Page 11

SELENE

A strangled gasp tore me from sleep. My heart hammered against my ribs, the phantom sensation of Hammond's grip on my arm lingering, the acrid smell of sparking artifacts sharp in my nostrils. I sat bolt upright, disoriented, the damp chill of the cave seeping into my bones.

"Easy, ." Kavan's voice, low and calm, cut through the lingering fragments of the nightmare. Just hearing him say my name steadied something inside me. I hadn’t realized how much I’d needed to hear it—just that quiet certainty wrapped around the chaos. He sat near the cave entrance, his silhouette framed by the faint light filtering through the waterfall. He hadn't been sleeping.

"Bad dream?" he asked, though I sensed through our strange, budding connection that he already knew.

"Hammond," I managed, rubbing my arms. "The isolation chambers... Claire..." The images were still vivid, horrifying. "He was attaching more artifacts to her markings." I took a shaky breath. "And the patients... Dear God, I hoped Frakes was managing. That the medicine was enough, that it was holding..."

Kavan rose and came to sit beside me, bringing a subtle warmth that eased the cave's chill. He didn't touch me, respecting the boundary I hadn't known how to ask for, but his presence was a comfort. He didn’t ask me to be calm. He didn’t try to solve it. He just sat with me in the aftermath, and for the first time in weeks, I didn’t feel the need to carry it all on my own. "His actions are driven by fear and a lust for control. He perverts knowledge into weaponry."

"But he has weapons," I countered, hugging my knees. "And technology we don't understand. What if he succeeds? What if he finds a way to actually control the markings, or worse, suppress them entirely? Rivera said the western ruins felt unstable. What if his tampering triggers something catastrophic?" My thoughts spiraled, fueled by exhaustion and fear. "We delivered the medicine, yes, and it seemed to stabilize them, but was it enough? Will it last? Frakes is capable, but managing Luraxi Fever complications without full knowledge... The danger hasn't ended, Kavan, it's just changed shape."

"Which is why we must proceed with wisdom, not just urgency," Kavan said reasonably, though I felt the undercurrent of his own tightly leashed anger toward Hammond. "Rushing back unprepared would serve no one, least of all Claire, or the patients still recovering."

He was right, logically. But logic felt distant when picturing Claire strapped to Hammond's machines, or imagining a patient relapsing beyond Frakes' ability to treat. "It feels wrong, sitting here hiding while they suffer."

"I understand." His voice held a depth of empathy that resonated through our connection. "I felt the same helplessness when my younger brother was injured during his first hunt. My training was incomplete; I could only watch as the master healers worked, knowing I lacked the skill to intervene effectively."

The unexpected glimpse into his past startled me. "You have siblings?"

He nodded, his gaze distant for a moment. "Two brothers. Both chose the warrior path, like my father. They accepted my choice of healing eventually, but the distance... it remains." He looked back at me, his golden eyes seeming to search my face. "Your family? You mentioned your mother..."

The memory surfaced, sharp and unwelcome—my mother's carefully neutral expression at my medical school graduation, the polite questions about when I might pursue a 'more suitable' career in colonial administration. "My mother is... ambitious. For herself, for her family. Medicine felt like a rejection of the path she'd envisioned for me." I shrugged, trying to dismiss the old hurt. "She couldn't understand why I'd choose stitching wounds over shaping policy."

"Yet you chose the path that called to you," Kavan observed. "Despite familial pressure. Despite expectations."

"So did you," I realized. "We both disappointed our families to follow our own way."

A smile touched his lips, softening his usually stoic features. "Perhaps we are not so different, Carter."

In the quiet intimacy of the hidden cave, the barriers between us seemed to thin further. The shared vulnerability, the parallel struggles against expectation—it forged a connection deeper than the kiss we'd shared earlier.

"This connection between us," I began tentatively, looking down at my hands where the silver markings pulsed faintly in rhythm with his nearby lifelines. "I felt your anger just now, about Hammond. And earlier... your relief when I was safe. Is it... is it always like this for your people? This awareness?"

Kavan considered this, his gaze thoughtful. "Nyxari lifelines resonate with those we are close to, yes. We sense strong emotions, pain, sometimes intent. But this..." He gently took my hand, his larger fingers covering mine. His touch sent warmth spreading up my arm, quieting the frantic pulse beneath my skin. "This feels... more direct. Clearer. As if the markings create a bridge my lifelines alone cannot."

"It's strange," I admitted, not pulling my hand away. "Feeling someone else's emotions alongside my own. It's... exposing." Yet, strangely, not entirely unwelcome. With him, it felt less like an intrusion and more like understanding.

"Trust must be the foundation," Kavan said softly, his thumb brushing over the silver whorls on my palm. "Without it, such closeness would be unbearable."

His words resonated deeply. Trust. After everything—the crash, Hammond's betrayal, the constant danger—trust felt like a fragile, precious thing. Yet, sitting here with Kavan, sharing fears and histories in the dim light, I realized I did trust him. Implicitly. Completely.

Impulsively, I leaned forward, closing the small space between us. His breath hitched almost imperceptibly as my lips met his. This kiss held none of the frantic energy of the first, born instead of shared understanding and burgeoning trust. It was slow, exploratory, a rediscovery. His hand slid from mine to cup my cheek, his touch sending shivers down my spine despite the cave's warmth.

When we finally drew apart, the air crackled with unspoken emotions. The connection between us felt tangible now, a living current flowing through our linked markings. It didn’t erase the pain. It didn’t fix the past. But it made space for something new—an honesty between us that didn’t ask for apologies or certainty. Just presence. Just possibility.

"We should..." I started, my voice catching.

"Yes," he agreed softly. "We should plan our next move."

We spent another hour discussing the journey ahead. The path to the Nyxari settlement would be treacherous, especially given the recent tremors we'd felt and the looming threat of the approaching storm season. But it was the only logical choice. We needed the Council's knowledge, Lazrin's warriors, and the support of the other marked women.

"We leave at first light," Kavan decided, rising smoothly to his feet. His movement seemed to signal the end of their intense discussion. "Rest now, truly, . We will need our strength."

I nodded, feeling the bone-deep exhaustion settle in now that the adrenaline had faded. Moving to the makeshift bed of moss and his tunic we'd arranged earlier, I lay down. This time, the nightmares stayed at bay. I drifted off feeling Kavan's steady presence nearby, a silent guardian in the darkness.

The fear hadn't disappeared, but now it mingled with something else—a fragile, tentative hope, anchored by the Nyxari healer who understood me in ways no one else ever had. The path ahead was dangerous, uncertain, but facing it together felt infinitely better than facing it alone.

We would reach the settlement.

We would find a way to help Claire and the others still recovering.

We would confront Hammond. One step at a time.