Page 10

Chapter

Ten

Tivek

M y instinct screamed to run, but experience told me movement would only draw attention. Morgan tensed behind me. I could feel it without seeing her. I could hear her breathing quicken with fear.

"Pull up your hood," I whispered, turning to face her. "Now."

We both yanked our hoods into position, the environmental suits' cloaking technology rendering our heads nearly invisible, leaving only our faces exposed through the small viewing panel.

"Keep your head down," I commanded. "Don't look up, no matter what happens."

She nodded, but I recognized the telltale signs of panic in her eyes and the way her gaze kept darting upward despite my instructions. When the ship passed directly overhead, her curiosity or fear might overcome her training.

I did the only thing I could think of as we crouched in the marsh.

I took her face between my hands and pressed my forehead against hers, forcing her to lock eyes with me.

The ship's engines rose from a distant hum to a deafening roar as it descended, hovering so close that the heat from its exhaust penetrated our suits, sending beads of sweat trickling down my spine.

Morgan trembled against me, her eyes wide with terror, but I held her gaze steadily, willing her to focus only on me, not on the danger that lurked above us.

But as I stared into the shrewd blue eyes that had fascinated me from the first moment I'd noticed her in the academy Stacks, something unexpected happened.

The world around me seemed to recede, the roaring engines fading to a distant murmur.

Time slowed, stretched, and became almost meaningless.

I allowed myself, just for a stolen moment, to imagine a different reality.

One where I wasn't a Shadow and didn't live a life of required deception.

A world where I could tell Morgan everything about myself, where I could trust her with every secret I carried.

A world where I could pull her close not out of necessity but desire.

She leaned into me, perhaps seeking stability as the ship's engines rattled the ground beneath us, and I instinctively wrapped my arm around her waist to steady her. The simple contact, even through our suits, sent an electric jolt through my body.

Then her eyes fluttered closed, and her body went slack in my arms.

Reality crashed back into focus with brutal force. The Kronock ship still hovered above us, its engines turning the swamp water into churning froth, but my attention was entirely on Morgan, who had lost consciousness in my arms.

I couldn't move, couldn't call her name, couldn't do anything that might alert the ship to our presence. All I could do was hold her, one arm supporting her back, the other wrapped around her waist, as I silently begged her to be all right.

After what felt like an eternity, the roar of the ship's engines lessened. The ebony marsh grass around us began to still, the water's surface calming as the patrol moved on. Only when the sound had diminished to a distant rumble did I allow myself to lower Morgan gently to the ground.

"You're fine, you're fine, you're fine," I whispered, a desperate mantra as I pulled back her hood and gently patted her cheeks. My hands shook as I checked her pulse, relief washing through me at the steady rhythm beneath my fingertips and the rise and fall of her chest.

"Morgan," I said, louder now that the danger had passed. "Morgan, wake up."

Terror gripped me as I waited for her response. I'd lost operatives before and lost friends and colleagues to the dangers of our work, but the thought of losing this brilliant, perceptive woman sent panic clawing up my throat.

Her eyelids fluttered, then opened. Confusion clouded her expression as she glanced around at the alien swamp, then back to me.

"Why am I on the ground?" she asked, her voice slightly slurred.

A choked laugh escaped me, half relief and half lingering fear. "You lost consciousness."

Her cheeks flushed a delicate pink as she rubbed her forehead.

"I locked my knees," she admitted. "Didn't want to sway and give us away.

" She gave a weak laugh. "I should have known better.

I was a bridesmaid once where the girl next to me did the same thing and face-planted right in front of the altar. "

I wasn't entirely sure what a bridesmaid was, but her embarrassment was endearingly human. More importantly, she was alive, talking, and seemingly unharmed. The tightness in my chest eased slightly.

Part of me was relieved that her fainting had interrupted the dangerous intimacy we'd shared. Yet another part ached for that connection again, for that moment when the universe had narrowed down to just the two of us.

I helped her to her feet, steadying her when she swayed slightly. "The Kronock must have multiple patrols out," I said, retreating to the safety of mission talk. "At least we know our suits work."

Morgan touched her own arm, which was nearly invisible against the murky backdrop of the swamp. "Drexian technology continues to impress me."

"We should keep moving," I said, turning to resume our journey.

Her hand on my arm stopped me, the touch gentle but impossible to ignore. When I turned back, she was looking at me with a seriousness that made my breath catch.

"Thank you," she said simply. "For keeping me calm. For catching me when I fell."

My throat tightened as I stared into her eyes, remembering how it felt to hold her, to have her so close. I wanted to tell her that I would always catch her and that I would do anything to keep her safe, but the words stuck in my throat.

"Of course," I managed gruffly, the inadequacy of the response burning in my chest.

As we trudged onward through the marsh, I found myself touching the spot on my arm where her hand had rested, the sensation lingering. I forced my mind back to the mission, to the friends we needed to rescue, and to my brother languishing in a Kronock prison.

I couldn't afford to be distracted again, not even by the glimpse of a future I desperately desired but couldn't have. Not when lives depended on my focus, my training, and my discipline. Not when Morgan depended on me.