, hunched slightly with long hair falling over his eyes, was the boy.

  Gabriel.

  Even through the curtain of hair, his gaze cut straight into her—stubborn, wary, confused. She approached slowly and lowered herself into the seat across from him. Bulk stood behind her like a silent wall of muscle.

  “I’m Commander Rivera,” she began after a beat. “The man behind me is Bulk. I recall you've met.”

  Gabriel didn’t respond. His stare only barely drifting to Bulk before returning to her.

  Rivera looked at the table. “You haven’t ordered anything.”

  Silence.

  She shifted slightly. “Fine then... I’m not going to waste your time. I’ll be honest. I wanted you dead.”

  Bulk flinched behind her, but she kept her voice even.

  “There was no telling what you were capable of. I have soldiers with families. People to protect. I was scared. And I acted out of that fear. I’m… sorry. For that. And for everything Ansel did to you after.”

  For the first time, Gabriel’s expression softened. Barely. A twitch of the brow. Then, just as quickly, it hardened again.

  “At the time?” he said quietly. “So what changed?”

  Rivera exhaled through her nose. “I’m still scared. I always am. That’s why I’ll do anything to keep this place safe.” Her hand rested on her stomach again, gently caressing it as she spoke; “I believe we can find common ground. Ansel has you restrained in every way that matters. There’s no need for shackles anymore. You’re a risk—but one I’m willing to take.”

  Gabriel’s eyes closed, just for a moment. When they opened again, there was a fire in them—quiet and bitter.

  “I woke up in a bottle,” he said, voice low. “Escaped. Was shot at. Captured. Tortured. I did nothing to deserve it. Nothing. You people had no reason to fear me so entirely.”

  Then, his jaw clenched. “But now... now you do.”

  Bulk took a step forward, posture tightening like a loaded spring.

  Rivera raised a hand without looking. “Bulk.”

  And the large man froze.

  She turned back to Gabriel. “There’s nothing you could do that I couldn’t stop. Even pregnant.”

  Gabriel let his eyes linger off her for a bit, taking in the scenery. The canteen was filled with all sorts of people. Men, women, young and old. The majority of them were dressed in simple civilian clothing.

  It wasn't long before his gaze returned to her. Following it was a small, sharp laugh that echoed throughout the hall. “Is that why you had the room stuffed with soldiers? All armed. All watching. Ready to take my head off if I so much as blinked the wrong way?”

  Rivera smiled faintly. Then she raised a finger—and snapped.

  The clatter of trays. The laughter. The hum of voices. All vanished.

  Dozens of eyes turned, in eerie unison, to Gabriel.

  He didn’t flinch. His eyes still locked on Rivera’s. Not angry anymore... No, he was calculating. Measuring. Weighing every move.

  At least that was what Rivera imagined was running through his head. Fight. Flight. Kill. Escape. It's what would have been in hers if their roles were reversed.

  “Everyone out,” she said.

  Bulk hesitated. “Commander—”

  “I said out.”

  With a grunt and a glare toward Gabriel, Bulk followed the others. Within seconds, the canteen was silent. Empty.

  Only the two of them remained.

  Rivera leaned back slowly in her chair, her hands folded calmly across her stomach.

  “You sure don't disappoint,” she said, voice cool and quiet. “Okay Ghost, let's have a talk shall we?”