~Vaulronian Palace - Nadyr's Residence~
Hours blurred.
Kyla drifted between dark and light, fire and numbness.
She felt hands—not cruel, not tender—lifting, rotating, scanning.
She came to once, briefly, inside a room humming with crystal walls. Devices hovered around her body, emitting low harmonic pulses. Her wrist was enclosed in a sleek brace that hissed and released warmth in rhythmic intervals.
A sharp light blinked at the corner of her vision.
A woman—blue-skinned, eyeless, fingers long and jointless—spoke in a musical, clicking language as she passed a wand over Kyla's shoulder.
Then—blackness again.
She woke to pain. And hunger.
This time, in a room less clinical, but still alien.
The bed was wide, covered in silk-thin sheets that clung to her skin. The air was temperate. She tried to sit up, but her vision tunneled.
No food, she realized dizzily.
No energy left.
Her body had gone too long. Even with the bone repair brace still encasing her arm, even with the pulses of heat healing her tissue—there were limits.
She pushed the covers back. Stood.
Tried to walk.
And promptly collapsed.
Nadyr caught her before her head hit the floor.
He had been standing silently in the adjoining room, watching her from the shadows of a starlit archway.
He hadn't moved when the medics administered healing. Hadn't spoken when they asked about pain levels or atmospheric settings.
But now—he moved instantly.
"You are not stable," he said, his voice resonant but not raised.
"Go to hell," she whispered, not even sure he understood.
He lifted her easily, carrying her back to the bed.
Kyla wanted to fight. Her arm twitched. Her jaw tensed.
But she was floating. Spinning. Her stomach turned.
A wave of nausea overcame her—and the world vanished again.
When she next woke, the room had changed.
It was dimmer now. Calmer.
A soft floral scent clung to the air, though no flowers were in sight. A tray had been left on the bedside table—its contents steaming faintly.
Alien food. But not the slime.
This looked... edible. A soft roll-like twist, a glowing citrus-fruit, a warm soup in a pale obsidian bowl.
Her stomach made a sound like thunder.
She devoured the roll first, then the soup—slightly sweet, slightly smoky. Her senses returned slowly. The headache dulled. Her limbs no longer trembled with every breath.
That's when she noticed him again.
Across the room.
Not approaching. Not commanding.
Just standing—still as sculpture, watching her with unreadable focus.
He spoke, but she shook her head. "I don't—understand you."
YOU ARE READING
~ ~ ~Chains of Starlight~ ~ ~
Romance~ ~ ~Chains of Starlight~ ~ ~ An interstellar dark romance of captivity, rebellion, and a love written in the stars. "He bought her body. She took his heart. Together, they'll shatter the stars." Kyla Johnson was just another girl trying to survive...
