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Chapter Twenty-Five

Cylo summoned the shadows to surround him—a futile attempt to hide a white-wrapped Etterian male sneaking across the top of the Crustiiu caves.

Certainty compelled him onward; desperation demanded he didn’t give up.

Up ahead was a crevice—a dark scar across the gray rock.

His bare feet made not slipping easier, but his boots would have spared him from the sharper edges.

None of his discomfort mattered. He enhanced his hearing, listening for approaching footsteps or voices.

Peering through the crack, the shape of another pool was visible in the unnatural torchlight.

He gazed south to the entrance of the caves, a little farther than expected.

A step at a time, he circled the crevice, catching glimpses of what lay beneath: just a pool, a wall, and a door.

He gripped the edge of the crack and lowered himself through, dangling in silence as he assessed the space.

A sniff fired joy along his veins to settle in his heart.

Wren’s scent…

He dropped and landed in a crouch. Beside him, the water bubbled, and heat warmed him. Nothing else stirred. He faced the door and placed his palm on the sec panel, expecting it to open. If it didn’t, he was quite prepared to break into the data analysis office again.

The door whispered as it glided aside. He didn’t hesitate, slipping past before it shut. Her scent hit him then—full-bodied, sweet, and tainted sour. He found himself sliding into her room, not sure how he got there other than to acknowledge it had been swift. Her muted sighs said she slept.

After all this time, he was content to gaze upon her in the dim lighting.

She lay on her side, her hands clasped and tucked under her cheek.

Over her hip draped a blanket, and from under it, peeked a bare leg.

A tight, sleeveless tunic clung to the top half of her and emphasized the curves of her body.

He peeled off the wrap and let it slither to the floor.

When he lifted the corner of the blanket, he almost moaned at the tiny white strip covering her sex.

She didn’t stir when he climbed in beside her, not even when he curled an arm around her.

Only as he tugged her against his body did she whimper.

“Cy,” she mumbled, rubbing her nose across his forearm.

The vise around his chest eased, and for the first time in three days, he could breathe without pain lashing him. Her scent filled his senses; the warmth of her skin against his coated his soul with peace. He’d found her.

Did you miss me, ensa?

She hummed and pressed a kiss to his arm across her chest.

A craving so fierce almost made him flip her onto her back to claim her mouth. But he’d dreamt of this reunion, needed to go slow to cherish every second. The Ethera made demands he wholeheartedly agreed with.

“Wren,” he rasped, yanking her closer until she layered his front. He cupped a breast, massaging it as he kissed her neck.

“What took you so long?” she asked, twisting to meet his gaze.

He wasn’t about to share how much he’d suffered—what he’d done to find her. “We said a week.”

She growled. That sound from her slammed need into him and hardened his malehood to its full length. It throbbed in anticipation. He ran his hand over the softness of her belly to the silken curls between her thighs.

Her moan made his fingers tremble as he stroked her.

With a tug, he tore the one side of her undergarment for better access.

She didn’t complain but instead spread her thighs for him.

It wasn’t enough, the slickness of her need, her body filling his arms…

He doubted it would ever appease this longing to consume her, to have her be a part of him.

“Cy,” she cried out, trembling when her fulfillment struck. The muskiness of her arousal made his nostrils flare.

He shifted her onto her back, tore the other side of her undergarment, and hoisted her leg up to his hip as he settled between her thighs. She wiggled and peeled off her tunic, granting a full view of her breasts.

Maker . All thoughts fled as he slid into her; the glide of her wet heat over his malehood was heaven, bliss, a divine blessing. She lifted her other leg and hooked it around his hip, sinking him deeper.

Arching his back, he groaned, savoring the sparks of fire and joy she inspired.

“Three days was too long,” she said, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him down. “Now fuck me, Cy.” She stole a kiss then met his gaze. “Show me you missed me.”

He growled, not needing encouragement. With each withdrawal and plunge, he chased ecstasy, hers and his. When a flood of liquid warmth drenched him, his core spasmed, and a spark raced to the head of his malehood. He roared, unable to halt the cascading pleasure and not wanting to.

Still buried in her as the tremors continued, he gazed into her gray eyes and smiled.

I…love you, thamani.

She gasped, her eyes widened, then softened, and a tear slipped free. “What did you say?”

