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T he ventilation hub’s metal walls radiated a faint chill against my bare back. My mind still processed what had happened between us. Ravik’s scent lingered on my skin—mountain air and warm stone with that distinctive Nyxari musk I couldn’t properly describe.

The bond between me and him had changed, settled into a steady hum rather than the chaotic static I’d grown accustomed to. For the first time since the markings had appeared beneath my skin, I felt balanced. I flexed my fingers, still tingling from the intensity of our joining.

The raw energy that had flowed between us had left my body humming with residual power. My engineer’s mind wanted to analyze it, break it down into components I could understand. But some experiences defied technical explanations.

I turned my head to look at him. His eyes met mine, pupils slightly dilated in the dim light. I didn’t need the bond to read the vulnerability there.

He’d shown me his true name—Ravi’kaax—his memories, his fears. The Shadow Canyon clan’s secret knowledge of the ruins, passed down through generations. The burden of being a guardian of dangerous technology.

And I’d given him equal access to mine. The foster homes. The engineering scholarship that had been my escape. The relief when The Seraphyne had accepted me despite my disciplinary record.

The intensity still made me dizzy. “We should get moving,” I whispered, reluctant but acutely aware of our situation.

Ravik nodded, his expression shifting back to the focused warrior, though something softer lingered in his eyes.

“The diversion needs to be set before the next patrol cycle.” His tail, which had been loosely draped across my leg in a gesture I now recognized as protective and affectionate, withdrew as he sat up.

The loss of contact left a surprising emptiness. I reached for my clothes, scattered in our earlier urgency.

My fingers traced the silver lines beneath my skin, brighter and more intricate than before.

The patterns had changed during our joining, spreading further up both my arms and across my collarbone in delicate, circuit-like formations.

“They’ve expanded,” Ravik observed, his voice carefully neutral as he pulled on his own garments, the fabric rustling softly in the quiet space.

“They’re stronger,” I replied, surprised at how certain I was. “I can feel it. Like they’ve settled into place.”

I pressed my palm against the junction box that formed part of the ventilation hub’s wall. Information flowed into my consciousness—air circulation patterns, maintenance schedules, component status—clearer and more detailed than ever before.

He reached out, hesitating just above my skin before gently tracing one of the new patterns with his fingertip. The touch sent a pleasant shiver through me. “Among my clan, this would be a sign of acceptance,” he said, his deep voice soft.

“The lifelines responding to your purpose.” His own golden patterns had shifted too, I noticed, forming new configurations that seemed to mirror certain elements of my silver markings. “The bond is complete now.”

Something passed between us then—not words, but understanding. We’d moved beyond the initial hostility, beyond the grudging cooperation.

We finished dressing in silence, checking our salvaged gear one final time. The transmitter Rivera had built from scavenged parts sat heavy in my pocket—our one link to the outside world once we cleared the compound’s jamming field.

Its circuitry felt warm against my thigh, responsive to my proximity in a way it hadn’t been before. I ran through mental calculations of power consumption, signal strength, potential interference patterns.

Focus on the concrete, the knowable. Not on the heavy feeling in my chest at the thought of what lay ahead.

“The coolant system for the drilling operation will be minimally guarded during the night cycle,” Ravik said, running through our plan again as he secured a makeshift blade to his forearm.

“I can create an overload that will trigger their emergency protocols, drawing security away from the perimeter.”

I nodded, mentally tracing the route to the junction box again. “I’ll need approximately three minutes to disable the shield segment. Once it’s down, we have a twelve-minute window to clear the perimeter before the backup systems engage.”

I didn’t mention the risk—that interfacing directly with Hammond’s crude hybrid technology could overwhelm my markings. We had no other option.

The security systems were too complex for manual override, and we had neither the time nor resources for a more elegant solution. Ravik’s tail flicked once—a sign of determination I’d learned to recognize.

The small space suddenly felt too intimate, too safe compared to what waited outside. The reality of our situation pressed in again—captives in Hammond’s compound, attempting a nearly impossible escape through hazardous wilderness with an injured woman in tow.

I checked my tools one last time—insulated wire cutters, the modified scanner that could detect the shield’s power fluctuations, a small pry bar for the junction box. Everything we had, we’d scavenged or built ourselves during our captivity.

I ran my fingers over each tool, checking for flaws or weaknesses. An engineer’s habit that had saved my life more than once.

Ravik moved to the ventilation grate, pausing before pulling it open. His ears tilted forward, listening for any movement in the corridor beyond.

“Zara.” He rarely used my name, and the sound of it in his deep voice sent a pool of totally inappropriate heat through my belly. “Stay alive.”

The words carried more weight than their simplicity suggested. I met his gaze and nodded once.

“You too.” I could feel his fierce determination, his protective instinct—emotions too complex for words through our bond.

I let him feel my own resolve in return, the steel in my spine that had kept me going through worse situations than this. We slipped out into the dimly lit corridor, the moment of connection tucked away as we focused on the dangerous task ahead.

The cool recycled air raised goosebumps on my skin where Ravik’s warmth had been minutes earlier. Time to go.