Chapter 36: This Isn’t Goodbye, It’s Just See You Later

As soon as they were safely inside the privacy of their tent, away from the curious stares and laughter of the other mercenaries, Vykhor’s demeanor subtly shifted. Without saying a word, he gently guided Evelyn toward her cot, his gaze carefully scanning her for any sign of weakness. Despite his usual roughness, there was an unexpected tenderness in his every move.

Evelyn wanted to protest, embarrassed by the attention, but Vykhor silenced her with a single look, his authority absolute.

"You're exhausted, Evelyn. Don't argue."

Her cheeks flushed slightly, but she let him guide her without resistance. The Kael’tarien helped her sit on the edge of the cot, his firm hands steadying her with careful precision. Then, kneeling in front of her, he captured her gaze, making sure she was truly listening.

"I know you always think you can keep going, that you have to keep going. But you have limits, and it’s time you accept them." His voice was firm, almost stern, but Evelyn could hear something else beneath it—something deeper. A genuine, unshakable concern. "Let me take care of you. Just for tonight."

Without waiting for an answer, Vykhor stood up and moved to the other side of the tent. He returned moments later with a soft blanket and draped it gently over her shoulders. Then, without another word, he sat beside her, allowing her time to grow accustomed to the quiet, reassuring closeness between them.

After a moment, he lifted her face between his hands, forcing her to meet his eyes. "Evelyn, understand this once and for all: you’re under my protection. And I won’t tolerate you running yourself into the ground needlessly."

Her heartbeat quickened at his words, but she simply nodded. A rare, almost imperceptible smile flickered across Vykhor’s face—one of those rare moments of warmth that chipped away at her final defenses.

"Get some rest now," he murmured, gently guiding her down. He remained beside her, silent, watchful, until she finally drifted into a deep, well-earned sleep.

Then, he stood and left the tent. It was still too early for him to rest. Kryon was gone, but the threat of his enigmatic backer still loomed over them, lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike.

"Vykhor..."

The Kael’tarien turned slowly, his piercing gaze settling on Janis Voren, who was approaching with an unusual cautiousness. Something about the colonel’s hesitant stride immediately put Vykhor on alert. His muscles tensed slightly, instinctively ready to defend Evelyn against any criticism, even from an ally like Voren.

Voren cast a quick glance at the tent where Evelyn was finally resting after an exhausting day, then refocused on Vykhor. His expression was unusually grave.

"I know you’ll think I’m overstepping, but are you certain a mercenary’s life is really what’s best for Evelyn?" His voice was careful, almost compassionate.

Vykhor’s body stiffened imperceptibly. He straightened, instinctively adopting a defensive posture. "She chose this life, Voren," he replied, his tone cold but controlled. "Of her own free will, with full awareness."

"I’m not questioning her intelligence, not at all," Voren conceded with a conciliatory nod. "She’s brilliant. Exceptional, even. That’s undeniable. But it’s not her intellect that concerns me."

Vykhor’s frown deepened, his patience beginning to wear thin. "Then what exactly is it that concerns you, Colonel?" he asked, a hint of warning lacing his voice.

"Evelyn has a clear emotional fragility," Voren said calmly, holding the mercenary’s hard stare. "I’m not talking about her physical endurance, which has obviously improved under your watchful eye. But emotionally… she seems unstable, weighed down by deep scars."

A cold smile ghosted over Vykhor’s lips, tinged with irony. "You underestimate her, Voren," he said flatly. "Evelyn is far stronger than you think. She carries her scars, yes, but she chooses to face them, day after day, at my side."

He stepped forward, his imposing figure reinforcing his authority. "She relies on me as much as I rely on her. We’re connected in ways you can’t understand."

Voren opened his mouth to argue, but Vykhor abruptly raised a hand—an unmistakable sign that the conversation was over. "That’s enough, Colonel. This discussion is finished. Evelyn and I are leaving tomorrow morning."

A tense silence stretched between them as the two men held each other’s gaze. Eventually, Voren gave a slow nod, realizing he had crossed an invisible yet very real line.

"Very well, Vykhor," he finally sighed in resignation. "I just wanted to ensure her well-being."

"That’s exactly what I’m already doing," Vykhor replied, his voice low, firm, but carrying an unyielding determination. "Don’t worry about her, Colonel. Evelyn Ashcroft is under my protection, and nothing will happen to her as long as I draw breath."

Without waiting for a response, Vykhor turned and strode back toward their tent, determined to keep his promise at any cost.

Lying on his cot, Vykhor stared at the ceiling of the tent, his arms crossed behind his head. Beside him, Evelyn slept deeply, her slow, steady breathing a quiet rhythm of peace. He listened, attuned to every small movement, and found himself oddly soothed by the simple sound.

Since when had he stopped seeing Evelyn as just an ally?

He thought back to their first meeting at Colonel Kane’s base. At that time, he had expected a frightened, broken scientist—someone who wouldn’t last long in a world as ruthless as his. But she had surprised him. She had adapted with startling speed, grasping the mercenary’s unspoken rules and carving a place for herself with an almost unnatural ease. Evelyn Ashcroft wasn’t just another human. She wasn’t an anomaly, either. She was an enigma.

