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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

X ara paced the length of the cave, pausing occasionally to peer through the narrow opening at the darkening sky. The air had grown heavy and charged, making her skin prickle with unease. The Xenobeast had been gone for hours, scouting the perimeter after destroying the drone.

The first fat raindrops struck the ground outside with audible thuds. Within minutes, the gentle patter transformed into a deafening roar as water cascaded down the mountainside. Lightning split the sky, illuminating the cave in stark white flashes.

One of the pups—the smallest one she’d nicknamed Wisp—scurried to her feet, trembling. She scooped him up, cradling him against her chest.

“It’s okay, little one,” she murmured. “Just a storm.”

But this was no ordinary storm. The wind howled like a living thing, a predator stalking the night. It found every crack and crevice in their shelter, whistling through the stone with eerie, mournful notes.

Another flash of lightning, and the remaining pups squealed in distress, their bioluminescent patches flaring bright with fear. They huddled together, eyes wide, tiny bodies vibrating with tension.

“He’ll be back soon,” she promised them, though uncertainty gnawed at her. What if something had happened to him? What if Vask had found him first?

She shook her head, refusing to entertain the thought. He was too clever, too strong to be caught unaware. Even in a storm like this.

As if summoned by her thoughts, a massive silhouette appeared at the cave entrance.

The Xenobeast stepped inside, water streaming from his powerful form in rivulets.

His silver skin gleamed in the dim light, and his sensory tendrils were pulled tight against his skull—a sign of discomfort she’d learned to recognize.

Relief flooded through her. “You’re back.”

He nodded once, shaking water from his body like a great cat. His eyes found hers, glowing softly in the darkness.

“Storm,” he said simply.

“I noticed.” She smiled, but it faded as another violent gust sent a spray of rain deep into the cave, soaking her. She gasped at the sudden chill, her thin clothing offering little protection.

The pups squeaked in protest as water dripped onto them from her hair. Wisp burrowed deeper against her, seeking warmth.

“Sorry, babies,” she murmured, setting them down in their nest—a hollow she’d lined with soft fibers and moss, safely away from the cave’s entrance.

Lightning struck somewhere nearby with a deafening crack. The cave trembled with the force of it, and a fresh torrent of water streamed down from a fissure in the ceiling, catching Xara squarely in its path.

She yelped as the cold water soaked through her clothes, plastering them to her skin. Her teeth began to chatter uncontrollably.

The Xenobeast moved toward her with swift, fluid grace. He caught her arm, drawing her deeper into the cave, away from the worst of the storm’s reach. His touch was warm—almost hot—against her chilled skin.

“You’re cold,” he said, concern evident in his low voice.

“I’ll be fine.” But her body betrayed her, trembling visibly.

He guided her toward the fire pit he’d built in the center of their living space. The flames had dwindled to embers, but he quickly fed them with dried wood from their stockpile. The fire flared to life, casting golden light across the cave walls.

Xara stood before it gratefully, but her wet clothes clung to her like a second skin, negating any warmth the flames might have provided. Water dripped from her hair, running in cold trails down her spine.

She glanced at the Xenobeast, who had retreated to the shadows beyond the firelight. His eyes remained fixed on her, unreadable yet intense.

“I need to get out of these wet clothes,” she said, reaching for the hem of her sodden shirt.

He immediately turned away, giving her privacy. It wasn’t the first time she’d changed in his presence, but something about his rigid posture, the careful way he averted his gaze, struck her as different tonight.

She peeled off her shirt, letting it fall to the stone floor with a wet slap. Her pants followed, leaving her in only her undergarments, which were also soaked through. After a moment’s hesitation, she removed those as well.

The fire’s heat caressed her bare skin, but it wasn’t enough. She was still trembling, her muscles tight with cold.

She looked at the Xenobeast’s broad back, at the tension evident in his powerful shoulders. He’d been distant since finding the beacon, preparing for war, shutting her out of his thoughts. But tonight, with danger closing in and the storm raging outside, she couldn’t bear the space between them.

She moved toward him, her bare feet silent on the stone floor. When she reached him, she gently caught his hand. His skin was warm—so warm—and she craved that heat like nothing she’d ever wanted before.

Slowly, deliberately, she placed his hand on her bare hip.

He stiffened, his fingers flexing against her skin, but he didn’t pull away.

“Look at me,” she whispered.

For a long moment, he remained frozen, his face turned from her. Then, with what seemed like tremendous effort, he turned.

His silver eyes widened as they swept over her naked form, lingering on the curve of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the flare of her hips.

His pupils dilated until they nearly swallowed the silver, and his sensory tendrils unfurled from his skull, reaching toward her with tentative, questing movements.

The air between them thickened with heat, with possibility.

“Xara,” he breathed, her name a prayer on his lips.

She stepped closer, pressing herself against the solid wall of his chest. His skin burned against hers, chasing away the chill that had settled in her bones.

“I need you,” she said simply.

Outside, the storm raged on. Inside, a different kind of storm was brewing—one of desire and need, of fear and hope intertwined.

With deliberate slowness, she straddled his lap, her thighs bracketing his powerful hips. His hands came up to steady her, large and careful against her skin.

Their mouths met in a kiss that left her dizzy, his taste wild and alien and perfect. His tendrils brushed against her cheeks, her neck, her shoulders—gentle, exploring touches that sent shivers of pleasure down her spine.

She pressed closer, her body soft against the hard planes of his. He groaned, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrated through her chest.

“Want you,” he murmured against her lips. “Need you.”

“I’m yours,” she whispered back.

His control shattered. With a fluid motion, he laid her down on their shared bed, his body covering hers like a living shield against the world. His hands and mouth explored her with reverent hunger, learning every curve, every sensitive spot that made her gasp and arch against him.

When he finally joined their bodies, it was with a gentleness that belied his tremendous strength. She clung to him, her nails digging into his shoulders as pleasure built within her, wave upon wave.

Their lovemaking was fierce and primal—a claiming, a promise, a defiance against the storm and the dangers that lurked beyond it. His tendrils wrapped around her, binding them closer still, his silver eyes never leaving her face as they moved together.

When release came, it crashed through her like lightning, brilliant and all-consuming. He followed moments later, his powerful body shuddering above hers, her name a broken sound on his lips.

Afterward, they lay tangled together, her head pillowed on his chest, his tendrils still curled protectively around her. The storm continued outside, but its fury seemed distant now, unimportant.

“You should stay hidden,” he said eventually, his voice a low rumble beneath her ear. “When they come.”

She lifted her head to look at him. “No.”

His brow furrowed. “Dangerous.”

“I know.” She traced the contours of his face with gentle fingers. “But this isn’t just your fight. It’s ours.”

He caught her hand, pressing it against his cheek. “Could lose you.”

The naked vulnerability in his eyes made her heart ache. This creature—this man—who had been built for war, who had survived alone for so long, was terrified not for himself but for her.

“You won’t lose me,” she promised. “We’ll face them together.”

His eyes searched hers, looking for doubt, for fear. He found neither.

“Together,” he agreed finally, the word a vow between them.

She settled back against him, listening to the steady beat of his heart. The pups had quieted, lulled to sleep by the rhythm of the rain and the knowledge that their protectors were near.

In the morning, they would continue their preparations. They would face whatever came for them with all the strength and cunning they possessed. But for now, in this moment, there was only the two of them, bound by something stronger than fear, deeper than desire.

Outside, the storm began to ease, the wind’s howl softening to a whisper. Inside, Xara closed her eyes, safe in the arms of her fierce, gentle warrior.

Whatever came next, they would face it as one.