Page 39

He eased onto the divan beside her and sat, boots crossed at the ankle, all muscle and sinewed power, radiating his irresistible energy.

His shoulder touched hers in the silence, as space folded beyond the glass.

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to that dark velvet rumble she felt in her bones. ‘How about I make you forget what’s on your mind, mi reina ?’

She turned her head to face his gaze, heat, and undeniable sensuality.

She ought to have resisted; she should have walked away.

Instead, she let him pull her into his clasp.

He lifted her, arms around her waist, and led her away.

His strength enveloped her, like forged steel, his scent all spice and danger, and the ache inside her dulled just a little.

He didn’t speak, he just tucked her into him in a lover’s grasp.

The door slid open as they reached his quarters, and the tension snapped.

Their lips found each other, wild and needing. Fingers tangled in hair, clothes tugged in desperation, mouths moving like they had no time left.

Her back hit the wall just inside the door, and she let out a breathless sound, half gasp, part laugh, then kissed him again, deeper this time.

Just a few more times, she told herself.

Even as she thought it, she knew it was a lie.

XANDER

The morning came heavy, coiled with unease and fragments of everything unsaid.

Xander rose early, pulled on his dark uniform, his eyes on the woman still asleep in his bed. Or pretending to be.

Either way, her reticence had serrated edges, and he felt every single one.

Xander left her sleeping, the sheets tangled around her thighs like a silken barricade. The worry crowded his mind louder than the scrape of his boots across the floor.

When he stepped into the mess, he was already strung tight, nerves flaring like exposed wire.

The place was busy, a hum of voices and cutlery over breakfast trays.

He made a cup of kahawa , black, bitter, as harsh as his mood, and slouched into a corner, his commtab open in front of him.

Updates scrolled past: recon reports, internal comm logs, patrol checks. All noise. All background static to the knot in his gut.

Salvadore needed breaking.

The alien infiltration had to be traced.

And Savvine.

Fokk , Savvine.

He was still trying to decode what the hell had shifted between them.

One minute, mewling and hungry for him, limbs wrapped around his waist, holding on like he was her whole universe.

The next, cool detachment and polite nods like he was a stranger she hardly knew.

It burned.

He stared into his kahawa , jaw flexing just as the air shifted.

He didn’t even need to turn. He sensed her enter the mess.

Unable to resist the temptation anymore, he glanced her way.

She was dressed in Signet black, tactical, tight-fitted, efficient.

Fokk, she was stunning.

The suit hugged the curve of her tits and hip, and molded to her waist like it had been cut for her alone.

Her hair swept back into a twist and was immaculate, with a few tendrils brushing her jaw.

Her makeup was minimal, just enough to highlight her jade eyes and define the arch of her mouth.

She appeared commanding, her energy closed off and unreachable, in max Chief Bianchi mode.

It wasn’t just her beauty.

It was her bearing. The way she carried herself with confidence and command.

Even the strongest among the Signet guard, men who walked through fire with him, stepped aside as she passed. Not out of fear, but reverence.

Heads turned, and Xander caught each flick of a gaze, every respectful nod that lingered a second too long.

Hell, it sparked a primal savagery, a possessiveness that surged and roiled inside him.

He gritted his jaw, hands flexing at his sides, tamping it down.

Although he’d marked her, she wasn’t his, not until she chose to mark him too.

Which meant there was no label to describe whateverthefokk they were.

Still, the sight of her, moving through his domain like she’d always belonged, struck him like a gut punch.

It was too soon, yet he wanted to raise his head and howl to the ceiling, to claim her publicly as his, despite his fears and doubts.

The looks she drew churned up a territorial instinct inside him that compelled his soul to ache.

Xander couldn’t take his eyes off her, so he stood and prowled toward her.

She was at the buffet line when he approached.

‘Savvine,’ he rasped, catching her elbow.

She turned, offering him a smile. Cool. Controlled. A perfect diplomatic mask.

It gutted him.

‘Woke up OK?’

She nodded, then glanced back at her tray.

He choked back a curse.

He’d refused to let her subdued energy bother him last night.

He’d made love to her, savoring the opportunity to be the utmost giver of sensual pleasure.

She’d responded, rocking into him, snaking her limbs around him, trembling as she came.

When she fell deep asleep, her unconscious reach for him was what he desired the same of in daylight, but it was not to be.

She was putting up walls, and he loathed it.

He leaned in, keeping his voice to a murmur. ‘Thirty minutes at the brig? We need to get onto the Lombardis as soon as possible so we know how to plan next steps.’

‘OK,’ she replied.

It was too neat an answer.

He paused, searching her face. ‘Anything you want to say to me, Savvine?’

Her inhale caught, just a fraction, then she shook her head. ‘ Nada .’

His jaw ticked. ‘Don’t fokkin ’ lie to me.’

The growl slipped out before he could temper it, and her eyes widened, surprise flashing in green-gold.

He cursed under his breath and pulled his savage back.

‘ Mi cielo ,’ he said, softer now. ‘You can talk to me, tell me what’s on your heart.’

A flicker of emotion appeared in her eyes, too brief, gone in seconds, replaced with a polite, heart-wrenching smile.

‘I’ll make a note of it.’

With that, she walked away. Graceful, impeccable, untouchable.

Xander tracked her, fists clenched, pulse thundering like he’d just taken a hit to the gut.

He glanced around and saw a few curious glances from the crew.

He rolled his shoulders, lifted his kahawa , and prowled to the far side of the mess like none of it mattered.

But fokk , it did.

When she and Miral met outside the brig a half hour later, Savvine made no eye contact with him, just clipped nods and businesslike strides as the tension between them turned taut.

He reached for her arm as they walked.

She barely glanced at him, trying to pull away.

