I squeeze his wrist, weak but sure. “I didn’t leave.”
“I feared you would.”
The door sighs open. Kalow, Clint, and Honeybear stand just inside, faces taut but hopeful. Spewey hovers near, blinking soft luminescence.
I try to shift, reach out—but the effort sends a shudder through my body.
Takhiss tilts down and kisses the top of my head. “Stay with me,” he murmurs.
I want to squeeze him tight. I want to take Vex from his arms and cover his face in kisses, tell him I’m sorry I wasn’t there. But first I have to survive.
I croak, “Let me hold him.”
Takhiss nods and gently lifts Vex from his arms. The weight is warm, heavy, perfect. Vex rests against my chest. My fingers close awkwardly around his small frame. His small body trembles.
He looks up at me: tear-tracked cheeks, confusion in his eyes. But recognition too.
“Momma?” he whispers.
“Yes, baby. I’m here.”
Takhiss settles beside me, arms around us. Our three hearts beat in rough unison.
Clint approaches, voice hushed. “We disabled the tracking. We’re clear for now. Autrua’s fleet is scrambling, but they don’t know our trajectory.”
I nod, though I’m too drained to speak more.
Kalow steps forward, her tail curling behind her. “I’ll stand watch,” she says, voice quiet, firm.
Honeybear edges in, offering water in a small cup. I take a sip. It tastes like metal and sanity.
Takhiss presses his forehead to mine. “Thank the gods you’re alive.”
I close my eyes, holding Vex, feeling the slight rise and fall of his chest under my hand. The pain is still there—aching, dull—but it’s distant now.
We remain locked together in silence for a long moment.
Then I whisper, voice trembling: “Let’s never leave him again.”
Takhiss nods, voice rough: “Never. Not ever.”
I look at the dangling lines of IVs, the faint hum of med-drones silently awaiting orders, the sterile room tinged with soft green gloom from emergency lights.
Pain, fear, relief, love swirl inside me. A cocktail of survival.
I cling to them both—my son and my mate.
No storm, no threat, no tribunal or priestess or galaxy can take what’s left of my heart now.
We will endure.
CHAPTER 46
TAKHISS
TheAces Highhurtles backward through the wreckage of the hangar, its engines screaming over the roar of collapsing hull and ruptured conduits. Behind us, theFlame of Ataxiafractures, metal plates peeling away in shockwaves of fire and light.
The explosion blinds me. A white flash so fierce I swear I see my own bones in silhouette. The blast wave slams into us—every bolt rattles, panels groan, alarms wail.
