Page 52

"They needed us," Linnea murmured, already drifting toward sleep. "The chancellor and the warrior, the stone and the sand."

"The perfect mating of opposites.”

The tent suddenly seemed filled with the weight of everything they'd overcome—the prejudice of generations, the plots of enemies, the barriers of their own making. Yet here they were, Crestek and Dothvek, bound now by both the ancient rituals of his people and the promise they'd made to each other.

"I love you, Zexx," Linnea whispered, the words simple yet profound in their absoluteness. "More than I ever imagined possible."

"And I love you," he replied, the phrase still new enough on his tongue to send a thrill through him. "Beyond sand and suns, beyond stars and time."

She nestled closer, her head fitting perfectly into the curve of his shoulder, her breath warm against his skin. "Are you certain about living in the city?" she asked, the question tinged with lingering concern. "I know how much you missed the sands, how confined you felt within those walls."

Zexx tilted her face up to his, wanting her to see the truth in his eyes. "I will be happy wherever you are," he told her. "The walls don't confine me when you're beside me. Besides," he added with a smile, "the city has changed since you've begun your reforms. The gates do not stayed closed, the people are allowed to walk along the sands, Dothveks are welcome traders. It is freer now."

"Still," she said, her fingers playing with a strand of his hair that had fallen across his shoulder, "I'll want to come to the oasis for frequent breaks. To breathe the desert air, to sleep under the stars, to remind myself of the simplicity we can so easily forget in the politics of the city."

He rolled on top of her in one fluid movement, pinning her hands above her head as he grinned down at her. "Are you certain it's the desert air you crave?" he teased, lowering his head to nip gently at the sensitive spot beneath her ear. "The stars above? The simplicity of village life? Or could it be something else entirely?"

Her laughter vibrated through both their bodies, a sound that never failed to fill him with joy. Then she arched against him in a way that sent heat surging through his veins once more. "I will confess that the opportunity to have my fierce Dothvek warrior without interruptions from council meetings and diplomatic crises is a particularly compelling reason to visit the village."

"I thought as much," he murmured against her throat, releasing her wrists to slide his hands down her sides, savoring the way she responded to his touch. "Using the chancellor's official visits for your own pleasure. Very devious, mate."

"I learned from the best," she retorted, her hands now free to explore his body with the same deliberate attention he was giving hers. "A certain ambassador taught me that diplomacy can be very pleasurable."

He demonstrated her point by claiming her mouth in a kiss that left no room for doubt.

Epilogue

The Crestek traitors shuffled up the metal ramp of the bounty hunter ship, their wrists bound with energy cuffs that glowed a soft blue in the early morning light. Vellen kept his head high, his expression fixed in a mask of defiant dignity despite his fall from power. Behind him, Taal stumbled slightly on the uneven surface, earning a not-so-gentle prod from Tori's blade at his back.

"Keep moving," she said, clearly enjoying her role as prison escort. "Your new home awaits, and I hear the Den of Thieves on Kurril is lovely this time of year." Her sarcastic tone made it clear that "lovely" was the last word anyone would use to describe the notorious outlaw haven.

The prisoners said nothing as they were marched into the dark, cool interior of the ship. The temperature difference between the desert heat and the climate-controlled vessel created beads of condensation on the metal walls, giving the loading bay a damp, unwelcoming atmosphere. The hum of engines warming up vibrated through the deck plates beneath their feet, a subtle reminder that their fate was sealed—they would never again set foot on the planet they had tried to control.

T'Kar waited inside, his expression stern. The former chancellor's son who had chosen the sands over stone now stood as living proof that transformation was possible—a fact that seemed to particularly unsettle Vellen, whose gaze kept sliding away from the bare-chested warrior as if unable to reconcile what he saw.

"Secure them in the holding bay," T'Kar instructed. "Bexli will monitor them. If they so much as breathe too aggressively, she has permission to shift into a sand scorpion.”

Tori's eyes lit up at this prospect. "Ten credits says one of them wets himself the first time she goes full Lycithian in front of them."

"I don't take bets I know I'll lose," T'Kar replied with a hint of a smile, before gesturing for her to proceed with the prisoners.

As the traitors were led deeper into the ship, K'alvek watched them go with grim satisfaction. Justice had been served—not through execution or imprisonment within the Crestek city, where they might still have found sympathizers, but through exile to a place where they would experience what it was like to be powerless.

With the prisoners secured, K'alvek made his way through the ship's corridors toward the bridge. The vessel felt alive around him, a familiar symphony of mechanical sounds and electronic beeps that had become as much his home as the sands of the Dothvek village had once been. The transition from desert warrior to spacefaring bounty hunter had been unexpected, but he had never regretted following his heart—and his mate—to the stars.

The bridge doors slid open with a soft hiss, revealing the command center of the ship. At the helm sat Caro, her hands dancing in perfect coordination across multiple control panels, her dark hair pulled up in a high ponytail. To her right, Danica occupied the captain's chair, her blonde curls spilling over her shoulders, her expression focused as she reviewed data on a holographic display.

"Prisoners secured," K'alvek announced, crossing to stand beside Danica. "No problems?"

She looked up at him, her serious expression melting into a warm smile that was reserved solely for him. "None that I've heard about. Though Tori seems disappointed she didn't get to use her new blade."

"There will be other opportunities," he said, resting a hand on her shoulder. "That slaver still has a high price on his head."

Danica reached up to cover his hand with her own, a simple gesture that still sent a pulse of warmth through him even after all their time together. "True. And speaking of other opportunities—" She was interrupted by Caro's sudden exclamation.

"Captain, we're receiving a transmission," the pilot said, one hand adjusting controls while another tapped rapidly on a sensor pad. "It's coming in on a heavily encrypted channel."

"Source?" Danica straightened in her chair, instantly alert.