Page 46

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The ascent hammered against Rose’s ears, metal shrieking against rock, vibration rattling through her bones. The clamor diminished to a steady thrum, and through the small portholes, the absolute darkness ignited.

Blinding white light.

Her pulse kicked. They’d cleared the shuttle tunnel.

The Kalahari stretched out before her, a searing, endless wasteland. After the tight, pressurized corridors of the Io, it felt unreal. Her body still braced for the crushing presence of the water, the bone-deep cold.

Desert sunlight slashed through the portholes, obliterating all shadows. After the artificial twilight of the Io, the glare needled her eyes. She squinted, raising a hand to shield her face. Around her, the crew did the same, faces contorted in discomfort.

The engine’s pitch dropped to an idle, then silence.

“We’re clear,” Ethan said.

“Thank Christ,” Luca muttered, unclipping his harness with a groan. He stretched, bones audibly popping. “If I see so much as a speck of dust moving on its own, I’m torching this whole damn desert.”

The docking clamps protested, metal grinding against metal. Outside, voices barked orders, boots crunched over the hard-packed earth, equipment clattered.

Rose blinked, the blazing white scouring her skin after the abyss of the Dragon’s Breath. Was Thea here? Had she made it to this world of heat and noise, so violently opposed to the suffocating confines of the Io?

A barb of unease pricked up her spine. A loose thread she couldn’t quite grasp.

Rose exhaled sharply, pushing the thought away. The bombs were disarmed. They had brought the Io crew to safety.

That’s what mattered.

She climbed out of the shuttle, her legs unsteady.

Nik and Cade were outside moving through the medical team like predators among sheep, their fitted black tactical gear a crisp contrast to the paramedics’ loose white clothing. Had it really only been days since she first met them? Time had stretched, distorted in the darkness below.

A paramedic caught her elbow as she stumbled on the sunbaked ground.

“Easy.” He motioned to the nearest waiting ambulance. “Let’s get you checked out.”

The desert sun stabbed at her eyes and fine red sand caught in the breeze hissed against her skin. But the dry, searing heat? So good.

She tilted her face upward, soaking it up. Only now did she acknowledge how deeply she’d doubted she’d make it back alive.

“Hey.”

The voice snapped her attention sideways.

Finn.

He pushed forward, eyes locked on hers. “I’m going with her.”

The paramedic opened his mouth to argue, but Finn’s expression shut him down before a word escaped.

Goosebumps formed on her bare skin. It wasn’t just what he said—it was how he said it. Like there was no question, no reality in which he wasn’t by her side. Heat woke low in her belly, obliterating the hollow fear she’d carried for days. She had fallen for this rugged wolf in the dark. But here, in the brutal light of day, there was no hiding from her feelings.

This was real.

The paramedic hesitated, then gave a clipped nod and stepped aside.

Finn climbed in after her, the doors clanging shut behind him. He settled beside her. She leaned into him, pressing her ear against his chest. The steady thump of his heartbeat moored her to reality. Safe. She was safe.

They all were. Weren’t they?

The next few hours dissolved into a series of fractured moments. They were driven to a single-storey hospital painted pale yellow. Vital signs checked, questions answered, forms signed. After the hospital cleared her, a driver transported her and Finn to a hotel on the outskirts of the town while the rest of the wolves mobilized back to their camp at the Dragon’s Breath entrance.

She climbed out of the car on unsteady legs with Finn while the driver hurried inside to confirm rooms. The late afternoon sun had softened to amber, casting long shadows across the hotel’s facade but heat waves still distorted the air.

Pale stone walls rose in elegant arches, white muslin curtains billowing from the windows above her head. In the cool gloom of the hotel’s reception area, she waited with Finn, letting her eyes adjust. Heavy wooden doors adorned with intricate ironwork opened onto a square courtyard. The high-pitched chirp of small birds drifted through the open doorway, mingling with the gentle splash of a central fountain. Flowers dangled from terracotta pots. Shocking pink, vivid purple. Bright colors vibrant with life.

“Dr. Wyndham.” The receptionist, a tall man in a crisp white dashiki, held out a key with a red tassel. “Your room is prepared.” His English carried a musical lilt.

Rose took the key and the white envelope he handed her. The message inside was brief. Margaret would arrive tomorrow.

She showed the note to Finn.

He took it, crumpling it in his fist. “Fucking widow.”

Thea’s research still lay locked away in the Io. Secrets better left buried.Yet soon, they’d be forced to unearth them.

“Come on.” His hand settled at the small of her back. “Let’s get you upstairs.”

They took the elevator in silence, Rose leaning against him, fatigue seeping into her bones. The corridor stretched ahead, the thick carpet muffling their footsteps .

“This is your room.” Finn slid the credit-card sized key into the lock. The door swung open.

He turned to her, his eyes soft with concern. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering. “Get cleaned up. Rest. I’ll be next door if you need anything.”

The door closed behind him with a subdued click, leaving her alone.

The room was spacious. A massive white bed. Open French windows letting in the scented evening air. On the dressing table, a silver bucket of flowers with a card tucked beside it.

Rose picked up the card, turning it over in her fingers. The script was embossed, an elegant touch meant to imply sincerity.

Compliments of the OSC.

Her chin dipped.

How thoughtful . A lethal experiment, a cover-up, and now flowers. Like that erased the damage done to the crew or Luca and Finn’s injuries. Like that made any of it right.

She flipped the card over and left it facedown.

The pain in her head had dulled to a whisper, leaving room for other sensations to surface. She crossed to the window, letting the evening breeze skim her skin. Her skin was hypersensitive. Heated.

But not from the air.

From the man in the room next to hers.

Finn.

As the older sister, she’d spent years trying to be the fixer, the responsible one. Countless nights lying awake, strategizing ways to bridge the chasm between herself and Thea. But tonight, she wanted to claim something for herself. Something that couldn’t be measured in data points or family obligations .

The plastic edge of the room key dug into her palm as she stepped into the hall. Her feet carried her to his door before her mind could marshal its usual defenses. She raised her hand, pulse thrumming in her fingertips.

What if he turned her away?

The thought terrified her, but it wasn’t enough to make her retreat. She was tired of living in the shadow of Thea’s betrayal, of measuring her life against past wounds. And if science had taught her anything, it was sometimes the most significant discoveries came from taking risks.

She wanted to be seen not just as Dr. Rose Wyndham, scientist, but as a woman with desires she’d kept locked away for far too long.

Her knuckles met the door with three sharp raps before doubt could paralyze her.

The door swung open and her breath stalled, caught between one heartbeat and the next.

Dear God.

He filled the doorway like a force of nature, raw power radiating from his frame. Something primitive stirred deep in her belly in response. He’d discarded the sling, his injured arm now marked only by a dressing, white against his bruised skin.

She couldn’t help herself.

Her gaze tracked downward, drinking in the sight of him. The lean muscles of his chest, the sharp cut of his hip bones where his combat trousers rode dangerously low, turning her mouth dry.

His eyes were smoldering black coal as he stepped backward on bare feet, inviting her in.

Rose swallowed hard.

And stepped inside.