She could have crumbled after Kane’s betrayal, after Kryon’s revelations, after the disturbing hints about her own past. But she hadn’t. Not only had she endured—she had evolved. Her mind didn’t just understand this world; it integrated it, molded it to suit her needs. Who knew how far she could go? He could sense it. He knew it. Evelyn Ashcroft had only begun to show what she was capable of.

And he would be there to see it.

Vykhor had no illusions about himself. His fate wasn’t a peaceful one. His life was marked by violence, by endless conflict, and he knew it would eventually catch up with him. But now, as he stole a glance at the sleeping woman beside him, a certainty settled in his mind.

He wouldn’t let anyone take her from him. Not the ghosts of his past, not those who wanted to control her, not even the cruel laws of the universe.

Evelyn was his.

And he would stand by her, just as he always had.

He would see how far she could go.

And more than that—he intended to be there for the journey.

**The Next Morning**

True to his decision, Vykhor announced their departure after breakfast. The camp was still buzzing with the aftershocks of their victory over Kryon, yet a subtle sense of melancholy lingered as the news spread. Those who had fought alongside the mercenaries knew their mission would have been much harder without them.

Evelyn and Skye exchanged a knowing glance as Vykhor issued his final orders. Skye, never one for sentimentality, ran a hand through her hair before following Evelyn back to the tent she shared with Vykhor. Inside, Evelyn packed her belongings with practiced efficiency, folding her clothes and checking her equipment with the same precision she had since first stepping aboard the Narak’Tharr.

Leaning against the tent’s frame, arms crossed, Skye feigned a pout. "Hey," she said in a gruff tone. "You better keep in touch, Evelyn."

Evelyn looked up, slightly surprised by the request. She had already planned to reach out to Skye regularly, but something in her friend’s demeanor struck her. For once, Skye wasn’t just teasing—there was genuine attachment behind her words.

"Skye?" Evelyn asked, amused.

Seeing her questioning gaze, Skye shrugged nonchalantly. "Yeah, obviously," she muttered, glancing away as if she didn’t want to make a big deal of it.

Evelyn smiled warmly. "Of course, I will."

Skye smirked and gave her a light shove on the shoulder. "This isn’t goodbye, Evelyn," she said with a smirk.

Evelyn nodded, her gaze shining with restrained emotion. "It’s just a see you later."

The two women exchanged a knowing look. The mission, the dangers they had faced together, had forged a solid friendship—one born in the fire of action and peril. They were different, their paths would diverge, but they both knew they wouldn’t lose touch.

Then, true to herself, Skye couldn’t resist adding with a smirk, "And if Vykhor ever pisses you off too much, just let me know, and I’ll come kick his ass for you."

Evelyn burst out laughing, picturing the ridiculous scene of Skye trying to take on Vykhor. But before she could reply, a deep voice rumbled from the entrance of the tent.

"Kick my ass, really?"

Evelyn’s head snapped up, surprised to hear Vykhor’s familiar voice. He stood at the entrance, arms crossed, his piercing golden gaze locked onto Skye with that unreadable expression that made it impossible to tell what he was thinking. Skye, however, wasn’t easily intimidated. She raised an eyebrow and turned to him with a cocky grin.

"Oh yeah, Kael’seth, really," she replied, leaning casually against the tent’s frame. "Someone’s gotta keep you in check if you ever get too… tyrannical."

Still crouched next to her bag, which she had just finished packing, Evelyn felt a laugh escape despite herself. The bond she had built with Skye was something rare, and this moment was a perfect reminder of that.

Vykhor stepped forward slowly, his imposing presence casting a long shadow inside the tent as he stopped right in front of the mercenary. He studied her for a moment, then—unexpectedly—a rare but undeniable smirk curled at the corner of his lips.

"I’d love to see you try," he murmured, his voice low and almost amused, before shifting his focus to Evelyn. His gaze lingered on her for a second, softer, more personal.

"Are you ready?"

Evelyn nodded. She cast one last glance at Skye before getting up and pulling the sharpshooter into a brief but firm hug.

"I promise I’ll keep in touch as soon as I can," she whispered.

Skye nodded, her eyes glinting with an emotion she didn’t often show. "Do that, Ashcroft. And try not to get yourself into too many impossible situations."

"I’ll do my best," Evelyn replied with a mischievous smile, though they both knew it was only a matter of time before she found herself in another dangerous adventure.

Vykhor took a step back to let Evelyn exit the tent. As she passed him, he placed a light hand on her back—a barely conscious, yet undeniably protective gesture. Skye, of course, noticed immediately and shook her head with a mock sigh.

"Ah, you two… What a pair." She winked at Evelyn. "Safe travels, Ashcroft."

Evelyn gave her one last smile before following Vykhor out of the tent. The camp was slowly waking around them, but for her, a new chapter was about to begin.

***Author's Note:*** I'm sorry for my long absence. I've had many health problems and tests. But I'm back. And I intend to bring this story to its conclusion.