Neither does she.
For a moment, all the noise of the ship fades. The Hulk itself seems to hold its breath. The only sound is the rhythm of our breathing—his and hers, predator and survivor, two heartbeats finding the same pace.
The firelight flickers out.
We stand in the dark.
And though nothing is said, something unspoken takes root—something wild and alive.
The kind of thing fate doesn’t joke about.
The kind of thing that, once started, can’t be stopped.
CHAPTER 10
ISOLDE
He says my name like it’s sacred.
“Isolde…”
Not loud. Not with hunger. It’s softer. Reverent. Like he’s never said a word before and chose this one to be his first.
We’re in one of the old officer’s quarters—surprisingly intact. The bedframe groans when he sits on it, awkward in his bulk. The light above is half-dead, flickering in amber pulses, casting his scales in waves of bronze and shadow. He watches me from the edge, like I’m the sun and he’s not sure if he’s allowed to touch.
And for once, I don’t feel like a persona, or a brand, or a walking headline. I don’t feel like content.
I feel like a woman. A warm-blooded, nerve-lit, utterly terrified, completely electric woman.
I stand there in the silence, between us and everything else. The ship groans in the distance, deep in its ribs. Somewhere, Meyer is plotting. Somewhere, the danger isn’t over. But right now, in this breath, it’s just us.
I toe off my boots. Step out of the ruined remnants of my influencer gear—torn, stained, and sweat-drenched from days of running. I strip off everything that isn’t me.
His eyes never leave mine. Not once. Not even when the fabric falls away and I’m bare, skin prickling under the cold ship air.
He stands slowly. Quietly. Like I’m a dream he doesn’t want to startle.
“You’re shaking,” he says.
“I know.” I swallow. “It’s not fear.”
His hand reaches out, then hesitates. I take it and press it to my waist.
His palm is rough. Callused. Battle-worn. But he touches like he’s never held anything fragile in his life.
“Still think I’m a toy?” I whisper.
His growl is low, deep in his chest. “You are… not for play.”
I step in, closing the distance. I lay my hands against his chest—scaled, warm, trembling slightly. His heart pounds like thunder under my palms.
“Tell me,” I murmur. “Tell me why it feels like I’ve known you since before I was born.”
He brushes a knuckle against my cheek. “Because the stars carved you for me.”
And that’s it. That’s the crack that opens the dam. That’s the moment where everything breaks loose.
I rise up on my toes and kiss him.
