“Don’t give me that soldier crap right now, Voltar.”
I close my eyes for half a beat.
Because yeah. I’m lightheaded.
The pain’s manageable. I’ve trained for worse. But the blood loss is real, and the pounding in my skull has reached a high-frequency buzz.
Sable fumbles at the edge of my armor. “Let me in.”
“I’m fine.”
She doesn’t even dignify it with a reply. Just rips the chestplate free with a grunt, exposing the burned shirt underneath, already soaked dark. The fabric peels like skin. I flinch.
She swears.
“Deep,” she mutters. “It cauterized the top layer, but it’s still bleeding under. Bastard hit your radial artery, I think.”
I laugh. It comes out more like a cough. “Romantic.”
“Shut up.”
She jams the medfoam into the wound. The hiss of the gas spreads cold through the torn muscle, and I groan—half agony, half sweet relief.
“You idiot,” she whispers. “You’re not allowed to die.”
“I’d never,” I rasp. “Too damn stubborn.”
Her face crumples—just for a second. Then she leans in and kisses me.
Hard.
It’s not pretty.
It’s desperate. Wet. Fierce. Her fingers knot in what’s left of my shirt like she’s afraid I’ll vanish.
I kiss her back, because I need to.
More than I need oxygen.
She shifts closer, straddling my lap, thighs bracketing my hips. Her armor scrapes mine, and we both hiss at the contact.
But neither of us pulls away.
The vault’s still trembling from explosions three floors down. But right now, all I hear is the blood in my ears and the hitch in her throat as she kisses down my jaw, across my throat, like she’s trying to memorize me with her mouth.
“Sable,” I whisper, half-warning, half-beg.
She pulls back just far enough to look me in the eyes.
“No regrets.”
I wrap my arms around her waist, groaning when the movement pulls at the fresh medfoam. But I don’t stop.
Because this might be the only moment we get before Otto drops a nuke on the whole building.
And I’m not leaving this life without loving her completely.
Her hands are already working at the plates on my belt, nimble and practiced. She mutters something about “terrible design” as the latch finally gives and the tension in the room shifts from survival to hunger.