He held firm for a second longer than necessary, his fingers lingering before letting go.

What the hell had changed?

She was all smiles a day or two ago, all warmth and surrender.

Now, she was icy cool and guarded.

His jaw ticked. He didn’t have time to unravel her contradictions.

Not until later.

They descended into the lower decks of the Sombra , where the maximum security prison sprawled over three extensive decks.

The cells were old-school containment chambers with thick steel mesh doors, magnetic locks, and reinforced alloy walls with residual marks from past prisoners.

It wasn’t pretty or high-tech.

It didn’t need to be. It was meant to hold dangerous things, not comfort them.

The stench of regret still lived here, somewhere between the stale recirculated air and rusted floor grates.

A few of Salvadore Lombardi’s capos had already been extracted from holding and were waiting for them in an interrogation room.

The first two sweated through their stories with impressive consistency.

The third was a bit shaky, but confirmed the key facts: Eugene promised immunity to any house that helped take down Signet.

Xander crossed his arms, watching them all with the impassive stillness of someone who buried worse men than these.

Then Salvadore was brought in.

The Don of the Lombardi house looked less puffed-up today, more drawn, his bravado frayed around the edges. His shirt clung damply to his back, collar open, chest heaving with defeat.

At first, Xander didn’t say a word; he just let his golden-violet gaze burn through the bastard.

Miral glimmered beside him, in her layered suit of living code. Her noid cloud was already flickering like silver threads encircling her.

Savvine stood tall at his other side, impassive but unreadable.

She didn’t look at Xander once.

He shrugged, refusing to indulge his growing annoyance at her reticence.

Xander stepped toward the Don.

‘You’ve got one chance to convince us not to throw you out of an airlock and into the void,’ he grated. ‘Start talking.’

Salvadore glared at him, then glanced at Savvine, his mouth twisting. ‘Ever the executioner, wolf king.’

Xander didn’t blink. ‘ Sante for the flattery. Now speak. Last warning lest I unleash my friend Miral on you.’

The Synth AI didn’t move, didn’t breathe.

However, a shimmer of light bloomed across her shoulder like liquid glass. Followed by the sudden emergence of noids from the air.

They formed into a sleek storm of glittering threads curling around her body.

The tendrils reached for Salvadore, promising untold horror.

The Don flinched.

‘ Va bene , porca miseria , I’ll talk,’ he spat. ‘We were strong-armed. All of us. Eugene said he’d bomb every one of fokkin ’ clans into oblivion if we didn’t strike at Signet.’

Savvine jolted. ‘Eugene?’

‘ Sí . He’s behind all this, he and Helena.’

‘ Fokk .’

While Savvine took in the Don’s confession, Xander narrowed his eyes. ‘He got you to attack his ship, then come after Signet? Why?’

Salvadore shook his head. ‘The attack on Bianchi vessels was a foil for the real prize, Signet, but he didn’t say why you. He just alluded to the fact that you were the biggest threat. The most likely to fight back.’

Savvine, shaking with wrath, leaned into the mob boss’s face. ‘What of the Lombardi-Bianchi feud?’

The Don’s lip twisted. ‘He paid us well to end it, secretly. Publicly, we were to keep the ruse and use it to cover up our fake attacks on the Bianchis. The Odalon was just a ruse to lure Signet into the game. The schills to build a new frigate were meant to divert away from the fact that he’s coming after you, Alexandr.’

‘A ploy?’ Savvine snarled. ‘You got people killed.’

‘We had no choice. He and Helena and something nasty for sure.’

Xander shared a glance with Savvine, who trembled with fury.

Then Salvadore added, almost as an afterthought. ‘He’s not the real Eugene, and I know who controls him.’

Xander stiffened.

‘Explain.’

The Don swallowed. ‘The Eugene now running the Eterna is not a Bianchi. It’s some synth facsimile, an alien autobot version of him. Created by some outer-rim freaks called the Crats. Helena mentioned them in passing during a meet-up.’

Miral went dead still.

Xander sensed her stiffen beside him, turned his head to see her form shimmering in agitation, her noids pulsing with erratic energy.

He opened his mouth and was about to question her when, without warning, she vanished mid-pulse, scattering a burst of noid trails in her wake.

Savvine gasped. ‘The hell?’

Xander swore under his breath and pinged his neural node, trying to reach Miral.

Nada .

He got zero response. Not even a trace signature.

The mention of the Crats , whatever or whoever they were, had shaken Miral so much she’d fled.

Where to?

Xander took an inhale. Damn, the problem was worse than they imagined.

‘Salvadore,’ Xander snapped, rounding on the Don. ‘Who or what the fokk are the Crats?’

The mob boss paled, shaken by Miral’s sudden disappearance.

‘I don’t know. I swear. I heard the name once.

That’s it. However, if you think we started this war, you’re mistaken.

The fake Eugene did, on the behest of the crats.

He’s the one who made the threats, launched those drones, and provided us with the Hades and Oedipus missiles. ’

Xander studied him for a long moment. ‘That’s quite the accusation.’

‘ è vero ! You must believe me, or we all die in the Wildlight without reaching Pegasi!’

The Signet head shook his head at the Don’s impassioned cry, then nodded once to a guard. ‘Get him out of here. Keep him locked until I say otherwise.’

As one of the corrections officers dragged the Don away, protesting, Xander rubbed a hand over his jaw, his thoughts spinning like burning cogs.

He tried again to reach Miral, using a direct neural link, an encrypted back channel, and even her ghost tag.

Still nothing.

That was when he swiveled to find Savvine staring out of the cell’s porthole at the beautiful, cold starlight of Pegasi’s celestial skies, millions of klicks away.

He swallowed the ache at her stunning appearance, even as she turned with a strained expression. ‘Xander, what in perdition is going down on our watch?’