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Taking a breath that scraped raw through his chest, he keyed in the coordinates, locking in the route.

As navigation systems came online, vibrating under his feet, asteady thrum that sounded too loud against the silence in his head, he watched the path plot itself across the nav-screen, every light flickering into place.

There was no turning back now. Elaros was set.

And so was the clock counting down what little time he hadleft.

Without pausing, Riv’En keyed into the comms system, opening a secured channel to Third and Anya. His fingers hovered for a beat over the console before he pressed send. The message wasn’tlong.

“Riv’En. Heading to Elaros. Maya recovered, but my Final Flight is accelerating.

If I fall before arrival, she will need extraction.

Request meeting at Elaros to take her if necessary.

” If necessary? The words echoed back in his mind, sharper than any weapon he’d ever wielded. If. It wasn’t if. It waswhen.

The words came thicker than the steady throb dragging beneath his skin.

He knew they would understand that if he did not survive the trip, it would fall to them to protect her.

That if he died, she might die with him.

That this was not just a request. It was the last thing he could do to make sure she wasn’t left alone in the void he would leave behind.

He sent the message and closed the channel. Now all that was left was waiting.

His reflection flickered in the navigation screen, dark eyes that no longer glowed violet, long black hair falling loose around a face clearly inhuman.

He studied the faded metallic sheen of his skin, as if the man he remembered had already disappeared.

Beneath the surface, the signs were unmistakable: awarrior in Final Flight.

One heartbeat from shutting down forgood.

He stayed there in silence, watching the stars realign around them, every breath scraping a little harder through his chest. And through it all, one thought kept circling back, louder than the engines, sharper than the ache in his ribs: Maya.

Her name. Her scent. The quiet, steady reassurance of her presence connecting him through the bond.

He wasn’t just holding on for himself. He was holding on forher.

Because he wasn’t just flying to Elaros for himself.

He was flying there to leave Maya somewhere safe before he couldn’t anymore.

Maya’s voice broke through the silence, soft and uncertain. “Riv’En?”

His hands froze on the console.

He didn’t turn immediately. He couldn’t.

He sat there in the pilot’s seat, eyes fixed on the navigation screen, using that single focus to hold himself steady.

The stars ahead of them stretched in pale, shifting lines.

Earth was no longer in view. Not just physically but as a choice, as a future.

If he looked at her now, he might waver. And there was no room forthat.

A breath scraped through his lungs. Cautious. Steady. Or close enough.

He heard her footsteps come closer before he sensed her presence. Quiet. Careful. Like she already knew something wasn’t right.

“Why isn’t Earth in the window?”

Her voice was a breath away, laced with confusion and something sharper beneath it.

Worry, yes, but also something more layered.

He could hear it in her tone now that she was so near, the edge of panic restrained by stubborn containment, the first thread of understanding that whatever was happening wasn’t temporary or small.

It wasn’t about location. It was aboutthem.

Riv’En closed his eyes for a brief second, locking down the storm in his chest before he spoke. It wasn’t just emotion. It was physical, atight knot under his ribs, heat building beneath his skin until his blood ran hotter than it should.

His hands ached with the effort to keep still, knuckles whitening against the console.

His breath came thicker, dragging at his lungs.

It wasn’t just about finding the words. It was about tempering the urge to turn toward her too soon.

To take her hands. To pull her in and hold her there because it would be easier than saying it out loud. But he couldn’t afford easy. Notnow.

“We left,” he said finally. His voice sounded like it belonged to someone else. Rougher. Harder.

Silence stretched, oppressive and tight.

She stopped just behind him, the heat of her presence brushing up against the back of his neck like a live wire.

Every part of his body registered her now—the subtle hitch in her breath, the faint, restless shift as she stood there, not quite touching coming close.

The bond pulsed faintly between them, quiet and steady, areminder that she wasn’t just standing there confused.

She was waiting for an answer he wasn’t ready togive.

“We left?” Maya said when he didn’t speak, disbelief threading through the words. “Why?”

His fingers tightened on the console, the surface warming beneath his palms as internal heat flared beneath hisskin.

The explanation came flat. Absolute. “We are going to Elaros,” Riv’En said, voice steady but iron-edged.

