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Shadows danced across the black obsidian tub, its depth carved with etched sigils.

Another command and hot water poured into the basin, as steam rose.

‘Bath?’ he asked, voice quieter now, more intimate.

She gave a slight nod, eyes lighting up for the first time that day.

Xander sat on a chair and pulled her to him.

He undressed her, reverently, unlacing her boots, sliding off her tunic, peeling away the exhaustion with every motion.

Then she helped him undress, fingers trailing over the ridges of his muscles, his tattoos, and the scars of a hundred missions.

By now, their shared gaze was molten.

‘Fokk, you have the most beautiful bedroom eyes,’ he growled into her ear.

They stepped into the steaming liquid, the obsidian smooth and warm beneath them.

Xander sat behind her, pulling her into the cradle of his thighs, wrapping around her as water lapped at their skin.

He bathed her, his calloused hands slicking soap over her shoulders, all the way to her legs. Her body trembled under his touch, her breath hitching, even as her limbs relaxed into him.

His lips pressed to the slope of her neck. Her fingers laced with his.

They talked in murmurs between kisses.

Their embrace deepened, slow and molten.

The foreplay ratcheted, feet tangled, and need blooming.

Later, they rose from the bath, dried each other with thick towels, and padded barefoot over the warm floor into his bed.

He pulled her beneath the black silk sheets and into his arms.

As theSombraand the rest of the armada slid in between the hush of galaxies, he made love to her, taking his time.

They gave themselves over to the unwavering burn of connection and the quiet, trembling miracle of finding bliss on a journey fraught with ongoing battles.

He let himself feel all of her, losing his heart and soul in the throes of a bliss unimaginable.

SAVVINE

She woke in the stillness of early morning, cocooned in silk sheets scented like him, smoke, steel, and musk.

His arm rested on her waist, her cheek nestled to his chest, and the steady thrum of his heart grounded her in a way nothing else had in days.

She shifted, her fingers gliding over the warm plane of his torso, feather soft, tracing the old scar beneath his collarbone, over a half-moon of raised cutis.

He didn’t move, but she caught the catch in his inhale. A smile curved her mouth as she stared at the constellation of scars across his chest, mesmerized.

‘Violent much?’ she murmured, tracking one with the tip of her finger.

He chuckled, his chest rumbling, then leaned in, his exhalation hot over her skin. ‘You like them,’ he said, right before his tongue flicked the shell of her ear.

She shivered, and any witty retort on her lips melted into a gasp.

‘Where’s this one from?’