He frowned. "I have no idea what that is."
"Of course you don't."
Then his eyes sharpened. "But Ella said the Pandraxians uploaded everything. Earth history. Records. Myths. Data. All of it. Integrated it into their archives."
I stopped pacing so abruptly, my heel skidded.
"Perfect. Where?" My expression shifted from panic to purpose. "Access. I need access," I demanded, meeting his gaze with familiar focus. This was what I was good at. Researching. Forming logical conclusions. Because, dammit. There had to be one. "If my planet is on your skin—and mine—then someone knew exactly what they were doing."
I was done being the last one to understand it.
By the Abyss.I had seen beauty before. Entire civilizations sculpted to please the eye. Stars bent into symmetry. Arkhevari females before the Fall, radiant and lethal in equal measure. None of that prepared me for standing three paces from a half-dressed human woman with defiance in her eyes and light written into her skin. My gaze betrayed me despite centuries of discipline. Even after she put the sheet back on. The thin fabric of the sheet clung where it had no business clinging, outlining curves my mind had already catalogued far too efficiently. I could see the rise and fall of her chest, the subtle tension beneath the cloth, the unmistakable outline of her nipples when she shifted.
By the Dark Abyss, I wanted to touch her. To feel the warmth of her skin. To trace the lines beneath it with my mouth, learnwhether her breath would hitch the way I imagined. The instinct was ancient, visceral, and wholly inconvenient.
Desire was a distraction. I was very good at eliminating distractions. If she was right—and the evidence was mounting that she was—then the markings on our skin weren't a coincidence or symbolism. They were intent made flesh. A map to Earth.
I did not remember whether the constellations on my father's skin had matched my mother's exactly. Memory stirred at the edge of recall, golden light, quiet nights, my mother's hand over my father's Starmapped chest. Before the glow dimmed after her death.
I would have to go digging through my memories. Later.
Right now, I had a human seeking access to imperial data, a palmtop, and a tendency to challenge authority like it was a sport. I moved to grab the device from the counter and reactivated its external communication layer with a flick of my fingers. She watched me carefully.
"It won't do you any good to complain to Emperor Daryus that I've taken you," I warned. It wouldn't. He could send the entire fleet after us, and it wouldn't matter; it would be an… inconvenience, one I'd rather not deal with. I had no desire to explain myself to an imperial fleet already drowning in its own crises.
"You know," she tried to assure me, but it came out sharp, "I'm not going to run away or anything."
I glanced at her, unimpressed. "You wouldn't get far."
She scowled. "I'm serious. I'm not trying to escape. I'm… intrigued."
Intrigued.
The word scraped.
Intrigued?
This was the survival of my species we were discussing. The unraveling of the Abyss. The reappearance of bonds thought lost since before the First Collapse.
And she wasintrigued?
My jaw tightened.
"Your curiosity is noted," I stated coolly.
She crossed her arms, an action that did absolutely nothing to help my focus, and lifted her chin. "Good. Because whether you like it or not, I'm involved now."
I studied her, arrogance settling back into place like armor. She had no idea how deep she was already in. No concept of how many shadows I had walked, how many lies I had dismantled, how many wars I had prevented before they ever had names.
She stood there unafraid, luminous, demanding answers from a god who had spent eons deciding who deserved them. Who lived and who died.
Annoying.
Fascinating.
Dangerous.
By the Abyss, this female was going to ruin me. I straightened, letting my presence fill the room deliberately. "Then listen carefully, human, if Earth is written into our skin, it is not an invitation."
