Page 6 of Fifth (Intergalactic Warriors #5)
He tightened his grip on her hand. The trial had started.
The roar of the crowd dulled behind them, consumed by the looming hush of the preserve. Dirt swirled low across the ground, carrying the first scents of oil and blood like a warning. The air felt different now, charged, as though the earth itself waited for their mistakes.
They moved slowly, each step deliberate.
Reddish-brown dirt shifted with every breath of wind, hiding wires meant to trip the careless.
The way she gripped his hand warned of the tightness of her fear, and he heard the strain in her uneven breath.
Every crunch beneath her small foot sounded like steel scraping free, sharp with threat.
His hand stayed steady, guiding her in line, keeping her pace measured, his grip unbreakable.
“Do not rush,” he murmured. “Time does not kill here. Carelessness does.”
Her gaze darted everywhere, desperate to anticipate the invisible threats. At first she saw nothing, only earth and scrub. Then, abreak in the crust of soil. She froze. “There.”
He crouched, tracing the seam with the blunt knife tip. The ground split, revealing a shallow pit, jagged stakes driven upright. He lifted his head and met her eyes. “Good.”
Her breath trembled out. Aflicker of pride straightened her shoulders.
They wove deeper into the field, pausing often. Once, he triggered a trap with a tossed stone. Ahuge spiked log slammed across their path with violence. The impact shattered trees at the edge of the trail. The blast of motion scarred the ground, splinters jutting like spears.
He watched the destruction and understood this was no test of speed alone, but a gauntlet meant to drive them toward another gate.
He narrowed his eyes, already measuring the unseen route, already calculating where the next gate might lie hidden.
He analyzed what worsening traps must protect thatgate.
Hannah stiffened beside him, her breath sharp, but he kept his focus on the path ahead. He took another step, then froze. She stumbled into him, her hand flattening against his bare chest. The muscle under her palm was unyielding, heat sparking through him like tinder catching flame.
Her breath stuttered, defiance and fear warring in her eyes.
She pulled back quickly, cheeks flushed, but he registered more than embarrassment—he recognized awareness, sharp and new.
His expression didn’t change, but his grip firmed, steady as iron, asilent vow that he would never let her fall, no matter how far the traps tried to dragthem.
Hours passed under the beating sun. At last Locus realized the ground ahead didn’t align with a hidden gate.
They had been moving the wrong way. When he shifted to turn them back, afresh line of traps waited, wires strung like snares, pits gaping between them, blocking the straight path.
He studied the pattern, and drew Hannah with him as he traced their way back.
Each avoided trap had been reset, ready to bite again.
The preserve wasn’t meant to be crossed easily.
It was meant to bleed strength, energy, and hopeaway.
Sweat slicked her temples, streaking dirt across her face. Locus rationed the canteen, tilting it to her lips before taking any himself. “Drink.”
“You first.”
He held it steady. “Partnership. You drink.”
She stared at him a moment before obeying. Then, impulsively, tipped it back to his mouth, letting the water touch his lips from her hand. The contact was intimate, charged. His fingers closed over her wrist, steady but gentle. She snatched her hand back, breath quick.
Before long the terrain shifted again, narrowing into a scarred expanse where the earth looked deceptively smooth. It carried a different menace than the snares behind them, quieter but heavier, asilence that warned of depth beneath the crust.
He suspected he knew what that meant. And sure enough, the pits came next, wide mouths covered by false crusts of earth.
Locus tied a rock to the length of twine and used it to strike the earth, probing, listening to the tone of each strike.
Solid ground thudded. Hollow crust rang false.
He taught her the difference, made her strike once herself until she nodded in grim comprehension.
When the crust collapsed beneath her foot, he caught her with a force that wrenched her against him. Her breath burst out, her face pressed to his shoulder. The darkness beneath gaped, spiked and merciless.
She clutched at his arms, shaking. “If you drop me—”
“I do not drop what is mine.” His voice was low, certain. Their eyes locked, heat flaring between fear and something neither could name. He pulled her up, setting her back on solid earth. He didn’t release her hand after.
By dusk, they reached a narrow ridge between pits.
It was the only defensible ground. Locus drew her close, arranging her against him, her back to his chest, his arms locking around her as night fell.
She resisted for a breath, then yielded, too tired to pretend she didn’t need the warmth or the sleep.
His heartbeat remained steady against her spine, each thud a vow she didn’t ask for but couldn’t ignore.
