Page 20 of Fifth (Intergalactic Warriors #5)

He fed her again. And again. Sometimes with fruit, sometimes with meat, always steady, always deliberate.

Each brush of his fingers against her lips was a reminder: he had chosen her.

And he wasn’t letting go. Juice dripped from her chin once and he caught it with his thumb, then slid the finger between her lips.

She sucked without thinking, and his pupils dilated, his nostrils flaring. The heat between them surged.

Finally, he spoke. “I want what my brothers have found. Iwant a mate.” His voice deepened. “Not just any mate. You.”

Her chest constricted. She dropped her gaze to the plate, unable to meet his eyes. The truth was too heavy, too dangerous. “And what does that mean for me?” she whispered.

He tilted her chin up with one finger until she met his gaze again. “We will find out. Together.”

The certainty in his voice stole her breath. For a moment, she almost let herself believe it. Almost. But the substance of it pressed down on her chest. She looked away again, staring at the food she couldn’teat.

The heaviness lingered—until she muttered, “You know, you’re bossy as hell.”

His lips almost curved, though his gaze stayed steady. “I am efficient.”

“Efficient,” she echoed, rolling her eyes. “That’s one way to put it.”

For the first time, the silence between them cracked. She laughed, soft and shaky, but real. And the corner of his mouth tipped, the closest thing she’d seen to a smile.

He reached for another piece of fruit, held it to her lips, and this time when she opened her mouth, she sucked lightly at his fingers before taking the bite. His eyes darkened and she realized she was playing with fire. She wanted to. She wanted to see just how close he could come to breaking.

“You cannot refuse food,” he said, his voice gentling, surprisingher.

“I’m not hungry anymore.” Her voice cracked. “Not for food.”

His gaze sharpened, and the air shifted between them. He leaned closer, lips brushing her ear. “You are hungry for me.”

Her breath hitched. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“It is not flattery. It is truth.”

She didn’t answer, couldn’t. Her body betrayed her. Heat flushed her skin. He leaned back, satisfied, and pressed another piece of food to her mouth. She ate it just to break the tension.

The meal stretched long. He took his time, drawing it out, feeding her until her belly was full and her body restless.

Every brush of his fingers was a reminder of what they’d nearly done in the shower.

Her thighs pressed together under the table, trying to ease the ache.

He saw it. She knew he saw it. His eyes burned hotter every time she shifted.

A warrior appeared at the galley door, silent as a shadow. He bowed and spoke with the clipped fastidiousness of one who had never disobeyed an order. “Commander Sixth awaits you.”

Locus rose at once. His hand came to rest along Hannah’s shoulders, the weight firm, claiming, steadying her as though he knew her knees had gone weak.

The walk stretched ahead, ahushed corridor lined with star maps that glimmered like constellations she didn’t know.

The floor carried a low vibration beneath her bare soles, aheartbeat not human.

She matched her breathing to it, trying to calm the anxious flutter in her chest.

The conference doors parted without a sound.

Hannah stopped short. The chamber opened around her, walls of crystal spilling into starfields so near they looked close enough to touch.

Blades of light cut through the black, etching trajectories she couldn’t begin to read.

Atable of glass stretched the length of the room, glistening enough to reflect both the stars and the flush in her cheeks.

Sixth waited at the head. No armor, only a dark uniform worn like a verdict. His presence filled the space as if gravity had taken form. His eyes—adeep amethyst, lit from within like a shard of galaxy—locked on her, slid to Locus, then back. Measuring. Calculating. Not kind. Not unkind.

“Come forward,” he said.

The calm in his voice carried more command than a shout. Hannah’s pulse stumbled. Locus guided her toward the table, sensing her tension, and edged half a step closer so his body stood between her and Sixth. It helped. Alittle.

“Sit,” Sixth said.

Locus drew out a chair. It adjusted to her, molding to her shape with unnerving precision. He stayed behind her, hands loose at his sides, gaze locked on Sixth. She felt him there, aheat at the base of her spine.

“You have eaten,” Sixth observed. “You have been seen by med techs?”

“Not yet,” Locus said.

“See to it after our meeting.” Sixth’s gaze returned to her. “Name.”

“Hannah.” Her voice surprised her with its steadiness. “Hannah Ward.”

Sixth inclined his head. “Hannah Ward, welcome. You are safe aboard my ship.” His eyes narrowed. “For now.”

Locus’s hand closed over the back of her chair, fingers flexing once in warning. “From this moment forward, she is under my protection. With me, she will remain safe.” His tone was iron, less a statement than a vow. “Permanently.”

Sixth’s mouth slanted the barest degree. Not a smile. “Your certainty is noted, Enforcer.”

The title landed heavy, rippling the air between them. Locus wasn’t only enormous. He carried authority like a weapon.

Sixth gestured to the stars. “You have stepped into a wider field than the one you have known. And yet this is simple. Irequire three things. Truth. Intention. Choice.”

Hannah forced her fingers to unclench. “You can ask. Ican’t promise I’ll have all the answers you need.”

“Truth. Why did you live?” His eyes didn’t blink. “On the ground. In the preserve.”

Her mouth opened, closed. Too many answers.

Because she had refused to die for men who sold women like cattle.

Because Locus had stood between her and every hand that reached for her.

Because something fierce had lit inside her the first time he called her “mine” and she had no idea how to put itout.

“I adapted,” she said at last. “I listened. Iwatched. Ifollowed Locus’s lead.” She raised her chin. “And I refused to give the monsters a show.”

