Page 117 of Stars in Nova

Kisan leaned over Samira, his hand brushing her temple.

His fingers, rough-skinned but now tender with care, slid down to her crux of nape.

‘You’re fussing,’ she murmured, her eyes struggling to open.

‘It’s a pulse check,’ he replied, his eyes solemn. ‘Need to believe you’re truly here with me.’

She smiled, her hand coming up to rest on his cheek. ‘You’re such a softie, handsome.’

‘I am,’ he said, kissing her forehead. ‘Never take anything for granted is my new motto.’

He proceeded to show her just how much he appreciated her.

Much later, after a quick breakfast and walking the kids to their subterrane school, they joined Sax in the armory, a cavernous space that buzzed with activity.

‘Where’d you sleep last night, wanderer?’ Kisan asked his friend, who appeared none worse for the wear after his adventures.

‘You’ll be surprised by how soft a rock moss is,’ the Sarabaite replied. ‘Though I spent most of the night gazing at the beauty of the lagoon and its luminous lights. I think I saw a Quiran mermaid surface at one point. Freakin’ awesome.’

Kisan shook his head at his errant mate, turning to the present.

Samira was chatting with her crew and engineers at a workstation, their voices blending with the hum of machinery and the clang of metal against metal.

His woman waved the Sable men over and introduced the unholy man to her crew and Sharin, her chief technician.

The head engineer’s gaze lingered on Sax for a beat, her expression unreadable.

The Sarabaite raised a brow, his sensual lips twitching into a grin. His imposing frame caught glances as he surveyed the scene.

His penetrating eyes landed on Samira’s unit, and he used his chin to point at them. ‘These are your fighters? Don’t look like much.’

Sharin crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes in mock offense. ‘Don’t look like no soldier or merc to me; more like a pretty boy monk better off begging for donations on the streets or at your monastery cleaning up floors.’

‘As a matter of fact, that is one of my chores in the abbey,’ Sax shot back.

‘I guess appearances can be deceiving.’

Sax’s smirk was instant. ‘You’ve got fire. I like that.’

Samira exchanged a look with Kisan, who muttered, ‘It’s been less than an hour, and he’s already making moves.’

Sax shot him a glare. ‘Some of us don’t need a lake and romantic lighting to get the job done.’

Kisan snorted. ‘Some of us don’t rush into flirtation like a starving man at a buffet.’

Their banter is surprised and then amused by their companions, who all laughed.

‘Shall we get this shit done?’ Samira murmured.

With a chin lift, Kisan produced his mask and the blueprints they’d acquired, spreading over the central work table.

The Sable men dove into work alongside the Vaelorii, using the mask schematics to fashion weapons and shields capable of channeling kinetic energy.

The plans, though intricate, required tweaking when applied to Vaelorian weapons, leaving much to be improvised.

Sax proved adept at welding components, his sinewed hands moving with precision as he fashioned prototypes.

‘This is a nightmare,’ Sax grumbled, holding up a half-finished shield. ‘Who designs this stuff? A sadist?’

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