He didn’t just mean it as a location. It was a destination carved into his bones now, as unavoidable as Final Flight itself.

Acourse locked not just in the ship’s navigation but in his own blood, because there was nowhere else left forthem.

“Elaros,” she repeated slowly, like she was tasting it for the first time. “That’s your mother’s planet, isn’t it? You said before you were half Elaroin.”

Riv’En finally turned.

She stood just inside the bridge, hair mussed from sleep, wearing nothing but one of his shirts, hanging off her frame like a flag surrendered to the wind. Her eyes met his and locked there, sharp and too-blue.

“It is my mother’s planet,” he said. “Or was, since I do not believe she still lives. We will be safer there.”

Her brows pulled together. “Why? What’s wrong with Earth?”

He said nothing. Didn’t move. The import of what he had to tell her sat like lead in his chest, heavier than any weapon he’d ever carried.

Not just because of what it meant for him, but because of what it meant for her.

That her life was now entwined with his in a way that neither of them could undo, no matter how much he might want to protect her from it. And there was no easy way to sayit.

Maya’s gaze dropped to his hands. The skin there was darker now, not just from shadow, but from Final Flight claiming him cell by cell. Her breath caught, her eyes widening as she realized what she was seeing. Her gaze flicked back up to his face, silent, not panicked yet—but aware.

She started to reach for him, then froze, caught between reflex and denial.

His fingers hovered over the console, twitching once, twice, as if fighting an invisible mass pressing down on them.

That tremor wasn’t just exhaustion. It was the storm under his skin breaking through his management, and for the first time, he knew she sawit.

Her voice softened. “Riv’En. What’s happening?”

He stood then, every inch of him rigid, but restrained. Steady. He crossed to her in two measured steps, stopping just close enough that the heat of her skin scoredhim.

“I am in Final Flight.” The words escaped in a blunt statement, like a blade dulled by too manycuts.

Maya went still. Her lips parted on a quiet exhale. “I know,” she whispered, voice tight. “You’ve explained that to me. But—”

He cut her off before she could say more. “It is accelerating. Faster than I expected.”

Her breath hitched. Her hands curled into fists again, knuckles white. “Riv’En...” Her voice cracked, not just with fear but from knowing something irreversible had shifted between them. Her eyes searched his, wild and desperate. “This is real? It’s already happening?”

He stepped in closer, forcing himself to meet her eyes. Forcing himself to say it. “And you... you are bonded to me.”

Her lips parted on a sharp inhale. Maya didn’t speak right away. Her eyes searched his face as if trying to make sense of what he’d just said, of what it meant. Her pulse fluttered in her throat, visible in a quick, uneven rhythm.

“Bonded,” she repeated, voice cracking on the word. “You mean... it’s real. It’s permanent.”

Riv’En gave a single nod. “Yes. It cannot be undone.”

Her breath left her in a rough exhale. One hand lifted to her collarbone, fingers brushing over her Mating Flame, tracing the faint pulse there.

“And if you...” she started, voice faltering. “If you fall—”

“If I fall,” he said quietly, cutting in before she could finish, “you may fall with me.”

Maya froze. Her breath caught mid-inhale, the movement visible in the tense line of her throat.

Her eyes widened, sharp with panic that wasn’t spoken yet, but clear in the rigid set of her shoulders.

Riv’En watched her, the weight of that reaction settle in his chest. It wasn’t new.

It wasn’t a surprise. But seeing her process it now, so direct and unshielded, made it sharper than before.

Her face went pale. “What does that mean?”

He didn’t sugarcoat it.

“It means if I die, you may die with me. Because of the bond.”

Maya’s breath caught and she shook her head, her pale hair tumbling about her shoulders in disarray. “Then we fix it,” she said, voice already climbing. “We go back to Earth, we find someone, we—”

“No.” His voice cut through the air, quiet and absolute. “There is no Earth anymore. There is only Elaros. We go to Elaros so they can protect you if I’m unable to.”

She stepped closer, eyes shining, her pulse hammering through the bond, ahot, sharp throb that gripped him tighter than her hands ever could. “You can’t just decide that for both of us. Idon’t care about planets or protocols or Final Flight—Icare about you. I’m not leaving you.”