Page 10

Chapter10

TOR’VEK CROUCHED over Anya, his body a solid wall between her and the creatures that prowled the wreckage below. His rij vibrated softly against his wrist, feeding him raw environmental data, but he barely needed the input. Instinct—hot, violent, twisting under his skin—already told him everything he needed toknow.

They were not Marauders.

The ship’s scan confirmed it. Primitive hominids. Low intelligence. Minimal technology. But numerous, opportunistic, and dangerously unpredictable.

Tor’Vek exhaled slowly through his nose, the heat of rage prickling under his skin, his muscles twitching with the roaring impulse to rise and crush them all. Every muscle in his body vibrated with restraint, adam straining against the flood of fury unleashed insidehim.

Beneath him, Anya shifted, her body sweeping against his. The light contact seared across his awareness, abrand of heat against the cold steel of hisrage.

She made a soft, broken sound—half whimper, half gasp—and he realized with brutal clarity that she was fighting her ownwar.

Lust.

The bond between them pulsed, alow throb that matched the frantic pace of her heartbeat. Her scent—sharp with fear and sweeter with craving—hit him hard, scraping against the frayed edges of his control.

His fists curled into the dirt, fingers digging into the broken soil as he forced himself to stay motionless. Protection was paramount. Logic demanded it. But his body—the primitive, brutal core of him—wanted something else entirely.

To seize. To claim. Tomark.

His jaw locked. His rij chimed quietly again, drawing him back from the edge. Environmental threat: Moderate. Recommend immediate disengagement or escalation of deterrent force.

He chose.

Subvocalizing the command, he triggered the rij’s defensive pulse.

A soft, invisible shockwave rippled out from the ship, triggered remotely by Tor’Vek’s command through his rij, carrying a frequency calibrated to disrupt nervous systems without causing lastingharm.

Below them, the hominids shrieked—araw, animal sound—and scattered in a chaotic tangle of limbs and hoarse cries. Some fled into the dense foliage. Others dropped to the ground, writhing briefly before scrambling to escape.

The tension in the air fractured, the immediate threat scattering like dust on thewind.

But the tension inside him did notease.

It sharpened.

He shifted his weight subtly, his body still covering Anya, his hand flattening instinctively against her lower back to keep her in place.

She trembled beneath him, her small frame vibrating with need and terror, her pulse a frantic drum against his senses.

Tor’Vek closed his eyes for a heartbeat, wrestling his instincts back into theircage.

They weresafe.

Fornow.

But if he stayed this close to her much longer, safe would mean surrendering to the violent, ravenous need tearing through him—aneed that might shatter both of them beyond repair.

He forced himself to lift his head, scanning the clearing with sharp, ruthless precision. No more movement among the wreckage. The primitive creatures were in full retreat, their disorganized ranks broken.

The rij fed him new data: the environmental scan was complete. Terrain mapped. Immediate threats catalogued. No other life signs within kilometers.

Good.

Tor’Vek subvocalized a new command, pulling a streamlined map overlay onto his visual field. There were scattered depressions and fissures farther out—possible natural shelters—but none offered the defensive integrity of the ship itself.

Returning was the logical choice—but even as he clung to strategy, the searing bond between them eroded logic with every pulse, dragging him closer to a breaking point he could no longer ignore.

He shifted his attention back to Anya. Her body still trembled under his hands, her skin hot through the thin fabric separating them. Her breathing was shallow, ragged, her body trembling with feverish heat as the craving gnawed at what little strength she hadleft.

“We are returning to the ship,” he said, his voice rough with restraint. “It offers better protection.” His hand tightened fractionally against her spine. “You will stay close.”

She nodded, ajerky movement, her eyes wide and luminous in the dim light. He could see the struggle etched into every line of her body. Her craving clawed at her, just as his rage gnawed athim.

It would be a race—one that would end with either survival or surrender, with their bodies lost to need and their minds swallowed by thebond.

Which would break first: their bodies—or their wills?

Without another word, Tor’Vek rose, hauling her against him with rough urgency, the suppressed desire vibrating through his every movement. Holding her was agony—the searing heat of her body pressed against his, the scent of her pheromones thick in the air, each ragged breath from her mouth scraping over his control like a blade. Every instinct demanded he take, possess, claim—but he forced himself to move, to endure, knowing that surrender would be absolute. Her arms wrapped around his neck instinctively, her legs gripping his hips as he lifted her completely.

The instant their bodies locked together, the bond surged—ajolt of pure, electric need slamming through them both. Their heartbeats thundered in wild synchrony, muscles seizing with the force of restraint. Heat poured off their bodies, ablinding, urgent energy that made Tor’Vek’s vision blur for a heartbeat.

