9
Roark
I opened my eyes. Blinked. Again. I heard my name.
“Roark!”
“Councilor.”
I groaned as I was shifted and moved. Everything hurt and I couldn’t get the stench of that damn nox hair out of my nose. And blood. Burned flesh. Pain. I smelled like pain.
“Lift him carefully. He’ll need at least a full day in the ReGeneration Pod.”
I saw nothing but white at first, then some colors mixed in, then everything came into focus. So did the face that loomed over me.
“He’s waking up.” Seton, my second-in-command, exhaled and gave me a grim smile. Seton was two years older than I, a trusted friend. His family bloodline traced back nearly as far as mine. As the last son of my line, I had been elected councilor. But we both knew if I failed to produce an heir, or was killed, the people would
