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Ceara slept soundly, his body still and peaceful.
I found myself watching him, studying the way his chest rose and fell with each breath, the soft rhythmic motion oddly comforting.
The touch of his skin, the firm and heated surface, was etched into my memory.
The tranquility of the moment was shattered as the cell door opened with a grating squeal.
The guards were back, their heavy boots echoing ominously on the metal floor.
I rushed to stand between them and Ceara, my protective instinct kicking in.
“He needs more time,” I argued, planting my feet and squaring my shoulders. “He needs to rest.”
They barely glanced my way, the light glinting off their armored suits as they moved towards Ceara.
Their laughter was like gravel in a blender, a harsh, grating sound that set my teeth on edge.
Despite the medicine and the sleep, Ceara was still weak.
He tried to resist as they hauled him up, his body swaying dangerously.
But he couldn’t match their strength.
He cast a groggy look my way, the barest hint of appreciation in his gaze.
As they dragged him from the room, the chill of dread settled in my chest.
I had done all I could, but it was not enough.
I had to find a way to help him more, to give him the strength to resist.
But for now, all I could do was watch as the cell door slammed shut, the sound echoing in the now-empty room.
* * *
Ceara returned to the cell, a shadow of his former self.
His body swayed, and my stomach knotted as he nearly collapsed to the floor.
This time, however, he allowed me to guide him to his cot.
The touch of his skin against mine sent a jolt of unexpected energy through me.
With a newfound confidence, I turned to the guards who had followed us in. “Leave,” I commanded, my voice steady and firm.
They stared at me, their alien faces unreadable.
For a heart-stopping moment, I thought they might refuse.
Then, with a shared look, they retreated, leaving us alone.
Ceara’s gaze was on me, a soft smirk tugging at his lips. “Feisty little thing, aren’t you?” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that I felt more than heard.
I didn’t respond, but I couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto my face.
The room smelled of antiseptic and iron, the scent strong enough to make my stomach churn. “Where do they take you?” I asked, keeping my eyes trained on his injuries.
He glanced at me, his eyes dark and unreadable. “They experiment on me,” he said simply.