Every inch of Anya’s soft, trembling form molded against his hardened frame, fanning the firestorm roaring through him. The bond howled in his blood, demanding more, demanding everything, as they clung to the shreds of control slipping fast from their grasp.

Anya choked on a soft cry, burying her face against his throat.

Tor’Vek set his jaw and moved, every step hammering his control thinner, weaker.

They had to reach theship.

Before it was toolate.

Tor’Vek moved swiftly, despite the ache of his injury, navigating the broken terrain with Anya clutched tightly against him. Every stride jarred her closer, his need for her outweighing the pain from his wound. Every heartbeat deepened the dangerous, burning awareness between them. The broken ground shifted treacherously underfoot, but his focus never wavered from the fragile burden in his arms—fragile only in body, never in the force she exerted overhim.

She buried her face against his throat, her shallow breaths burning against his skin. Her scent—sweet, sharp, and searing with hunger—wrapped around him, making his blood thunder in his veins.

His muscles flexed beneath her weight, bunching with each stride, vibrating with the brutal, contained force of his rage and the answering pull of her desperate need. Every step became a war against the primal instinct to stop, to claim her here and now with no thought to the danger still surroundingthem.

The desire radiating off Anya battered Tor’Vek relentlessly, astabbing intensity that made his heart slam against his ribs and sent a dangerous tremor through his locked muscles. He could feel her slick heat against him, her need so raw and potent it stripped the air from his lungs.

Every tiny shift of her body against his own was a torment, stoking the fire under his skin until his restraint burned to ashes. Her nails dug into his shoulders, adesperate, pleading pressure he felt in every nerve. He welcomed the bite of her touch. It was a sharp pain that held him to purpose.

Tor’Vek snarled, locking every muscle to keep from throwing her down and losing himself completely. The bond between them pulsed harder with each step, aferal drumbeat in his blood, sharpening both their struggles to a razor’s edge. His pulse roared in his ears, deafening him to everything but the feel of her against him, the scent of her soaking into hisskin.

None of this was normal. He was a creature of logic, bred for discipline and control. He had lived his entire existence mastering emotion, not surrendering to it. But with her trembling against him, soft and searing and impossibly vital, he found he no longer gave a damn. Control was an illusion. All that mattered now was her—needing her, protecting her, takingher.

He felt her shaking against him. Heard the tiny, gasping breaths she fought to suppress. Smelled the intoxicating proof of her desperate need. She clung to him, thighs tightening around his hips with each jarring movement, breasts flattening against the hard planes of his chest.

Every instinct in him roared to answer her, his fists clenching so hard his knuckles ached, his vision darkening at the edges with the violent, consuming need to take her. To sink into her heat and fuck her until the rage—and the world—disappeared. His hands tightened possessively on her thighs, his fingertips digging into the soft flesh as he fought to hold himselfback.

“Hold on,” he rasped, his voice a broken growl, half-command, half-plea.

Anya whimpered, squeezing her legs tighter, her hips grinding against him in helpless friction. Tor’Vek’s breath hitched violently, his entire body jerking under the onslaught of sensation. The hard ridge of his arousal pressed against her, abrutal reminder of how close he was to losing every shred of control he still clung to. The friction set his blood ablaze, the sensation short-circuiting his every thought but one—get her safe, then claim what already belonged tohim.

His control shredded a little more with every step. It felt like walking through fire, every muscle locked, every breath a battle.

The ship loomed ahead, battered but still standing, adistant promise of shelter they had to reach. He tightened his hold on her and pushed harder, the pounding of his boots against the cracked earth echoing the violent rhythm of his heart.

They had to makeit.

Or they would tear each other apart before they ever reached safety.

They were nearly at the ship when the last threat revealed itself.

Two primitive hominids burst from the undergrowth, their guttural cries cutting through the smoke-heavy air. They carried crude weapons—clubs fashioned from scrap metal and stone—but it was not the tools that made Tor’Vek pause.

It was the look in theireyes.

Desperation. Hunger. The feral awareness of cornered predators willing to risk everything for akill.

The instant Tor’Vek spotted the threat, he pivoted sharply, shifting Anya behind him with a force that brooked no argument. His body snapped into a defensive stance, arms wide, muscles locked, shielding her as the rage within him roared to life, placing his body between her and the danger.

The moment their contact broke, the bond inside him bucked violently. Rage exploded through him unchecked, aflood of primal fury that tore through the fragile dam of his restraint. His body coiled with lethal purpose, instincts snapping free of the last chains of civility.

