I sit beside the flame, rubbing the grit from my palms. Rakkh stays standing at first, watching the doorway like he expects thepredator outside to crash through the metal at any moment. Only when Travnyk switches to guard duty does Rakkh finally approach me and sit. Not across from me—next to me. Close enough that the coolness of him competes with the fire.
“You are shaking,” he says.
“I’m fine,” I lie.
His head tilts slightly. He doesn’t believe me, but he doesn’t call me out on it either.
“You led us to shelter,” he says instead. “Quickly. Wisely.”
I stare at the fire. “I just didn’t want anyone to die.”
He is quiet for a long moment. When he finally speaks again, his voice drops softer.
“You fear for others more than for yourself.”
I blink. Hard and fast. No one has ever said anything like that to me. I’ve never thought about it either. Living life—surviving on Tajss—there hasn’t been a lot of time to reflect.
“No,” I whisper. “I’m just… used to being the one at the back. The one no one notices.” I shrug, fingers twisting together. “It’s easier to worry about everyone else than it is to worry about yourself.”
His claws brush my knuckles. Barely a touch. More a question than contact—and it makes my breath catch.
“You are noticed,” Rakkh murmurs.
The words hit me, like heat stealing the air from my lungs.
“You think you’re unseen,” he continues, voice roughening. “But the land listens to you. The plants answer you. That metal—” He glances toward the glowing seam. “It knows your touch. Even the predators follow your steps.”
“That’s… not comforting,” I say weakly.
His lips curve—almost a smile—then his hand lifts. He brushes my cheekbone lightly, carefully, like he’s afraid his claws might cut me.
“You guide us,” he says softly. “You see what we cannot. Even I did not see the guardian’s weakness until you pointed it out.”
A flush crawls up my neck. I stare at the floor, but he leans in, forcing my eyes to meet his.
“You are not unnoticed, Lia,” he says, voice a low rumble. “Not by me.”
Everything in me goes molten.
The fire crackles beside us. Tomas mumbles something unintelligible in his sleep. Travnyk sits at the entryway of the corridor, watching the dunes beyond, but the world has narrowed.
To Rakkh’s breath brushing my skin. To the heat of his thigh, a whisper from mine. To the double-thrum of his hearts like drums against my ribs.
“Rakkh…” My voice cracks. “I don’t know what’s happening between us.”
His eyes soften—dark, molten, dangerous.
“I do,” he murmurs.
I swallow hard. “But we barely know each other.”
“That changes now.”
He moves an inch closer. Just one. Enough to spark heat everywhere our bodies almost touch. Enough that my whole chest tightens.
A metallic groan reverberates through the ship—low and vibrating—shifting the floor beneath us. Almost as if something, deep inside, knocked.
Rakkh instantly goes still, every muscle in his body tightening.
