He raises an eyebrow at me—the warning is for me as well—then he turns on his heel and re-enters the interrogation room.

“Montes!” I yell after him. The door clicks shut; the bastard ignored me.

I stare at the room as I’m dragged away. My world is completely falling apart.

The walls of this place might be thick, but they don’t muffle everything. I’m halfway down the hall when I hear a bang. My body jumps at the sound, and a tear leaks out.

Gone. Will is gone.

The King

I’m getting too soft. That sentiment is running on repeat as my men drag the Resistance leader’s body out of the interrogation room.

I’ve been the master of strategy and power plays since the beginning of my career. I don’t compromise, ever. Yet here I am, watching the cleanup crew wipe up the boy’s spilled blood. I did as Serenity asked—I put the traitor out of his misery. Thanks to listening to my bloody fucking heart instead of my brain, I threw away the opportunity to learn the locations of dozens of Resistance cells.

Deep in my gut, unease pools. Killing him was a mistake, one I can’t correct. And it’s one I might repeat if I become too compassionate. I rub my mouth.

“Your Majesty,” Henry, the lead investigator, enters the room.

“Hmm?” I glance up at him.

“There’s something you need to see, and it concerns the queen.”

“The Resistance recorded the queen’s interrogation,” Henry explains as he leads me to one of the station’s conference rooms.

That horrible rage that I’ve kept in check since we retrieved Serenity now rears its ugly head once more. That anyone would dare harm my wife. No one crosses me and gets away with it.

“Show me the footage.” I know Henry doesn’t miss the flinty edge to my voice.

Henry grabs a remote control sitting on the conference table and points it at the large screen that dominates one of the walls.

A grainy black and white image of a cinderblock cell flickers on. I lean my knuckles heavily on the desk, and I lean forward. My blood pressure rises as several Resistance members drag an unconscious Serenity into the room and dump her onto a cot.

Henry’s time lapsed the footage so that it fast forwards several hours. During all that time, my wife’s form barely moves. The sight of her looking so fragile does something to me.

The tape slows; several seconds later, Serenity’s eyes open. After taking in the room, she sits up. I only have to wait a minute more before the door to her cell opens and William Kline joins her.