The air cooled. Crickets chirped. And then, faint clicks rattled the ground. Wires tightening. Springs rearming.
Locus bent his head, his voice quiet against her hair. “Do not move. Night has its own teeth.”
Above them a faint buzz rose, different from the insects in the grass. Locus lifted his head, eyes narrowing. Adrone, small and silver, hovered into view, ared light winking from its lens. Its speakers crackled.
“Entertainment for the crowd,” the voice taunted, amplified and mocking. “Give us something sweet, and we will clear the closest traps for you. Akiss, alien. Show us you want your female.”
Hannah stiffened, her back pressed against his chest, atremor running through her. “They’re watching?” she whispered.
“Affirmative.” His eyes narrowed. “They bait us.”
The drone drifted lower, its camera trained on their faces, the glow of its lens like a hungry eye. Locus’s arm remained locked around her waist, his heat surrounding her. He could smell her pulse, quick and sharp, the mix of fear and something more elusive, more dangerous.
“They want us to kiss,” she said, her tone tight with disbelief, as if saying it aloud might break the spell.
He didn’t answer at once. His hand shifted against her hip, securing her. “If it gives us advantage, we take it.”
Her breath hitched. She twisted just enough to see his face in the fading light. The lines of him were stark, carved from discipline, but his eyes burned, adeep amethyst fire that pinned her in place. The air between them throbbed with awareness.
“You would do it? Here, for them?” Her voice was low, daring him to admit the truth.
“For us,” he corrected. “For survival. But not only that.”
Her lips parted, asharp inhale breaking the tension. He saw the spark of resistance still alive in her, yet it faltered under the power of his gaze. His breath slipped across her cheek, and he watched the distance shrink to nothing, certain she would allow the embrace.
When he kissed her, it wasn’t gentle. It was steady and consuming, aclaiming pressed to her mouth with unyielding certainty.
She gasped into him, the sound caught between protest and need, and his hold tightened, pulling her fully against his body.
Her pulse hammered, her lips softening beneath his, and the world seemed totilt.
The soft lines of her body pressed against his chest and thighs, every curve of her fitted to him through the thin scraps they wore.
He was aware of the slope of her breasts brushing his ribs, the warm press of her hip against his own, the heat radiating from her belly where it met him.
Each contact seared through restraint, his blood answering with a force that rattled his control.
She was fragile in his arms, yet the way she clung made her seem essential, as though her body had already bound itself tohis.
Her hands rose against him, clutching at his shoulders, her grip frantic, as though she sought balance only in him.
Heat surged through his chest and lower, his body answering the pull of her nearness.
He deepened the kiss once, unhurried and intentional, then drew back just enough to let their breaths mingle, foreheads almost touching.
“You are mine to protect,” he said, voice rougher than he intended, as though the truth had been dragged out ofhim.
Her lashes fluttered, cheeks burning. She should have shoved him away. Instead she leaned closer, breathless. “Then do it. Keep me safe.”
His thumb brushed her cheekbone, atender stroke at odds with the steel of his grip. The night hummed around them—traps clicking, distant roars echoing—but all he heard washer harsh breath, while the curve of her pressed to him. Desire coiled, sharp and urgent, barely restrained.
He kissed her again, softer this time, coaxing instead of claiming, as if testing what she would allow.
Hannah’s lips parted willingly now, the edge of resistance fading into something more dangerous: want.
For a long moment, survival and strategy fell away.
There was only them, locked together in the dark, heat burning against heat, afragile truce sealed with akiss.
The drone whirred eagerly, recording every heartbeat of the moment.
Somewhere behind, the crowd roared their approval.
But the noise seemed far away. For Locus, there was only her, the taste of her lips, her heat searing into him, the dizzying certainty that no trap, no predator, no trial could matter more than keeping her alive.
When he finally drew back, the drone gave a satisfied chirp. “Traps to the east cleared,” the voice announced. Then the machine wheeled away, its red eye vanishing into the nightsky.
Hannah’s breath shuddered. She stared at him, eyes wide, lips parted, the faintest tremor running through her. “That was for them,” she whispered, as if reminding herself.
His gaze swept over her face, lingering on her mouth. “No. That was for us.”
Silence wrapped them, but the warmth between them didn’t fade. Locus held her close against his chest, her body fitting to his as though it had always been meant. The danger outside the ridge waited. But for this night, she was in his arms and nothing could touchher.