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But the Bond doesn’t change you. It just enhances you. Aelon’s lust for vengeance will only grow fiercer through the Bond.

I’m going to get us away from the captain and his death wish. I’m going to keep the loyal members of my crew alive, even if I have to sacrifice any future with my Bonded triad.

My stomach rumbles. It’s hard to think about food right now, but I need to keep my strength up for tonight.

I step to the replicator. “AI. Food. A sandwich.”

There’s a hum as the replicator in the corner of my room makes a simple sandwich for me. It looks as bleak as the military rations that nourish us on the Wayward Scythe, but food is fuel to me right now. It’s always been like that. There’s never been a budget for a replicator on my own ship.

The Instigator is a battle axe – an old warhorse that’s fought a hundred battles and will face a hundred more under Aelon’s command – so it’s understandable that their sustenance is no more luxurious.

As I wait for my sandwich, I probe the auras in my mind.

I detect an eagerness in the auras of Vinicus and Iunia. Even rational, aloof Iunia is looking forward to killing Toads with that anti-air battery. Those twolivefor the fight. The only time I’ve ever felt them at peace was during our passionate mating.

I take the sandwich out of the replicator and open it up hopefully. There’s a greyish, meat-like protein in there, squished between two slices of hard bread – with a slime of white sauce to help choke it down. I take a bite. It’s bland, thankfully, but not nearly as bad as it looks.

New replicators are almost as good as a personal chef, but I can’t complain about this meal. If The Instigator was a new ship, there’d be no way for us to escape tonight.

It all relies on Theme holding under the pressure.

I know he will.

I just have to get us down the hallway and to the control room without being spotted. The bulk of the Aurelians won’t be back from their daily battles until later, and unless we have a stroke of bad luck, we’ll get there smoothly. The control room houses a collection of servers and AI processors and it won’t be guarded. Aelon isn’t expecting an attack from within his own ship.

I’m antsy. I want to go see Sawoot, but a captain cannot allow their crew to see them weak and stressed. I need to project confidence. Besides, there’s nothing more to discuss. The plan is solid. It’s just going to take a little luck to pull off. Luck, combined with Theme’s computer skills, and Sawoot’s seduction abilities.

That, I know she has down pat. Garrick and his triad might have treated me like a piece of furniture, but I’ve seen a few longing glances thrown in her direction. I know Sawoot can play men like a fiddle, and she’s done so constantly over the years.

She could get the roughest-looking bastards eating out of her hand with one flutter of her long eyelashes. I once saw a street brawler with a nose that had been broken at least three times break down and cry when we left a particular backwater space station; convinced that Sawoot was the love of his life, when he’d been little more than an entertaining distraction for her.

Garrick might be gallant, but he won’t be able to resist her charms when he realizes she wants him as badly as his triad want her.

And so, I wait.

I meditate. I stretch. I do yoga. The seconds tick by. My own emotions match Vinicus and Iunia’s impatience.

As the hours pass, I experiment with the Bond and test our auras, experimenting with how faint I can make them. I can block the three Aurelians out almost entirely, until there’s just a vague awareness that they exist within my mind and not much more.

If I’m right, this means that it’s going to be hard for them to track us – even with our telepathic Bond.

I finally stop fiddling with the Bond, not wanting to attract any attention from the Aurelians. As long as they don’t suspect anything for one more day, nothing else will matter.

I sit perfectly still in my room, but time keeps moving. That’s what it does best. In the end, it makes us all equal. I can’t help but feel like I’ve won a hand of cards against time itself by earning the thousands of years of extra life granted by the Bond.

Time might always win the war in the end, but I’ll have thousands of years to experience more of it.

I’m used to being chased, so I can handle the thought of three more men after me. I guess I’ll now have triad after triad attempting to bring me in – either from Aurelian Law Enforcement, to arrest me for my theft of those Orbs, or from The instigator, tasked with bringing me to my Bonded triad.

The Aurelian species was dying for tens of thousands of years before the Bond became active again, and only now are they gaining in numbers again. As a result, traditionally minded Aurelians will view it as their duty to bring me back to Captain Aelon and his battle-brothers, even if I’m kicking and screaming as they do so.

Is that how they would view me, if I stayed with them? Just a mating tool? A breeding sow? Just a way to reproduce? I want to bemorethan that. I want to be more than just a possession, to beused.

Once again, I explore the men’s auras.

Vinicus is…surprisingly complex. I thought he was a base beast, but now I have a window into his mind, I find there’s far more to him. He doesn’t speak much, and he doesn’t have the dry intellect of Iunia, but Vinicus has a stoic demeanor. Whatever comes to him, comes – and he accepts it without complaint. He’s prepared for everything. Of the three, he’s the happiest, and I know what sparks that joy deep within his aura.

It’sme.