A snarl ripped from deep in his chest—aharsh, savage sound no human throat could have made. It rolled out over the clearing like a thunderclap, primal and raw, awarning and a promise.

The hominids faltered.

But they didn’t retreat immediately. They circled, warily, their shoulders hunched, clubs twitching in their grips. One bared his teeth in a silent, desperate challenge, abroken snarl that exposed jagged, yellowed fangs. Tor’Vek answered in kind, peeling back his own lips in a cold, deliberate display—his sharp gold-capped canines flashing like molten daggers in the smoke-heavy light. The other hominid let out a high, nervous yip, trying to summon courage that dissolved before it reached his tremblinglegs.

Tor’Vek didn’t move. He let them see him. Really see him. The cold, unrelenting force barely held in check beneath hisskin.

The bond between him and Anya pulsed frantically, her terror a rapid drumbeat against his mind, fueling the rage snarling beneath his skin even as it connected him to a single, brutal purpose: protecther.

He could feel her standing behind him, frozen, too afraid even to breathe. And through that bond, something sharp and agonizing twisted deep inside him. He would not let them reachher.

Tor’Vek let the rage uncoil fully within him, letting it bleed into his posture, his bearing. His hands flexed slowly at his sides, the long bones of his fingers curling into claws. His violet gaze locked onto the nearest attacker, burning with a feral light that dared them tomove.

One took a hesitant step forward. Foolish.

Tor’Vek lunged a single step—fast, awhipcrack of motion that snapped a brittle branch underfoot—and bared his teeth, muscles rippling beneath his skin in a flash of brutal warning.

The creature shrieked and stumbled back, the stink of its fear flooding the clearing. Sweat and unwashed flesh and terror clung to the heavy, stagnant air, filling Tor’Vek’s nostrils, feeding the beast that still clawed inside hisribs.

They hesitated, the first snarling and lifting its club half-heartedly, the other beginning to backaway.

Tor’Vek bared his teeth wider, letting a low, rumbling growl vibrate from his chest, asound meant for creatures that understood dominance by instinct, not intellect.

With a strangled cry, the first broke and ran, crashing back into the underbrush. The second hesitated—abreath from death—before following, stumbling in its panic.

Tor’Vek didn’t pursue. He could have. Every muscle in his body screamed to give chase, to dominate, to obliterate any threat to what was his—apossessiveness so fierce it twisted against his instincts, aflicker of resentment cutting through the hunger, questioning if he had become more beast than warrior. His limbs trembled with the restraint it took not to hunt them down, not to spill blood on the earth and silence the primal hunger once and forall.

But he stayed rooted where he was, fists flexing uselessly at his sides, the rage snarling unchecked inside him. Only the knowledge that Anya waited just behind him, vulnerable and trembling, gave him the tether he needed to hold theline.

He stayed still until the stench of fear faded into the acrid haze that still clung to the clearing.

After a moment, breathing hard, he turned back to her. The instant his hands closed around her waist again, the rage bucked and recoiled—still wild, but caged once more by her touch.

He stood there for a long moment, his forehead dropping briefly to hers, the brutal tempo of his heart hammering against her skin. The bond between them crackled with wild, chaotic energy—terror, need, relief—all tangled into something neither of them couldname.

Slowly, methodically, he bent and scooped Anya into his arms, yanking her against his chest with a ferocity that bordered on desperate. Her softness slammed against his body, the frantic hammer of her heart syncing with the raw, uneven pounding of hisown.

He clutched her closer, so close she could barely breathe, his fingers digging into her waist as though imprinting her into his flesh. The bond between them roared to life, surging hot and wild, drowning out the rage still thrumming through his blood. He pressed his forehead to hers, breathing her in like she was oxygen and he had been suffocating withouther.

For a long, searing moment, he simply held her there, reveling in the jolt of connection, the wild, reckless need that gripped him tighter than any logic ever had. Only then did he turn and stride toward the ship, her body shielded withinhis.

Anya hadn’t said a word the entire time, her hands trembling where they clutched at the fabric of his shirt, her white-knuckled grip betraying the terror she refused to voice.

She didn’t needto.

He could feel the way her heart pounded against his chest, the way her fingers dug into his shoulders, the way her body vibrated with a cocktail of fear, awe, and something darker. Something needier.

Tor’Vek didn’t slow. He crossed the clearing in long, ground-eating strides, the battered hull of the ship looming larger with every step. The hatch slid open at his approach, afaint hiss escaping as the systems engaged.

He carried her inside.

And the door sealed behind them with a heavy, irrevocable clang, cutting off the outside world with brutal finality. Inside, the ship’s interior loomed around them, dark and cold, the lights flickering sporadically and the hum of damaged systems sputtering in uneven gasps. Panels hung loose from the walls, and the sharp scent of scorched wiring tainted theair.

