Chapter 35

Syn's boots echoed faintly down the corridor as he hurried toward the medic room, the ship's hum a low pulse beneath his quickening steps.

The dream's echo—"The King really hates the pirates…"—still gnawed at him, a cold unease threading through his veins, sharpened by the shapeshifter ambush. Vera's bloodied fight, the green-skinned impostors—it all churned in his mind, a puzzle with too many missing pieces.

He reached the medic room door, its sleek panel hissing open, and stepped inside, his gaze softening as it landed on Vera, resting atop a pristine bed, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm beneath neat bandages.

"Syn!" Pako's voice broke the quiet, a soft exclamation that jolted him as she turned from the window, her dark eyes glinting in the dim light. She kept her tone hushed, mindful of Vera's sleep, her short bob swaying as she leaned forward from her chair beside the bed.