The Space Empress He Craved

Chapter 32

POV: Lyra

Voices. Distant. Floating through the fog of recovery sleep.

Orion insisted on summoning his personal medical specialist to examine me. Through the haze, I sensed his debate—not wanting to risk my anger when I woke, he decided against taking me to his private residence and instead had the specialist come to my quarters in the guest sector. The guard I'd mentioned—Benjamin—was there. Even through my unconscious state, I could feel his distress as he saw me limp in Orion's arms. The sound of his knee hitting deck plating echoed in my semiconscious mind.

"I apologize for not transmitting sooner, Your Eminence." Benjamin's voice, heavy with remorse.

"Stand, Benjamin. Our Empress is fine. She just needs recovery. You did everything within your capacity to inform me of her location. Thank you."

The Emperor thanking a guard? That's... unprecedented.

Benjamin's shock radiated through the psychic atmosphere. Even unconscious, I could feel him slowly processing what he'd heard before standing.

I didn't surface from deep recovery even when Hale and Felicity came to cleanse me with sonic waves and change my bio-suit. Their gentle hands and worried thoughts brushed against my consciousness like whispers. After they finished, Orion's presence remained constant beside me, his anxiety a palpable weight in the air while he waited for his specialist.

The medical specialist, Dr. Yeil, arrived shortly. His scanner hummed over my body, reading my biological signatures. When finished, he told Orion I was functional, just needed several more hours of deep recovery sleep. Then Orion asked something that made my subconscious pay attention—something about plasma toxin in my bloodstream.

The doctor's bewilderment was tangible. "Your Eminence, I assure you, there's no plasma toxin in the Empress's system. In fact, readings indicate no toxin entered her system at all."

Orion argued in hushed tones—probably trying not to wake me. "Impossible. I saw the blade myself. It was clearly coated with Rogue plasma toxin. The blade was extracted from her lateral torso."

Oh. That. They don't know about my resistance.

Dr. Yeil's confusion deepened. I heard him mutter, "Strange. Hmm..." Then to Orion: "If you permit, Your Eminence, I'll extract a blood sample for detailed analysis."

"Please, proceed." No hesitation in Orion's voice. His desperation for my wellbeing leaked through our new neural link.

After Yeil took the sample and left, Orion moved to the refresher station to contact Juan privately.

"I should mention something, Your Eminence." Juan's voice carried caution even through the comm device.

"Please." Orion encouraged.

"Lyra has always been more... resistant to plasma toxins. When we were younglings and didn't know better, we played a game with other station children involving toxin samples. The game was seeing who lasted longest as we absorbed diluted plasma toxin we'd found in a crashed Rogue vessel, drop by drop. When everyone else collapsed, Lyra went to get the adults, thinking she'd won. When they discovered what we'd done, they rushed us to med-bay for emergency detox. We were all in critical care for a week. All except Lyra. The specialists couldn't find any toxin in her system. Her parents were so worried they had her blood analyzed three times. Same results."

That stupid game. Juan always brings it up like it's impressive instead of insane.

Orion's frustration was palpable even from where I lay. I could practically hear him restraining himself from lecturing about our childhood stupidity. Finally: "Are her parents similarly resistant?"

"No. They were both terminated by hunters using plasma blades."

And there it is. The conversation I never wanted to have.

Only then did Orion realize he knew nothing about my family history. His guilt rippled through our neural link—claiming to love me but not knowing I was an orphan.

His embarrassment was obvious when he asked, "Does she have siblings?"

"No, which explains our closeness. Neither of us have siblings. After her parents were terminated, my parents took Lyra in. We'd always been inseparable."

They saved me. Gave me a family when the universe took mine.

"I see. I'll notify you when she wakes, Juan. You should rest."

Juan's sad chuckle carried through the comm. "She's been my sister since memory begins, but I didn't protect her, Your Eminence. She never failed to watch over me, my partner, and our station as friend and as Specialist. This one time she needed me, I failed. I won't achieve rest until she wakes."

Orion's understanding was tangible. "I've only known her two days but..." His frustrated sigh. "I've failed her just as badly, worse even. I can't believe I said those things back there."

His voice cracked—was the Emperor about to cry?—as he fought back emotion, remembering what I'd called him. Selfish. Inconsiderate. Self-entitled.

I meant every word. But hearing him like this...

He swallowed audibly before continuing with broken voice: "I have to make amends."

"Your actions afterward showed you were just worried about your match, Your Eminence. She'll come to see that." Juan's sincerity rang true.

Orion sighed again. "Do you know she refused recovery because she thought I'd punish the alliance members? I mean..." The sound of his fist hitting the wall made me want to flinch. "She must think I'm a monster."

Not a monster. Just... unpredictable. Dangerous when angry.

Juan chuckled. "Respectfully, Your Eminence, Lyra wouldn't have slept peacefully in your arms if she thought you were a monster. She was angry, yes. But none of us would say she hates you. We know her. She wouldn't have let you hold or touch her if she thought you were, as you say, a monster."

Juan knows me too well. Damn him.

Orion clarified, "I'm not going to do anything to any of you. If anything, I owe the alliance unquantifiable gratitude for your sacrifices."

Juan replied casually, "Yeah, we heard everything on transport when you spoke to her. Commander Zelena was stellar pissed [extremely angry] when she heard Lyra refused rest because of worry for us. She used every curse in her vocabulary in our commanders' neural network. Even Zeke was too afraid to stop her, despite being her match."

Orion's chuckle resonated. "At least someone shared my frustration."

"And I share your guilt, Your Eminence. You're not alone either way." Another chuckle, then seriously: "Thank you for staying with her, for caring for her, Your Eminence."

"No need for thanks, Juan. I'm here for purely selfish reasons. I just wanted to be with her." Orion admitted without shame.

Selfish but honest. That's... something.

"I won't keep you. I'll await your transmission."

"I'll contact you immediately when she wakes. Take care, Juan."

The comm ended. Orion returned, settling on the support frame beside my sleep platform. His lips pressed against my forehead—deep, lingering. His whisper: "Please be okay." His fingers interlaced with mine before he opened a neural link with Christian.

Through the link bleeding into our connection, I sensed Christian had secured the Rogue Lyrokan in a containment cell. Still unconscious, thankfully. Medical team confirmed he wasn't terminated, would reactivate by tomorrow's mid-cycle. Nothing to worry about until then. Christian had delivered the promised damage before boarding transport.

Good. Let him suffer like he made those specialists suffer.

'What happened to her was just... unfair. Wasn't even balanced combat.' Christian complained through the link.

'Yeah, well. Now we have one of them. Time to return ten-fold what he and his associates did to Lyra.'

'That we'll do with great pleasure. Should inform Annie now. Link me if you or the Empress need anything, cuz.'

'Yeah, okay. Thanks, Christian. Give Annie my regards.'

'Will do.'

The link closed. I felt Orion's gaze on me, intense and unwavering. His thoughts leaked through our connection—finding me beautiful even unconscious, comparing my breathing to warm stellar winds across void stations. He continued holding my hand, and then whispered into my ear three words that made my unconscious mind freeze:

"I love you."

No. Too soon. Too fast. Don't say things you can't take back.

But my body betrayed me, unconsciously squeezing his hand in response, and I felt his pathways blaze with hope.

Void help me. I'm in trouble.