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Tambi grimaced. “Let’s not bring that hokum bullcrap into it. It’s all lies, designed to prey on the weak.”

“I believe in something,” Cass said. “At least, I believe there’s trapped energy in this ship. And isn’t that what ghosts are? Energy can’t be destroyed, it just changes form. Solid into liquid, liquid into gas. We don’t recognize the energy form it once was, but it’s still there.”

“I prefer the spooky ship idea.” Doc smirked. “We should sell tickets and set up a fright night.”

“You see what I mean? Ghost bull to prey on the deluded.” Tambi tapped her stylus against the counter. “Whatever we’ve got haunting this rig, we have a problem. Rennick, you gave us a load of fake documents. That gives us a reason to void the deal.”

“No! The paperwork is legit. No fires on board. No deaths on board. It didn't happen here.”

“So, Cass is lying?”

I opened my mouth, and my gaze locked onto Cass. “She isn’t. I trust her.”

“Then find out what’s true, or we walk.” Tambi turned back to her screen. “And take Cass with you. But I want answers by the end of the day. If we find out you’ve been screwing with us, you forfeit your fee.”

Teeth clenched, simmering with frustration, I left the galley, Cass beside me. I glanced down and got hit with a replay of what I’d done to her. My cock hardened, and only brute willpower kept me from touching her.

I’d only ever done casual. A night of fucking with an available female that left me satisfied but uninvested. We fucked, we both got our physical needs met, and we moved on. It was how I operated and would keep operating unless the bond found me and rearranged my life around a single fixed point. Her. My one true mate.

But I had a problem. What had happened with Cass didn’t feel casual. In fact, the second we’d met, a sensation had flickered inside me. A gut check that had me questioning my sanity.

It couldn’t be her. Cass Myers wasn’t my bonded forever. My bond mate wasn’t a human.

She glanced at me, and I looked away.

Every Kelvane male learned the symptoms young. The way our body stopped belonging to us and oriented around someone else. How your mate’s scent changed from information to a smell your lungs never stopped reaching for, and how you could be in a room with a hundred souls and your attention goes to one doorway, because she’s about to walk through it, and you know before she arrives. That knowing lives in the marrow, not the mind.

It was a rare gift to find her, and I’d believed it would never happen for me. And the absence had been fine. Comfortable. A clean life with good work and no complications.

Until it wasn’t. Until I landed on Cass, and she connected with my ship. She connected with me.

“Where we doing this?” Cass asked.

I cleared my throat, too conscious of her presence, my cock aching for her touch. “Let’s use the bridge. The system glitches less from the main control hub.”

I made it to the bridge without tripping over my damn thoughts about mate bonds, screwing Cass, and wondering what it would be like to have her ride my face while I tongue fucked her, and pulled up the records.

The sale documents filled the display. It was a clean provenance. Stamped, certified, bearing the seal of the Kelvane registry office.

Previous crew: departed service.

Ship status: decommissioned, standard refit.

There was no incident report, and definitely no report of a fire.

I cross-referenced the dates with the registry timeline and paused. “They don’t match.”

Cass leaned closer, a strand of her dark hair brushing against my arm. “Huh. The decommission date falls a day out. It’s easy enough to miss if whoever filed this wasn’t paying attention. Load the crew roster.”

“What will that give you?” I resisted the urge to curl my fingers around the back of her neck and draw her to me.

“I want to see if I know anyone. I mean, you know, I felt the crew energy, so maybe I can get more of a vibe from seeing their names.” She blew out a breath. “I don’t know what I mean by that. It’s a feeling. Does that make any sense?”

“It would if you were Kelvane. Give me a minute.” The crew roster loaded. Twelve names, the standard complement for a vessel of this size. Eight were legible. Four were redacted.

“Is that unusual?” Cass pointed at the hidden names.

“I assumed it was because they were military. It’s common to have ex-military personnel on board. The crew always has varied skill sets. Former military isn’t unusual.”