"It's not." Her voice dropped to something raw and vulnerable. "Cullen, I just found you. I just found this—" She gestured between us, at the connection that had been building since the moment we met. "I'm not losing you. Not to Riuondo. Not to some misguided sense of duty. Not to anything."
I stared at her, at the fierce determination in her eyes, at the way her hands trembled slightly where they gripped my shirt. And I realized she was just as terrified as I was. Just as desperate to keep me safe.
"I can't lose you," I said, the words coming out rough and unplanned. "I can't—"
She kissed me.
Hard and desperate and full of everything we couldn't say. I felt her fear in that kiss, her love, her absolute refusal to let me go. My hands came up to frame her face, and I kissed her back with equal intensity, pouring everything I felt into that moment.
When we finally broke apart, both breathing hard, she pressed her forehead to mine.
"Together," she whispered. "We do this together, or we don't do it at all."
I wanted to argue. Every instinct I had screamed at me to protect her, to keep her safe, to take the risk myself. But looking into her eyes, I saw the same instinct reflected back at me. She wanted to protect me just as fiercely.
And maybe that was what being mates meant. Not one person sacrificing for the other, but both of them standing together, facing whatever came as equals.
"Together," I agreed finally.
Relief flooded her expression. She kissed me again, softer this time, and I felt something settle in my chest. A rightness. A certainty.
We'd face this together. Whatever happened.
"We need a plan," I said when we separated. "A real one. If we're both going in—"
"We create a distraction," Serna said immediately, her tactical mind already working. "Draw one guard away from the shuttle. Take him out quietly. Then we move on the second guard —fast and coordinated."
"And once we're inside?"
"We find the communications array, send a distress signal, and get the hell out before anyone realizes what we've done."
It was a good plan. Simple, direct, with minimal room for things to go catastrophically wrong. Which meant, of course, that things would probably go catastrophically wrong.
But it was our only shot.
"Okay," I said. "Let's—"
Serna held up a hand, her head tilting. "Wait. Look."
I followed her gaze and saw movement near the shuttle. One of the guards was walking away from his post, heading toward the tree line. A patrol, maybe, or just boredom.
"That's our opening," Serna breathed.
But even as she said it, the light was fading fast. The sun had dipped below the horizon, and the jungle was transforming into a realm of shadows and uncertain shapes. The portable lights around the shuttle created harsh pools of illumination, but between them, darkness reigned.
"We can't move now," I said reluctantly. "Not in the dark, not without knowing the terrain better. We'd make too much noise, alert them before we got close. Plus the search parties might be returning."
Serna's jaw tightened, but she nodded. "You're right. We wait until first light. When the search parties move out again."
It made tactical sense. But it also meant spending the night here, within sight of our enemies, knowing that every hour brought the risk of discovery.
"We need to find better cover," Serna said, scanning our surroundings. "Somewhere we can rest without being seen."
We moved carefully through the darkening jungle, staying low, until Serna found what she was looking for—a natural alcove formed by three massive trees whose roots had grown together, creating a hollow space beneath them. Dense foliage surrounded it, and the entrance was barely visible even from a few feet away.
A creek ran nearby, its water bubbling over smooth stones with a constant, gentle murmur. The sound would help mask any noise we made. It was perfect.
"Here," she said, ducking inside.
