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I leaned closer, reading over her shoulder. My jaw clenched as the information unfolded before us.

Miggs.

“That lying little worm.” My voice came out colder than I intended.

“Miggs was never just a courier. He infiltrated our organization months ago, working as an informant for the Black Spikes. When we caught him at the Dead Man’s Dock, he was trying to deliver the neural interface tech straight to them. ”

“And then Raxin helped him escape,” Iria concluded, scrolling through more text.

“Exactly. Raxin was supposed to interrogate him, but instead took a bribe and let him walk. Now he’s selling everything he learned while inside our organization.”

“Isn’t Raxin one of your guys?”

“Yes. A senior officer. Someone I trusted.” My voice hardened. “Someone who knew all our operations, our safe houses, our supply routes.”

The deeper we dug, the worse it got. Every route, every supplier, every contact – all compromised.

“Look at this,” Iria pointed at a section of text. “He’s selling information to the Black Spikes.”

I leaned closer, reading the detailed notes Miggs had compiled. “And here—he mentions the research container. He knew exactly what was inside.”

Iria’s eyes widened. “The biological weapons research?”

I nodded grimly. “He’s been feeding them test data. Helping them perfect their weapons.” My fist clenched at my side. “If they develop something that can target our accelerated healing or thermal regulation...”

“They could wipe out the Fangs,” Iria finished quietly. Her body went rigid under my gaze. I read the passage she indicated, fury burning in my chest.

“He’s using my name? Of course he is. That bastard’s been setting me up from the start!” She slammed her fist against the console.

The document detailed how Miggs had carefully constructed a trail of evidence pointing to her as the one who'd stolen the tech and betrayed the Fangs, painting himself as merely following her orders. He'd set Iria up to take the fall if things went wrong.

My Iria.

I focused on controlling my breathing. A hot-headed Vinduthi was dangerous to everyone in their vicinity. “He escaped because someone in my crew was weak enough to take his bribe. I should have seen it coming.”

“This gets worse.” Iria kept reading, her face paling. “He’s documented every deal the Fangs have made in the last six months. Routes, contacts, drop points...”

I understood the implications immediately. “If he sells them the rest of this intel, the Fangs’ operations on Thodos Station will collapse. Our rivals will pick us apart. And they’ll have technology that pinpoints Vinduthi weaknesses.”

“And what about me?” Iria spun in her chair, her face inches from mine. “He’s painting me as the traitor! You think the Spikes will stop at ruining your syndicate? The Fangs will come after me, too.”

Her fear struck me – not for herself, but that I might believe these lies. That I might turn on her.

I met her anger with something I rarely offered: reassurance. “They won’t touch you. I’ll make sure of it.”

Iria studied my face, looking for deceit. Finding none, she nodded once and turned back to the console.

“Looks like Miggs has a meeting scheduled.” She pointed at a time and location. “The Red Nebula, tomorrow night. Some kind of black-market auction.”

“That high-end club in the decommissioned docking ring?” I raised an eyebrow. “Interesting choice.”

“It’s the perfect cover,” Iria explained.

“The Red Nebula is the only upscale establishment in the old Ring—a glittering oasis in the middle of abandoned docking bays and storage facilities. Rich thrill-seekers get the excitement of venturing into the ‘dangerous’ part of the station, but with private security ensuring they never face actual risk.”

“And station security barely monitors that section anymore,” I noted.

“Which makes it perfect for illegal auctions,” Iria countered. “The old maintenance tunnels, derelict docking bays, abandoned storage areas—plenty of places to hide contraband and conduct business away from prying eyes.”

“You know the area well?”

She nodded. “Most smugglers do. When the station expanded its new commercial docking facilities five years ago, they left the old Ring to rot. Perfect for off-registry landings and quick transfers when you don’t want to file flight plans.”

My instinct was to refuse her help – I worked alone, made my own plans. But…

“Fine,” I conceded. “Your setup, my execution.”

Iria nodded, satisfied. She started pulling up maps of the Ring. “We’ll need to be subtle.

