“So you’re saying you overwhelmed a military-grade bio-lock with the sheer power of being incredibly horny and possessive?”
A laugh startles out of him—deep and genuine. “I am saying that my biology apparently decided that securing this data was less important than securing you. The resonance... the bond... it spiked my systems higher than any war ever could.”
“I like that version better,” I decide, leaning into his touch. “Less ‘destiny,’ more ‘accidental overload of passion.’”
“It wasn’t accidental,” he says, his thumb brushing over the bite mark on my neck. “It was inevitable.”
I touch the mark again, feeling the slight raised edges of the healing wound. In the reflection of the polished metal wall panel, I can see it’s already taking on a faint golden shimmer—like his scales left some kind of bioluminescent residue in the tissue.
“I’m glowing,” I say.
“You’re marked.” The possessive satisfaction radiating from him is almost comical. “Everyone will know you’re claimed now.”
We lie there in the cooling air, the crystal still projecting its silent star map above us. The data is unlocked. The bond is sealed.
Whatever happens next... we aren’t facing it alone.
I close my eyes, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and for the first time in my life, I don’t feel the urge to run.
I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
9
Static in the Void
Polly
Iwakeupdrowningin him.
Rynn’s heavy thigh is slung possessively over mine, pinning me to the bunk like I’m his prize and he’s never letting go. One thick arm locks around my waist, fingers splayed over the dip of my spine as if even in sleep he needs to feel every inch of me. His face is buried in the hollow of my throat, lips brushing the raw, throbbing mate-bite that flares hot every time my pulse stutters.
The air is thick with us: salt-slick skin, the sharp metallic bite of spent desire, and that low, addictive burn of his scent soaked so deep into my lungs I’ll never get it out.
The Aethel crystal lies discarded on the floor beside my crumpled jacket, dark now. Just a cold, fist-sized stone. As if it didn’t rip open last night and flood us both with starlight while he was buried to the hilt inside me, teeth sinking into my neck, growling mine mine mine until the word carved itself into my marrow.
I still feel it. That merciless snap behind my ribs when the bond locked. His pleasure slamming into mine, mine pouring into him, until the whole universe collapsed to the slick drag of his cock and the brutal, perfect stretch of being taken so completely I forgot my own name. Now the echo hums both ways, a second heartbeat that whispers he’s just as wrecked for me as I am for him.
His breath fans slow and hot across the bruise he left. For once the lethal tension that’s ridden him since the moment he stepped aboard is gone, melted into lazy, trusting weight. He’s sprawled over me like I’m the only safe harbor in all the black, and gods help me, I want to keep him here forever.
I should move. Should check the nav. Should pretend I’m still the captain and not a woman who begged an alien warrior to ruin her against her bunk until her voice shredded.
Instead I stay perfectly still, memorizing the way his scales flicker soft indigo along the ridge of his shoulder, slow as breath. The dermal resonance thrums between us: low, filthy, sub-audible, vibrating straight to the ache between my thighs that still remembers exactly how thoroughly he took me apart.
I’m marked. Owned. The bite throbs with every pulse, tender and swollen, his scent soaked so deep into my skin that anyone who comes near will know in seconds I’ve been fucked and claimed and bonded by something wild and unstoppable.
The thought should terrify me.
It doesn’t.
I’m still reeling from that particular revelation when Rynn stirs. His hand flexes on my waist, fingers spreading wide and possessive, digging in just enough to remind me who I belong to now. He inhales deep, nose dragging along my throat, and the vibration in his chest kicks up a notch, that low, hungry purr that makes my nipples tighten against his chest.
“Good morning,” I manage, because somebody has to say something before I do something stupid like roll him onto his back and ride him until the bunk collapses. “Or, you know, whatever cycle it is in space. Zip, what’s our—”
“CURRENTLY IN STABLE ORBIT AROUND AN UNINHABITED MOON,” Zip chimes in, smug as ever. “LIFE SUPPORT OPTIMAL. HULL INTEGRITY HOLDING AT NINETY-FOUR PERCENT FOLLOWING RECENT... ENTHUSIASTIC STRUCTURAL STRESS TESTS. ALL SYSTEMS GREEN, CAPTAIN CHAOS. ALSO, GOOD MORNING TO YOU BOTH. YOU’RE WELCOME FOR THE PRIVACY MODE, BY THE WAY.”
Rynn’s lips curve against my skin. A smile. An actual, lazy, devastating smile that I feel more than see.
“Your AI has opinions,” he rumbles, voice gravel-rough from sleep and last night’s growls. The sound licks straight down my spine and pools hot between my legs.
