Page 26 of Marked By the Bounty Hunter

“You won’t.” I pulled his face back to mine, softening the kiss. “But you don’t get to decide what risks I take. I won’t hide while you put yourself in danger.”

He pressed his forehead to mine, breathing ragged. “You’re the most infuriating-”

I silenced him with another kiss, gentler this time. “I know. And you’re the most overprotective-”

His laugh was more growl than humor. “Only with what’s mine.”

That possessive tone shouldn’t have done such wicked things to me. But it did. “Yours?” I scraped my nails down his chest, feeling him shudder. “That works both ways, hunter.”

The all-clear signal chimed, startling us both. We broke apart, breathing hard, the argument not quite resolved but transformed into something else entirely.

“Together,” I said firmly, straightening my clothes. “We investigate together.”

The word hung between us, heavy with promise and fear. I studied his face - the sharp angles softened in the dim light, the way his markings caught the eye.

Hours ago I’d traced those patterns with my fingers, my tongue. Now we were planning to walk into danger together, and my chest ached with the need to protect him even as I knew he felt the same about me.

My fingers found his, twining together. In just days he’d become essential to me, this dangerous, beautiful hunter who’d crashed into my life. The thought of losing him now...

A shout from the marketplace made us both tense. We moved toward the exit, our bodies automatically adjusting to share space, to watch each other’s backs.

TYRIX

The transformed maintenance worker never saw us coming.

We’d tracked him through three levels of service corridors, following Dasari’s coordinates to Research Bay 23-A. Nalina’s hand signal caught my eye: three more ahead. Security had tripled since yesterday.

I kept my senses alert for any change in air currents or scents that might warn of more patrols while Nalina worked on the access panel.

“Got it,” she whispered. The door slid open with barely a whisper.

Research Bay 23-A sprawled before us, dimly lit and eerily still. The sickly sweet scent of antiseptic burned my nose. Underneath lay something else - the metallic tang of blood and the acrid smell of fear.

“Which way?” Nalina asked.

The first room made my steps falter. Through the half-open door, I saw a child-sized medical gown crumpled in the corner, still holding the shape of its last occupant. Selenthian bioluminescence clung to the fabric, but instead of natural silver, it pulsed that sickly purple. Nearby, a long soft shape withtentacles, ears and a friendly hand sewn grin- had been shoved into a corner, as if its owner had been rushed away.

Nalina’s breath caught. She lifted the toy with trembling fingers. “This is Vami’s daughter’s. She never went anywhere without it.”

The stuffed toy in Nalina’s trembling hands represented everything we were fighting for - innocence violated, families torn apart. My claws ached to tear into those responsible, but we had to be smarter than that. Had to find them all.

There was no escaping every detail I wished I could ignore - fresh scuffs on the floor from struggling feet, the lingering warmth in the monitoring equipment, scattered drawings of home that would never be finished. The rage that filled me was a cold, dangerous thing.

“East corridor,” I said, picking up a fresher scent trail. “Recent activity.”

The memory of her body pressed against mine in Dasari’s hideout burned through my mind, threatening my focus. I forced the thoughts away. Later.

“Hold.” I caught her arm as boots clicked against metal flooring ahead. We pressed into an alcove as a security team passed, their movements unnaturally synchronized.

Nalina’s breath ghosted across my neck. Her heart raced, but her hands remained steady as she checked the tablet displaying station schematics.

“Environmental controls show an anomaly two sections over,” she murmured. “Too much power draw for standard equipment.”

I nodded. The scent trail led that direction as well. “Can you bypass it?”

“Give me five minutes.” She pulled tools from her belt, already focused on the task.

I kept watch, dividing my attention between potential threats and the way her fingers moved. Each time we touched, each shared look, pulled me deeper into dangerous territory. Bounty hunters weren’t meant to form attachments. We were hunters, killers. But watching her work, seeing her fierce determination...

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