Tor’Vek kept Anya pressed against his chest, his muscles locked around her like she was the only thing holding him upright. Her scent—asweet, wild mix of fear and defiance—filled his senses, and the silky length of her hair against his jaw made his entire body clench tighter, anchoring him to the one thing still holding the rage atbay.

Every muscle in his body tautened with a brutal demand for more—more of her scent, more of her warmth, more of her breath against his throat. The bond between them pulsed hot and frantic, aliving thing that refused to be ignored.

He set her down with palpable reluctance, his hands sliding up to cup her face, skin-to-skin, his thumbs sweeping over the delicate line of her jaw. Instantly, the bond recoiled the moment he tried to pull away, the rage he’d fought to suppress stirring once again.

Anya stumbled slightly as her feet touched the floor, still gripping his shirt for balance. Her eyes, wide and luminous, locked ontohis.

“Are you… okay?” she asked, her voice hoarse.

Tor’Vek read everything she did not say in the rigid set of her shoulders, the wide-eyed tension barely masked by false calm. Fear twisted beneath her skin, sharp and pungent, but there was more—abrittle thread of trust, trembling and fragile. Her lips parted as if she wanted to plead with him, to beg him to stay in control, but no words came. She did not need to speak. He saw it all in the raw, unguarded openness of hergaze.

He didn’t answer immediately. He couldn’t. Logic told him he needed to finish scanning the ship, ensure they were alone, assess any damage—and frustration snarled through him at the hesitation, at the betrayal of his own discipline. He, who had survived wars and devastation without a falter, now stood frozen because of one fragile human female.

Because the bond had other ideas.

His gaze dropped to her mouth—lush, parted—and something raw surged inside him. The craving he’d held at bay in the clearing returned with brutal force, amplified by the closeness, the scent of her fear, the desperate trust vibrating betweenthem.

“No,” he rasped, voice low and dark. “Iam notokay.”

Her hands flexed against his chest, uncertain.

He caught her wrists before she could pull away. Not rough, but unyielding. His thumb pressed against the frantic pulse at her wrist, feeling it hammer beneath her skin. The sensation sent a fresh surge of hunger roaring throughhim.

Her pulse was hisnow.

Her breath.

Herfear.

“Tor’Vek…” she whispered, but it wasn’t a protest. It was a plea she didn’t understand herself.

He bent his head, forehead grazing hers, his breath catching in the scant space between them—hovering there, fighting the brutal urge to seize her—before dragging in her scent like it might secure him against the pull of chaos. The bracelets pulsed unevenly, alow, insistent vibration that scraped against his senses and wrapped tighter inside his bones.

“The bond demands contact,” he said, each word roughened by restraint he was rapidly losing. “Imust—”

He broke off, jaw clenching.

Mustwhat?

Claimher?

Connect himself toher?

It no longer mattered.

His hands slid up her arms, over her shoulders, until they cupped her head. She trembled beneath his touch but didn’t pull away. Her fear was there—bright, sharp—but so was something else. Something that burned just ashot.

Slowly, deliberately, he lowered his mouth to hers, hovering for a breathless second—giving her the barest moment to flee—before closing the finalinch.

He kissedher.

The contact turned savage, searing, stamped with the brutal possessiveness of a male who had chosen his mate and vowed in the marrow of his bones that nothing—no force, no enemy, no fate—would ever tear her from him. His mouth claimed hers with a brutal hunger that screamed mine —adeclaration carved into skin and breath andsoul.

Heat exploded between them, molten and unrelenting, his body surging closer until there was no space left, no barrier between skin and breath and need. His hands framed her face, strong and determined, thumbs sculpting her cheeks as if trying to memorize the fragile, exquisite shape ofher.

Anya gasped against his mouth—asound that only fed the beast inside him. He growled low in his throat, deep and possessive, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. Her fingers fisted in his shirt, helpless and clinging, pulling him closer when he had no intention of letting hergo.

The bracelets vibrated harder now, reacting to the emotional escalation—an urgent warning of how close he hovered to losing control, or perhaps a dark encouragement to surrender to the bond’s inexorable pull. Tor’Vek no longer knew. Or cared. All that existed was the taste of her, the delicate, fierce heat of her mouth opening to his, the way her body trembled against him, not in fear, but in surrender.

He kissed her like a drowning man finding air, like a warrior driven past reason into raw instinct. With the consuming, savage need of a man who had fought the universe itself—and lost to the one thing he could not defeat.

Her.

Her .