Grady was already slipping into the shuttle. “We’ll be fine, Y. Royalers are fast, and we look out for each other. It’s our whole thing.” “Grady’s right,” Foster said, surprised the words didn’t burn his tongue. “It’s just like another royale. We fly down, run in, scrap, and run some more.” “This isn’t just anything, Foster. You’re my son.” Gerard ran an agitated hand through his long black hair. “I need you to come back.”