I do not care that you are not my Dar Eth. He slanted his mouth over hers, desperate to taste her, to duel with her, to have her claim him. I cannot let you leave me. Not again.

“I love you, too.” She stroked his jaw, her beautiful eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I have for a while.”

He grinned. Good. Ready for more?

Before she could answer, he inched his way out of her, only to inch his way back, slow, steady, igniting every nerve, each sense, while he savored her breathless moans, her tiny gasps, the stillness when she was on the cusp of a fulfillment.

What followed was something he planned to repeat, more so than the mere act of mating. For in these unhurried moments, he met her, who she was, and fell in love again.

Every night, Cylo snuck into Wren’s quarters.

He’d asked her to hide his presence in case Ariez separated them again, but he was a fool because his scent lingered.

Ariez would have known the moment he entered Wren’s quarters after their reunion.

Still, something as unexpected as fear governed Cylo’s actions.

The rock walls weakened signals until she was unreachable.

Which meant she could sleep at night without disturbances other than Cylo’s nightly visits.

He couldn’t communicate with her, leaving him with no way to know she was safe. So the moment the quiet settled, he headed there.

She’d taken to sleeping naked—a fact he appreciated.

Already, his malehood hardened in anticipation.

And even though he’d had her twice a night, it was holding her that he looked forward to the most. He basked in her lyrical voice as she told him about her day, the findings, the setbacks.

Only one marker had yet to stabilize. They were in limbo as Eth and Dar Eth.

Like before, his void had shrunk. Although, he had yet to be reassessed.

As long as he stayed with her, nothing mattered.

He leaned against the bulkhead, gazing upon her while she dozed.

He’d drawn many fulfillments from her in the last hour, and for that reason alone, he allowed her to sleep. Soon, he’d join her.

Into the silence came the muted hiss of her door opening. He froze, then peeked through her bedroom door. A glance told him everything.

A female in black darted across the common, her steps delicate. The delicate footfalls told him not-human. Her small frame said Maloidian as did the sweet organic musk of her scent. He waited until she neared.

She didn’t.

He couldn’t peek again without revealing his presence. The familiar tap of a blaster button had him diving into the doorway. The sting of a stun registered when he hit the floor, jarring his shoulder. His right arm had numbed.

He lunged after the fleeing female. She was fast, slipping out before he could reach her.

Outside, he fought his shock that anyone would dare to attack on their home ground.

He allowed anger to propel him after her.

She took him through a maze of rocky pathways until she breached the royal gardens.

He didn’t bother to mark where he was or how to return. Catching her was imperative.

She sprinted ahead; so did he. And at last, he tackled her to the ground, the momentum sliding them across the gravel.

He used his weight to pin her when he had only his left arm. “Who sent you?” he demanded. “Who?” he roared when she didn’t answer. He flipped her over but kept her in place. Knocking back her hood revealed the pale-yellow features of Korre.

She smirked. “Hello, Cylo.” Her gaze dipped to his naked form.

“Why Wren?” he asked. “Speak or die.” He wrapped his fingers around her throat and squeezed, backing up the threat.

She laughed. “You will not kill me.” She touched her lips then his, spreading a familiar bitterness. The tingle on the tip of his tongue confirmed her choice of poison.

He scoffed. “The venom of the Foutas frog cannot harm an operative.”

Her eyes widened, and fear darkened her cheeks. “I cannot tell you. Exile is certain death.”

“Why Wren? Can you share that?”

She glanced to the side. “If you vow to kill me…” She met his gaze. “I have failed twice. It is unacceptable for—”

“A Serratu Kayarra.” He leaned back, granting her a little breathing room. “Very well. What do you know?” Such a question triggered his O.D.I. to begin recording.

“The Earthian carries evidence of Maloidian attempts to destroy…Etteria.”

“You speak of Iphara.”

“Yes. Chemicals injected into weak females to create sexual compatibility. But this is a side effect. The true goal is to create biological weapons no Eth would suspect.”

“Part of this plan we are aware of. It has been documented and thwarted. How would Wren be a weapon? How can she be triggered? And what could a small female do to us?” He frowned at this not making sense. “What of the other females? They carry the evidence, as well.”

“A Durn—”