She laid out a basic approach, highlighting entry points and potential escape routes. Her plan was solid – better than I expected from a smuggler used to working alone. But as she shut down the decryption program, I noticed her hands trembling slightly.

For all her bravado, she was frightened. Not that I blamed her. The Black Spikes had a reputation for making examples of those who crossed them.

I stepped closer without thinking. “You’re scared.”

Her head snapped up, eyes flashing. “Of course I’m scared! You think I want to spend the rest of my life running from the Black Spikes? Or worse, end up dead because of something I didn’t do?”

There was more vulnerability in that outburst than I’d heard from her before. More truth.

I hesitated, then placed my hand on her shoulder. The gesture felt strange, foreign. When was the last time I’d touched someone with anything but violence? “You’re not running. Not from them. Not from me.”

Her eyes softened and for once, she didn’t pull away from my touch, didn’t throw up those walls she kept so carefully maintained.

My hand lingered longer than it should have. Her skin was warm under my palm. Her pulse quickened – I could hear it. I craved putting my lips against the flutter at her throat.

Iria turned to face me fully, her breath catching. My hand slid from her shoulder to her neck, fingers brushing the soft skin beneath her ear.

“You’re stronger than you think, Iria.”

Her lips parted slightly. “You don’t know me.”

The words held no heat, no challenge. Just a quiet truth.

“I know enough,” I said.

I leaned down slowly, giving her every chance to pull away, to come to her senses. She didn’t. Instead, she raised herself on her toes to meet me halfway.

The kiss surprised me with its softness. Different from our earlier rushed collision, this was deliberate. Her lips sought mine with purpose, with intent. The taste of her – spice and something uniquely human – sent heat through my body.

My fingers tangled in her hair as the kiss deepened. Her hands clutched at my shoulders, nails digging in slightly, awakening instincts I fought to control.

I growled low in my throat, backing her against the console. Her heart hammered against my chest as I lifted her, setting her on the edge. Data streams cast blue shadows across her skin as her legs wrapped around my waist.

“Tell me to stop,” I murmured against her throat.

“Don’t you dare,” she breathed, pulling me impossibly closer.

Her hands explored my bare chest, curious and demanding. Her palms splayed flat against my skin, feeling the heat rising from me.

“You’re burning up,” she whispered.

“Vinduthi run hot,” I replied.

Her gaze traveled over the markings that curved down the left side of my torso, a mirror to those on my face. Without breaking eye contact, she pulled off her tank, revealing pale skin and the curves I’d tried not to notice these past days.

When her fingers traced the markings on my chest, I nearly lost my tenuous control. Every nerve ending lit up under her touch.

“Does it hurt when I touch them?” she asked.

“No.” My voice came out rougher than intended. “The opposite.”

Her eyes widened at the implications. Then, with deliberate slowness, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to the marking over my heart.

The sensation broke something in me. I captured her mouth again, more demanding this time, my hands exploring the smooth skin of her back, her sides. She melted against me, her body pliant yet somehow still defiant.

Her hands found the clasp of my belt, fingers deft even in her urgency. I caught her wrists, pulling back just enough to see her face.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

She met my gaze without flinching. “Do I look unsure?”

“You’ll regret this,” I warned, though I made no move to release her. “I’m not what you want, Iria.”

“I stopped getting what I wanted a long time ago.” She freed one hand from my grasp and placed it on my cheek, an unexpectedly tender gesture. “Maybe it’s time I take something for myself anyway.”

Her words cut through my defenses more effectively than any weapon. I released her other wrist, surrendering to whatever this was between us.

My hands slid up her sides, savoring the contrast of my gray skin against her fairness. When I brushed the underside of her breast, she inhaled sharply.

I kissed my way down her neck, across her collarbone, learning the map of her body with my lips. She arched into my touch, wordless sounds of pleasure escaping her lips.

The taste of her set my blood on fire, awakening desires I’d denied for too long. My arms encircled her waist, lifting her slightly as I plundered her mouth. She responded with equal fervor, her fingers digging into my shoulders.

For once, I stopped calculating, stopped planning. There was only Iria, warm and alive in my arms, kissing me as if tomorrow might never come.

And for us, it might not.