Sylvie has spent her life aboard the Solstice18 learning how to be invisible. A low-ranked clone among the stars, she keeps her head down, follows orders, and never - ever - catches the attention of the captain.
But Jon Gavelan is impossible to igno...
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"Angel. Slow down."
I'm running through a vast hillside covered in the most beautiful flowers, and chasing after me is him—Jon.
My Jon.
When he catches up, he wraps those strong, muscular arms around my waist and lifts me slightly off the ground.
His fingers weave through my silver hair like he's trying to memorize every strand. His other hand skims down the curve of my back, pulling me closer, closer, until I'm leaning fully into his solid chest.
And when I glance up and back, there it is. That caramel gaze, warm as molten gold, steady as gravity, and somehow more comforting than the ground beneath my feet.
"Sylvie," he says my name like it's a lyric. "Sylvie."
I could stay and die on this hill forever.
But, as dreams do, the scene shifts and warps into something else. Suddenly, Jon and I are standing hand in hand on a high metal platform, suspended hundreds of meters above the ground. His black battle uniform now clings perfectly to his powerful frame, while I'm dressed in an elegant white gown, the hem catching in the wind.
"Ready?" Jon smiles at me.
"Yes," I answer.
I step forward, the edge of the platform brushing against my heels as I raise my hands and let my gaze sweep over the battlefield below.
Armored soldiers crash together on the barren earth—a brutal tide of metal and flesh, tearing at each other in desperation. Some strike like they still believe the ground will remember their victory. Others move as though every blow is just a way to outpace the grave a little longer. The air coils with heat and smoke, lit by searing lashes of laserfire and the jagged music of steel meeting steel.
Hundreds of thousands of bodies—creatures, male and female. Gaian and non-Gaian alike. All caught in the holy war of two ancient names. And here we stand, on the side of the one seated at the throne.
"My darling angel," Jon murmurs, his voice so tender it cuts. "Kill them all."
And without hesitation, a scream rips from my throat—raw, wild, and unearthly.
Simultaneously, in the heart of the chaos, a massive sphere of crimson energy claws into existence, swelling with the fury in my scream.
And then. . . it explodes.
Light shatters everything, pulverizing everything and everyone in its path—
I bolt upright, gasping. Sweat drips down my face, my shaky hands clawing instinctively at my neck.
What the hell was that?
"Sylvie," Ivi's calm voice chimes in from the ceiling. "You just had another nightmare."
