He snorts. “I just buried myself inside you and told you I love you. That’s about as ceremonial as it gets for me.”
My heart tries to escape my chest.
He thrusts deeper and my brain short-circuits. Heat coils in my belly, lower, tighter, until I’m whining into his mouth with every stroke.
“Don’t stop,” I gasp. “Please—don’t ever stop.”
He groans, biting down gently on my shoulder, and moves faster. The rhythm builds—slick and perfect and full of the kind of hunger that turns worship into ruin. I come with his name on my tongue, and he follows moments later, pulsing deep inside me with a low snarl of my name.
After, he holds me.
He strokes my back. Kisses my temple. Whispers things I don’t understand in his native tongue. My eyelids grow heavy. My body feels boneless, sated, utterly wrecked.
But before I drift, I grab his wrist and murmur, “Promise me.”
He doesn’t speak.
“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”
He grunts. Noncommittal. Not a yes. Not a no.
I mean to argue. I really do.
But sleep takes me.
And when I wake, the bed is cold.
My heart lurches.
The silence is wrong. The weight of him—gone. The scent—lingering, but fading fast. I scramble upright, sheet clutched to my chest like it can shield me from the dread crawling up my spine.
“Vrok?” I call.
No answer.
I check the fresher.
Nothing.
The hallway.
Empty.
My pulse spikes, fists clenching at my sides. Something is off. I can feel it. The air tastes like warning.
Then the sirens start.
High and sharp—like knives shrieking against glass. Emergency lights flare red in the ceiling corners. Beacons flash on the walls. I stumble toward the nearest screen, fingers flying across the controls to access the town feed.
The door bursts open.
Mayor Tebbles barrels in, red-faced and panting. “It’s your… your man,” he wheezes. “The Vakutan. He’s—he’s at the Hooves outpost.”
“What?” I snap.
“He went alone. No briefing, no backup, no request for support. Just… marched out before dawn like a damn war god. We tried to stop him but?—”
I’m already at the console.