Silence stretched taut. Sixth studied her for a long breath, then nodded once. “Good.” He shifted. “Intention. What do you want now?” It was more than a question. It was a command.

Hannah stared at her hands, at the tunic tied snug around her waist by Locus’s hands, at the faint rope burns on her wrists where his fingers steadied her trembling. Want was a dangerousword.

“I want to go home. Iwant to see my family again.” Her throat tightened, the words breaking into a whisper. “One last time, if that’s all I’m allowed.”

Locus went still. Sixth’s eyes cooled, then softened by a degree that might have been approval.

“And beyond that?” Sixth pressed.

She drew in breath. “I want my life back. Iwant to understand what Locus is asking of me.” Her voice dropped. “I want to know what it means if I say no.”

Locus shifted close enough for her to see him without turning her head and released her wrist. “She will not be coerced,” he said. “I will not allow it.”

Sixth’s gaze flicked to him. “You think I do not know the difference between coercion and consent?” Not quite a question. His eyes returned to her. “Choice. You will speak it. Not to please him. Not to defy him. To define yourself.”

Her throat worked. “And if I cannot choose yet?”

“Then you will not,” Sixth said with surprising ease.

“Time exists. Your captors denied you that. Here it is a resource.” He tapped the table.

Aplatform rose, bearing a narrow band of dark metal.

“Wear this until you are ready to move beyond guest. It will open the doors that should open, and keep shut those that should not.”

Hannah reached, hesitated. Locus took it first, turning it in his fingers.

Starlight clung to the band. He lifted her hand and slid it over her wrist. It clicked, warm against her pulse.

The casual intimacy of his touch—thumb brushing bone, palm cupping briefly—sent heat spiraling up her arm.

She looked away quickly, shaken by how plainly her body confessed.

“Do you understand your position aboard this ship?” Sixth asked. “Say it back.”

“Guest. Not prisoner.” She raised her wrist. “Temporary access, if I earn it.”

“And if you attempt to run?” Sixth asked, almostidly.

The preserve flashed through her mind—cameras, bets, iron bars. The tunic weighed heavily across her shoulders. Locus stood beside her like a barrier she couldn’t move past, his presence a wall of protection and claim. “I won’t run,” she said. “Not yet.”

Sixth’s eyes cut to Locus. “You will brief her on ship protocols.”

“I will,” Locus said.

“You will also brief her on your intention.”

Her pulse stumbled. Locus didn’t look away. “I have done so. Iwill do so again.”

Sixth’s gaze settled back on her. “What do you understand of his intention?”

Her throat ached. “He wants a mate.” The words scraped out. “He wants me.”

“Correct.”

The chamber shrank around her. Heat prickled under her top. Locus’s nearness thickened, heavy as gravity. She wanted to reach for him. She wanted to shove him back. Both at once, until her breath came uneven.

“Look at me,” Sixth said softly.

She did.

“You are not property. On the ground, you were treated as such. Here, you will not be. Nor will you be coddled. You survived because you fought. That will be honored.”

Hannah nodded once. “Thank you.” The words were small buttrue.

Sixth leaned back, starlight cutting hard lines across his face. “One more matter. You still carry the stench of the preserve.” His gaze slid to Locus. “The shower was effective. Not complete. She will be taken to medical for full cleansing and examination.”

Heat flooded her skin at Locus’s nod. “So be it,” he said.

Sixth’s eyes came back to her. “He stopped himself in the shower, when every instinct in his blood demanded otherwise.” The words made her cheeks burn hotter. How the hell did he know that? “He controlled it. That restraint tells me more than anything else.”

She froze, her face flaming with humiliation at how openly Sixth named what had happened in the shower. Her voice came small, broken. “Yes.”

“Good. Enforcers who cannot leash themselves are not given their ships back.”

Her head jerked toward Locus. The warning ought to have chilled her, but memory betrayed her—the wall at her back, his body pressed hard against hers, the heavy weight of him so close she had quivered with need.

The thought curled heat in her belly until her thighs pressed together under the table.

And when she dared glance up, his eyes told her he had noticed. Of course hehad.

“Questions,” Sixth said. “Not all will be answered. Ask them anyway.”

Her voice wavered but held. “What do you want from me?”

“Presence. Clarity when you have it. Honesty when you do not.” His tone didn’t shift. “And truth from him as well.”

Locus’s reply came harsh. “I do not lie.”

“You omit,” Sixth countered. “Less now than before.” His words carried a dry edge, almost companionable. Amuscle ticked beside Locus’s mouth.

Hannah’s next question rose without thought. “If I choose him, what does that make me here?”

Locus answered first. “Mine. My ship becomes yours by extension, and we will be permitted to leave Apex’s domain and return to mine.

With that, you gain standing among warriors, authority among crew.

” His voice eased, quieter now. “And beyond all of that, you gain me. Entirely. My protection, my strength, my every heartbeat and breath bound to yours, not for a day but for all the days we are given.”

Sixth studied her as the words settled. “And if you do not choose him, you remain my guest. No door will close that should be open. No hand will touch you uninvited.”

Her breath faltered. Relief tangled with something she wouldn’tname. Couldn’t name.

Sixth stood. Motion alone drew her gaze. He braced his hands on the table and regarded her as if she were a chart with too many unknowns.

“You have already altered the outcome on the ground. You will alter it here. That is not burden. It is fact.” The silence thickened until the air seemed towait.

Then he spoke, voice even, cutting through her. “Tell me, little human. Are you ready to decide the fate of more than just yourself?”