Page 25

T he distant rumble of thunder pushed us onward through the darkening forest. Ravik’s weight against my shoulder grew heavier with each step, his breathing more labored. The fever from his infected wounds was worsening.

We needed shelter, and soon.

“There,” he murmured, voice barely audible over the wind rustling through alien foliage. His tail hung limply behind him, no longer able to maintain even the slightest motion that might help with balance. “Rock formation. Might have... overhang.”

I adjusted my grip around his waist, careful to avoid the worst of his wounds. The heat of his fever seeped through the torn fabric of his clothing, burning against my palm. “I see it. Just a little further.”

The jutting rock face came into view as we crested a small rise.

My markings tingled beneath my skin as we approached.

The reaction wasn’t as severe as when we were near the ruins or Hammond’s tech, but there was something here—perhaps traces of the ancient energy network that ran throughout the planet.

The sensation spread across my nerves, not unpleasant but insistent.

The overhang formed a shallow cave, deep enough to provide shelter from the approaching storm but not so deep as to harbor predators.

I tested the ground with my foot, feeling for instabilities or the telltale vibrations of burrowing creatures before helping Ravik inside.

The rock felt cool and solid beneath my palm as I guided him to sit against the back wall.

His golden eyes were fever-bright in the dimness, his breath coming in shallow pants.

“Let me check your wounds,” I said, kneeling beside him on the sandy cave floor.

His blue skin felt hot under my fingers as I carefully unwrapped the makeshift bandages.

The musty scent of the cave mingled with the metallic tang of blood and the sharper smell of infection.

The slashes from the guardian automaton were angry and red, the edges showing the telltale black tracery of an infection exacerbated by the energy weapon burn.

“Not good,” I muttered, the words escaping before I could filter them.

“I have... survived worse,” he replied, but the way his lifelines flickered weakly beneath his skin told a different story. The golden patterns seemed dulled, their usual vibrancy muted by his condition.

I reached for the small pouch of medicinal herbs we’d managed to take from Hammond’s lab. The plants had a bitter, astringent smell that made my nose wrinkle even as I carefully crushed them between my fingers, releasing their healing properties. “This isn’t enough. You need real treatment.”

“We will reach your settlement. Tomorrow.” His voice retained its confidence despite its weakness.

“If the weather holds. If Hammond’s patrols don’t find us. If your fever doesn’t worsen.” The engineer in me couldn’t help calculating the probabilities—and they weren’t in our favor.

His fingers caught mine, unexpectedly strong despite his weakness. His skin felt rough against mine, the texture different from human skin—slightly firmer, the tiny ridges more pronounced. “We will reach it. Because we must.”

The certainty in his voice, the unwavering determination—when had I started finding these qualities admirable rather than frustrating? When had his presence become something I relied upon rather than merely tolerated?

The storm arrived with a crack of lightning that illuminated the cave in stark white brilliance, followed by a crash of thunder that shook loose stones from the overhang.

Rain fell in sheets, bringing with it the rich, earthy scent of wet soil and vegetation.

The sound created a curtain of white noise, sealing us in our temporary sanctuary with a wall of water.

I finished applying the medicinal paste to Ravik’s wounds and rewrapping them, my movements gentle despite my practical efficiency. The paste clung to my fingertips, cool and slightly numbing.

“Better?” I asked, wiping my hands on a scrap of cloth.

He nodded slightly, the motion barely perceptible in the dim light. “Your hands are... skilled.”

“I was trained as an engineer, not a doctor.” I flexed my fingers, noting the small burns and cuts they’d accumulated during our escape.

“Yet you adapt. As do I.” His gaze held mine, the gold of his irises seeming to capture what little light filtered into the cave. “We should rest while we can.”

I settled beside him, spreading the single thermal blanket we’d stolen over both of us. It smelled faintly of antiseptic, a reminder of its origins in Hammond’s medical supplies. Ravik’s body radiated heat from the fever, but I knew the night would grow cold.

The first hints of that chill already crept along the stone floor, seeping through my worn clothing.

