And now it had found something stronger to reach for. I took another step toward the containment field, feeling the darkness respond to my power. Inviting. Seductive. Nythor had never been the voice.
He had only been the bait.
Ashley's quarters—office,really—sat just off the command spine, close enough to the bridge that the walls faintly vibrated with the flagship's constant readiness. There were no soft corners here. Nothing that screamedhome. Just function disguised as comfort: a table, two chairs, a wall of stacked datapads and sealed briefcases marked with Earth languages I recognized at a glance.
She offered me tea. At first, I didn't drink it. I told myself it was nerves. The normal kind, the kind that came when you were a human on an Imperial warship in orbit over a stripped world named Cronack, while the Arkhevari you were… bonded to… walked alone into a Cryon ruin. Normal.
Except nothing about any of this was normal.
Ashley moved with a practiced ease that made the room feel less hostile. She leaned against the desk with her arms crossed, watching me with a look I'd come to recognize in women who'd survived too much: the casual posture of someone who could go from laughter to violence in a single breath.
"So," she said, trying for lightness. "How's it going, being… well. Whateverthisis."
I blinked, dragged myself up from the spiral I hadn't realized I'd started. "This?" I echoed.
She gestured vaguely between my collarbone and my wrists, where faint markings threaded beneath my skin like a living constellation. "You and the glowing star tattoos. You and the Arkhevari. You and the universe deciding to be a fever dream."
I exhaled, and the sound almost became a laugh. Almost. Then it happened. Not a sound. Not a voice. A sensation, like someone had opened a door in my mind, and cold air rushed in. My breath stopped, and my vision narrowed as a flicker of something not-my-own scrawled across my thoughts, jagged and fast and utterly wrong.
—not me, not voice, not speaker?—
—it listens through me?—
—you are brighter?—
My skin went cold in a wave. I swayed, catching the edge of the desk before I could tip over. Ashley was instantly at my side.
"Nadine?" Her hand hovered near my elbow, not touching yet, waiting for permission. "Hey. What's wrong?"
I swallowed. My mouth tasted like copper. "I…" My voice didn't come out right. "I don't know."
Ashley's eyes sharpened. "You went pale."
I shook my head once, hard, like I could shake the feeling loose. "Something feels… off," I managed. "Like—like static in the bond. Like something's—" My throat tightened. Like something was… slipping.
The word hit too close to the truth.
Ashley studied me for a beat, then softened her tone. "It might help if you tell me what's really going on."
I looked at her. Iwantedto. God, I wanted to. To take the weight in my chest and set it on the table between us and make it someone else's problem for thirty seconds. But I knew Dravok liked to keep things close to his heart. He didn't want the Pandraxians to know too much. He trusted me not to betray him.
"I can't," I said, and hated how small it sounded.
Ashley didn't push. She only nodded slowly, like she understood what it meant to hold a secret because the alternative was worse.
"Okay," she said. "Then tell me what youcan."
My markings pulsed. Not the usual low glow, this was brighter, urgent, webbing across my skin like stars trying to spell something I didn't want to read. Ashley's gaze dropped to my throat. Her expression changed.
"Oh," she breathed. "You're glowing."
I followed her eyes and realized the Starmap had brightened enough to reflect off the polished surface of the desk. Fear tore through me with a violence that robbed my breath.
"They've never done that," I whispered.
Ashley's voice turned gentler. "They're… beautiful. Are those your mating marks?"
The word hit wrong and right at the same time. Too intimate for a warship. Too true to deny.
