Page 116 of Akur

She scoffed, but her hands came up to grip his wrists, holding him there for a moment longer. “You better be.”

The others tactfully looked away, giving them this small moment of privacy. When he finally pulled back, Kon-stahns moved to stand beside him, her hand finding his claw again.

Yce barely gave him a nod before his eyes began glowing. Immediately, it felt like ice-cold needles pierced his skin. The sensation quickly transformed into white-hot agony that seared through his skull, setting every nerve ending aflame. Behind his eyes, colors burst and swirled—violent purples and sickening greens that shouldn’t exist.

His mind became a battlefield of sensations—memories ripped loose, thoughts scattered like leaves in a storm. The barrier between self and other dissolved, leaving him raw and exposed. Static filled his ears, rising to a deafening crescendo that threatened to shatter his sanity.

Through it all, he clung to one anchor—Kon-stahns’ presence beside him, her hand gripping his claw, her voice calling his name through the chaos. Even as the darkness rushed in, even as his consciousness splintered like unhooked threads, he held on to that connection.

Thoughts. So many thoughts. He could no longer tell which memories belonged to him and which were echoes of someone else’s pain.

Until, suddenly, he heard it—E’lot’s voice, distant and strained.

“—coming from all sides! Meredith, behind you!”

The sound of blaster fire filled his mind, along with bestial shrieks that didn’t sound like Hedgeruds.

“E’lot,” Akur said.

“What in the seven realms?” E’lot’s confusion was clear, even through the chaos. “Akur? How—”

“Listen carefully, brother. We’re coming. With an army. But first—” He felt Yce pushing the rest of the message through, explaining aboutthe vials they would send, about what needed to be done if they didn’t arrive on time.

“Understood.” E’lot’s voice was growing fainter. “But hurry. They’re—” The connection snapped, leaving Akur gasping as he returned to himself.

He found himself on his knees, Kon-stahns’ arms around him, her face tight with worry. She was murmuring softly to him, words of comfort that helped ground him back in reality. “I’m here, bright eyes,” he managed, his voice rough. “I’m here.”

“Did it work?” Diana asked, already half-risen from her chair. Alaina’s hand was pressed against her chest while V’Alen had moved closer.

Akur nodded, allowing his mate to help him to his feet. “They’re alive. Fighting. But alive.”

The collective exhale was almost audible. Diana sank back into her chair, shoulders sagging with relief, and Alaina closed her eyes briefly, a silent prayer or thanks perhaps, before straightening with renewed determination.

“We need to move fast,” Yce said, his own voice strained from the effort. “Gather our forces. And pray we reach them in time.”

The others began to move, discussing next steps and preparations, but Akur held Kon-stahns back for a moment. In the controlled chaos that followed, they created their own small bubble of calm.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she whispered, reaching up to trace the line of his jaw. “And you’re not leaving me behind.”

He caught her hand, pressing his lips to her palm. Even in this situation, when his body shouldn’t respond, it did. Maybe because it knew this may be the last peaceful night they spent together. “I wouldn’t dream of it, bright eyes. Not anymore.” The admission cost him something, but her brilliant smile was worth it.

She was in his arms in a split click, her legs wrapping around him as he stumbled backward, her lips pressed to his. He didn’t know how or when he staggered back to his quarters or when the door shut.

All he knew was the heat of her skin, the way her fingers splayed acrosshis skull, pulling him closer, as if she couldn’t bear even the smallest distance between them.

Kon-stahns didn’t wait for him to take the lead—she never did. She tugged at his tunic, dragging it over his head with a ferocity that made his pulse thunder. He let her strip him, let her hands roam over the hard planes of his chest, the scars she had once patched and bandaged. Her touch was electric, igniting every nerve in his body as she explored him like she was memorizing every inch all over again.

He wasn’t gentle when he stripped her bare. He couldn’t be. He was careful, but his movements were fast, desperate. He needed her skin against his, needed to feel her warmth, her life, her everything pressed to him. When her garments were gone, he pulled her close, their bodies colliding in a tangle of limbs and heated breaths.

Her nails raked down his back, leaving faint trails of fire in their wake. He growled low in his throat, a sound that came from somewhere primal, somewhere raw. She answered the sound with a gasp, her lips finding his neck, his jaw, his mouth again.

“Kiss me,” she panted.

Kees? But then he knew what she meant. Knew, because she kissed him like they might never have the chance again, and he kissed her back just as fiercely.

When he lifted her, pinning her against the wall, she didn’t hesitate. Her legs tightened around his waist, her arms locking around his shoulders as their bodies aligned perfectly. He could feel her heartbeat against his chest, fast and wild, matching his own. The heat between them was unbearable, consuming, and he didn’t want it to stop.

In that moment, there was no war, no pursuit, no danger waiting for them outside the thin walls of the ship. There was only her—her breath in his ear, her body against his, her voice whispering his name like it was the only thing that mattered.

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