He carries me to the bed—finally, gently—and wraps his arms around me.
“I’ve taken many,” he whispers against my temple. “But never like this. Never like you.”
“I know,” I whisper back.
“I’ll never let you go.”
“Good,” I say, eyes fluttering shut. “Because I’m not letting go either.”
CHAPTER 10
KALLUS
We’re suspended in the void above a pocked moonlet — one of the smaller fractures of rock that circles the gas giant Tyrannus like ash caught in a dying star’s gravity. The Relentless hangs in orbit with sleek menace, black hull bowed against the swirling violet storms below.
The alert blares — not urgent, but enough to puncture the silence of my quarterdeck like a blade through silk.
A message flashes on the targeting array:
Incoming transmission — Reaper Contact.
My claws flex beneath me as I key it open.
It’s short. Two words and coordinates:
IHC patrol. Earth fleet.
Near Tyrannus trajectory.
My breath seizes.
IHC.
Not rumors anymore.
Not whispers on trader nets.
They’re out here. Hunting.
And they’relooking.
For us.
For her.
Ayla.
The humming in my spine abruptly turns to ice.
I should be processing this strategically. Logically. As a captain. A warlord. A predator should.
But all I hear is the threat to her.
Brom is beside me before I even think to move.
His face is grim, scarred under lights that blink like pulsebeats. “This is a warning shot,” he says.
“More than a warning,” I growl. “They’re not just patrolling. They know we exist. They knowwherewe are.”
