Page 56 of Stars in Nova

He intoned her name in her fantasy, and she whispered it back to the night. They made passionate love, their bodies slickagainst each other, the heat of his breath in her ear as he groaned.

Damn. She flipped to a new position, willing him from her mind, to no avail.

When her eyes fluttered shut from exhaustion, her dreams carried her back to Eden II.

To the one man who’d awakened feelings so wild, so passionate she’d never believed them possible.

When she woke, his ghost lingered, leaving her breathless and unsettled.

As the cool air of the cavern brushed against her skin, she stared at the ceiling again; her soul was a tangle of guilt and yearning.

The next few hours would bring more struggles, more burdens, but for now, she lay in the quiet and remembered.

The sounds of her people waking to a new day sounded in the distance.

She sat up, her soul yearning for relief, her spirit heavy with the millstone of her inescapable reality and the battles yet to come.

A Nightmare Resistance

In the dim corridor, the bioluminescent moss cast a blue glow over the stone walls and the face of the woman leaning against the door jamb.

The soft rhythm of her children’s breathing filtered to her as her eyes loved on them.

The sight tugged at her soul: her son and daughter curled under handmade quilts, their small faces serene in the cavern’s radiance.

She knelt by them, brushing a gentle kiss on each of their foreheads.

‘Goodbye, my loves,’ she whispered. ‘Be brave.’

Her heart ached as she straightened and turned away.

In her room, Samira grabbed her jacket and gear from the chair by her bedroll.

She slipped out of the room past Misandra’s quarters, which were dark as she passed. The older woman was still sleeping.

Samira paused at the doorway, murmuring a hushed thanks for the care and love her aunt gave her children and her family.

Then she exited her home and took almost silent steps toward the meeting point through Thalassi’s cavern corridors.

The air in the grotto warmed as she neared the assembly area.

Her unit was already present, suited up and checking their weapons. The glow of headlamps and torchlight cast shadows on the walls.

Samira approached the group and received chin raises in acknowledgment.

She waved away their salutes, for she was not a trained soldier but rather a rebel who’d stumbled into the role of their leader by pure necessity. Her imposter syndrome was real.

However, she owed these fighters her best, so she set aside her self-doubt and powered on.

They were her people—warriors she had come to know and trust, many of them veterans of Ryen’s division. She greeted them with a nod, her gaze scanning their faces.

Garner, the sniper with unerring aim, his dark eyes steady and serious as he adjusted the scope of his rifle.

Jessa, whose fiery drive burned as bright as her shock-red hair, tightened the straps on her combat vest.

Talin, the quiet strategist, loaded clips into his bandoleer.

‘Commander,’ Garner growled. ‘We’re almost ready.’

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