The crate was still half-buried in the debris at the rear of the cave.
They dragged it out like it weighed a thousand pounds—not just in steel and alloy, but in implication. In memory. In everything it meant to all of us now.
Kol was the one who suggested using the emergency restraints built into the transport walls.
"You really think those'll hold?" Martinez asked, frowning as he looped one of the magnetic bands through a reinforced panel.
"No," Kol said. "But they'll buy us time if it wakes up on the road."
No one argued.
We used the loading ramp to slide the creature in. Even paralyzed, it twitched—just a little. Muscles jerking like it was fighting in its sleep.
Kade flinched when it moved.
I didn't.
I watched its breathing. Counted the seconds between each breath.
One.
Two.
Three.
Still alive.
Still wrong.
Kol leaned in, jabbed the second dose of the nitrogen mix into the upper spine. The hiss of the injector echoed again.
Then a third—lower, near the base.
The creature didn't react.
Not yet.
When the final seal clicked into place, we all stood back.
The crate pulsed with tension. With silence.
Kade stepped forward and keyed the satellite transmitter. A red light blinked twice, then turned green.
"Message sent," he said. "They'll be waiting."
I should've felt relieved.
I didn't.
Because in the same moment the transmitter lit up—
I lost the bond.
It didn't snap.
It didn't fray.
It just… went quiet.
Nyx froze mid-step inside me.
Wait.
My pulse spiked. "What?"
He's not there.
Nine.
I reached for him instinctively—through that strange, delicate thread that bound us together. The one that had always pulsed like a second heartbeat beneath my ribs.
But now—
Nothing.
Not pain. Not panic.
Just… silence.
"Rhea?" Kol was watching me now. "What's wrong?"
"I—I don't know."
Nyx prowled tight circles in my head. Something's happened.
*Something's wrong.
And suddenly—
The crate didn't feel like the biggest threat anymore.