As I moved to position myself beside him, his arm encircled me, drawing me closer. The gesture wasn’t merely practical—there was a tenderness there that caught my breath. My markings responded to his touch, the sensation like a low electrical current, pleasant and warm.

“Zara,” he murmured, my name a question and a statement all at once.

I turned toward him, our faces inches apart.

In the near-darkness, I could just make out the contours of his features—the strong line of his jaw, the slight crease between his brows.

The bond between us thrummed with shared sensation—his pain, my exhaustion, and beneath it all, a current of something deeper and more powerful than either of us had anticipated.

“We’re alive,” I whispered, my breath mingling with his. “Against all odds.”

The realization washed over me like warm rain: survival mattered because it meant more tomorrows wrapped in his arms. I tightened my grip as though I could hold the future itself.

His hand traced my cheek, following the path of my markings. The touch sent sparks of sensation through the silver patterns, amplifying the connection between us. “Because of you.”

“Because of us.”

Those three words rang like a victory anthem inside the cave, weaving our individual triumphs into one shared legacy. I let the thought settle: together, we were unstoppable.

The kiss was almost inevitable, a progression as natural as the storm outside. Unlike our first desperate joining in Hammond’s compound, this was gentle, exploratory. His lips were warmer than mine, slightly textured, surprisingly soft against mine.

My hands traced the contours of his face, his shoulders, careful to avoid his injuries. His skin had a faint mineral taste, unlike anything human.

His tail coiled around my calf, no longer limp but responsive, an extension of his growing desire. The sensation was odd but not unpleasant—warm and strong and somehow possessive in a way that sent shivers through me.

The bond between us magnified every touch, every sensation.

I could feel his pain diminish as pleasure took its place, the fever momentarily forgotten as we lost ourselves in each other.

The connection between us strengthened, creating a circuit that seemed to flow between his golden lifelines and my silver markings.

We moved together slowly, reverently, the small cave filling with our shared breath, our whispered words.

The sound of the rain provided a rhythm, the occasional thunder a counterpoint to our accelerating heartbeats.

In that moment, there were no enemies pursuing us, no injuries threatening his life, no uncertain future awaiting us at the settlement.

There was only this connection, this undeniable truth between us.

The sensations built, amplified by the bond until it was difficult to distinguish which feelings originated with me and which with him.

His pleasure became mine, mine his, creating a feedback loop of escalating intensity.

When release came, it washed through us both simultaneously, our shared energy briefly illuminating the cave walls before subsiding.

Afterward, as we lay entangled beneath the blanket, the storm raging outside, I felt his fever had lessened slightly. The bond seemed to have strengthened him somehow, transferring some of my vitality to him. His breathing came easier, the tension in his muscles had eased.

“Rest,” I told him, tucking my head beneath his chin, feeling the steady beat of his heart against my cheek. “We have a long journey tomorrow.”

His tail remained curled protectively around my leg as he drifted into sleep, the tip occasionally twitching in response to his dreams. His breathing steadied, becoming deeper and more regular than before.

I stayed awake longer, listening to the storm, feeling the occasional droplets that found their way through the cave’s ceiling to splash cool against my skin.

I monitored his condition through our connection, feeling the bond’s steady pulse between us.

The sensation was nothing like I’d imagined when I’d first heard about the lifebonds between humans and Nyxari.

It wasn’t just emotional or physical—it was something more fundamental, as though some basic energy that made me who I was now flowed freely between us, creating a circuit that strengthened us both.

The woman who had first been thrown into that cell with him would never have imagined this outcome. That woman had seen only an alien, an enemy, a complication. Yet here we were, bound together by forces neither of us fully understood but which neither of us could deny.

Tomorrow would bring its own challenges—Hammond’s pursuit, Ravik’s worsening condition, the uncertain reception that awaited us at the Eastern Settlement.

For now, this moment of peace was enough.

I allowed myself to sink deeper into the connection between us, letting the sound of the rain and the warmth of his body lull me toward sleep.