Page 8 of Pyne

I nod, trying to ignore the way his proximity makes my pulse race. “Lead the way.”

As we prepare for the zero-gravity challenge, we’re each fitted with a sleek, form-fitting spacesuit and a transparent helmet which will allow us to breathe and communicate in the airless void. The suits have propulsion systems to help us navigate the obstacles, but the real challenge will be maintaining our focus and coordination in the disorienting weightlessness of space.

We line up at our starting platform, the other teams jostling for positions around us. I catch snippets of their chatter, some boasting of their zero-gravity prowess, others strategizing in hushed tones.

The insectoid duo, I overheard, hail from a planet with notoriously low gravity, giving them a natural advantage. Thereptilian siblings, meanwhile, are arguing over who gets to take the lead.

“Just try to keep up, little sister,” the larger one growls. “And don’t go crying to Mama if you can’t handle it.”

“Oh, shove it up your cloaca,” the other retorts. “I’ll run circles around your scaly hide.”

I suppress a snort of laughter, feeling a flicker of camaraderie with our fellow competitors, despite the stakes. We’re all in this crazy game together, after all.

Arisha’s voice cuts through the chatter, counting down to the start. “Three, two, one… bake off!”

Suddenly, the gravity on the platforms vanishes and we’re all floating, flailing, and fumbling for purchase. Pyne, however, moves with a fluid grace that takes my breath away. His powerful legs propel him forward, his tail acting as a rudder to steer him through the chaos.

“Come on, Becca!” He calls over his shoulder, then circles back to retrieve me when he sees me struggling. “Grab my hand!”

I stretch out, straining to reach him, and our gloved fingers brush, then lock together. With a tug, he pulls me alongside him, and we’re off, weaving through the maze of obstacles like a pair of cosmic dancers.

The stardust tokens glitter tantalizingly ahead, and Pyne surges forward, snatching them up with deft twists and turns. I do mybest to keep up and stay out of his way, marveling at his agility and strength.

Around us, the other teams struggle, bumping into each other and careening off course. The insectoid duo, despite their natural advantage, seem disoriented by the shifting gravity fields. The reptilian siblings are grappling with each other, their competitive rivalry getting the better of them.

But Pyne navigates it all with a grin on his face, his enjoyment of the challenge evident in every move. I find myself caught up in his enthusiasm, laughing breathlessly as we spin and soar.

“Having fun, sugarplum?” he calls out, snagging another token as he sails forward.

“You know it, gladiator!” I reply, surprised at how comfortable it is to joke and laugh with him. “Let’s finish this!”

With a final burst of speed, we propel ourselves back to our platform, landing in a tangle of limbs just as the buzzer sounds. We lie here for a moment, catching our breath, our faces inches apart.

When our gazes connect, the lighthearted moment vanishes as something more dramatic flashes between us—affection. My hand is still caught in his, as it has been since shortly after the starting buzzer sounded. But now, with no tokens to collect, I’m fully aware of how nice the connection feels, even through our suits. And his blue eyes. How did I not notice they’re the color of the Caribbean Ocean on a perfect day?

When he takes his face shield off, my lips clamp together as I fight the urge to lick the thin scar that slashes across both lips. Crap! I’m falling for my teammate. I wonder if he feels it, too. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he’s quit breathing as his gaze melds with mine.

Pyne is the first to return to the moment. He tears his gaze from mine as his eyes sparkle with exhilaration and good humor. “Not bad for a couple of kitchen disasters, eh?”

I laugh, giddy with adrenaline and the thrill of victory. “Not bad at all, space gladiator. I think we make a pretty good team.”

He grins, his tail curling around my waist in a moment of unguarded affection. “The best, Becca.”

We stand and are still holding hands when Arisha announces our team as the winner. As Pyne clutches the immunity prize—a gold-painted cupcake—triumphantly in his hand, I let out a whoop of joy. Although we started this competition as underdogs, we’re proving to be a force to be reckoned with.

As Pyne wraps me in a celebratory hug, his arms holding me close, I start to think maybe the real prize isn’t the trophy in our hands, but the connection we’re building, one scary challenge at a time.

Chapter Seven

Pyne

After our exhilarating victory in the immunity challenge, Becca and I take a moment to catch our breath and refuel with some much-needed food. As we munch on Marzan morsels and exotic Guarian goulash, I can’t help but feel a sense of relief and pride. We may have started this competition on a disastrous note, but we’re proving that we’ve got what it takes to rise above the chaos.

Becca, however, seems to have something weighing on her mind. She sets down her drink and turns to me, her expression apologetic. “Hey, Pyne? I want to say I’m sorry.”

I tilt my head, confused. “For what, sugarplum? We just kicked some serious asteroid in that challenge!”

She shakes her head, so earnest she doesn’t even laugh at my joke. “No, I mean yesterday, in the kitchen. I was so focused on winning that I let you flounder without enough guidance. I should have realized you wouldn’t know your way around a mixing bowl any more than I would know a long sword from a… short sword.”

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