Page 96 of Akur

The silence that answered her was deafening.

She stared at one of the deeper scars crossing his chest—a reminder of all the battles he’d fought. How many had been against the Tasqals? How many others would fall trying to stop them? Her chest ached as she imagined them spreading across the universe like a plague. Imagining them bringing humans through that psychic rift they wanted to create. Many more would suffer. Many more would die.

“They’ve won, haven’t they?” she whispered. “In the end, they will win. Even if we destroy that orb…they’ll find another way…I can just feel it. And then more will fall. More good people will die. Like you.”

Her fingers curled against Akur’s chest in helpless anger. “It’s not fair.You deserved better than this. Better than dying for some worthless human who couldn’t even tell you—”

The ship shuddered slightly as it made another course correction.

“I don’t know how to do this without you,” she whispered. “How to keep fighting when it all seems so pointless. You were the one who believed in retribution. I just wanted to survive.” She paused. “But maybe that was your point all along, wasn’t it? That just surviving isn’t enough. That we have to stand for something. Fight for something.” A bitter laugh left her throat. “Took you dying for me to finally understand that. Guess I’m a slow learner.”

More time passed. Or maybe it didn’t. Everything was like a dream. The silence seemed to press in around her, broken only by the soft beeping of the console and the distant hum of the ship’s engines. Her body ached from lying in one position for so long, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave him. Not while some irrational part of her mind still hoped that if she just stayed there long enough, somehow…

She didn’t feel it at first. Too numb from everything that happened. But when her eyes fluttered open, consciousness returning, she realized she had drifted off. Her head was pressed against his chest, despite the wounds there, despite the evidence of all he’d done for her.

A slow breath released from her nose as she stared ahead, seeing nothing through vision that was blurred. Deep inside her chest, her heart was cracked into pieces, a pain in her chest that wasn’t there before growing so intense it was like she’d been shot.

Swallowing hard, she closed her eyes again…and that’s when she felt it.

There, beneath her ear, so faint she could barely hear it, was a flutter. The slightest movement.

Constance froze, even her breath stilling.

She didn’t dare move, too scared to hope and hoping all the same as she kept her ear pressed to the spot. Seconds stretched into eternity as she waited, praying she hadn’t finally lost her mind.

There it was again. A flutter. No. Not just a flutter. Aheartbeat. Weak, but unmistakably there.

“Akur?” Her voice shook as she pushed herself up, staring at his face. “Akur!”

He looked as still as ever. There was no indication she hadn’t just imagined the sound.

Pressing her ear to his chest once more, she strained to hear. The sound was barely there, like a distant drum, but it was real.

Her voice cracked. “Computer, scan for life signs!”

“SCANNING…ONE LIFE SIGN DETECTED.”

Her heart plummeted. Had she imagined it? Fuck. Was she really going insane?

But no. She’d felt it. That flutter. That impossible, beautiful flutter.

“Scan again!”

“ONE LIFE SIGN DETECTED.”

No.

Pressing her ear to his chest once more, she kept her wide eyes on his face, her heart beating impossibly fast. Fast enough that it might have been sending too much blood to her brain.

“No,” she said, pushing herself up. “I know what I felt.”

Positioning herself over him, her heart thundered more as she stared at his cold, lifeless form. But she’d felt it. She’d felt the flutter. Clenching her jaw, she remembered the emergency medical training from what felt like a lifetime ago. “You never gave up on me,” she whispered, as she positioned her hands over his chest. “Not once. So I’m not giving up on you.”

The first chest compression made her wince, afraid she’d hurt him somehow, but she forced herself to continue. Each push against his chest was precise, rhythmic, desperate.

“ONE LIFE SIGN DETECTED,” the computer repeated, almost mocking.

“Shut up!” she snapped, continuing the compressions. “He’s still in there. I felt it.”

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