“Yes.”
“When did it change?”
“The moment you decoded my message and felt curiosity instead of fear. When you looked at me like I was a puzzle worth solving instead of just another threat.” I pulled her down, needing her weight on me, needing to feel her heartbeat against mine. “I told myself I was being strategic when I broke that first wrist for you. Told myself it was calculated when I threatened Kreeg. But the truth? I stopped thinking tactically the moment I saw you counting cards with your left hand while smiling at some ambassador like he mattered. You were so alone. So brilliant. So wasted on this place. Just like I'd been wasted before Qeth found me.”
“You saw yourself.”
“Every protection, every threat, every broken bone—it wasn't strategy. It was recognition. Every time I protected you, I was protecting the part of myself I thought was long dead—the part that still fought back. You weren't hollow or angry. You were waiting. And I couldn't let Qeth break that.”
She was quiet against my chest, her breath warm on my skin. I could practically feel her mind working, that beautiful brain processing everything I'd admitted. Then she laughed, a bitter, startling sound.
“Five years I've been memorizing every security blind spot in this station. I volunteered for every miserable maintenance shift they offered, just for the chance to map another corridor. Every camera angle. Every guard rotation. Every maintenance shaft, emergency exit, and forgotten corridor. All that time, I was a corpse dealing cards—safe and dead. I want dangerous and alive.”
My hands tightened on her waist. “You've been planning something.”
“I gathered data obsessively because it was the only control I had. But gathering isn't the same as committing. I never had enough hope to actually do anything with it.” She sat up, straddling my hips. The move was confident and powerful, and my body responded immediately, but she didn't seem to notice. Too lost in her own confession. “I had all this knowledge. Every detail perfect in my head. I could tell you which guard takes his coffee break at 3:47, which camera has a two-second lag, where the maintenance tunnels connect to the high-security levels. But I never used any of it because... because what was the point? Escape to where? To what? To more nothing?”
“Sabine—”
“Then you arrived.” Her voice cracked. “You looked at me and saw something worth protecting. Made me feel valuable beyond my function. Made me feel—” She pressed her hand to her chest like she was trying to hold something in. “I was dead, Varrick. You brought me back to life. Do you understand what that means? You made me want things again. Made me remember what hoping felt like.”
The weight of that admission nearly stopped my hearts.
“The vault,” I said carefully, “I can't get to it without…”
“Without someone who knows every weakness in this station's security.” Her smile turned predatory. “And I can'tescape without someone strong enough to handle the physical obstacles.”
“You need my strength.”
“And you need my knowledge.”
“Partners.”
“Together we might actually pull this off,” she said, then leaned down to kiss me. Not with the desperate hunger of before, but with something deeper. Promise. Partnership.
When we broke apart, she started talking. Five years of perfect observation poured out of her. She drew invisible maps on my chest, showing me routes I'd never have found. Her memory was flawless—she forgot nothing, cataloged everything, filed it all away for a someday that had finally come.
“The vault has biometric locks, but they're connected to the main system. When the algorithms fail completely?—”
“The locks fail too.” I saw it immediately. “Qeth's paranoia becomes his weakness.”
“Soon. The system failure is accelerating.” She traced patterns on my chest, and I realized she was drawing the route we'd take. “He's already deteriorating—I've watched his public appearances. He forgets names, repeats himself, sometimes stops mid-sentence like he's lost.”
“Dangerous.”
“More dangerous than two people attempting to rob him?” She smiled again, and I wanted to worship her. “We're already past dangerous, Varrick. We're in the realm of insane.”
“You could stay safe. I could do this alone.”
“No.” The word came out firm. Final. “I want dangerous and alive.”
My fangs ached again, the claiming instinct roaring through me. She must have seen something in my face because her hand came up to touch my jaw, thumb brushing over where my fang pressed against my lip.
“Not yet,” she whispered. “After. When we're free. When I can choose you without desperation. When you can claim me without it being about possession.”
“You understand what that means? The bite?”
“Forever.” She kissed me soft and deep. “I understand forever.”
