Page 22 of Fated to the Dragon Alien

He couldn’t have both—the safety of the Axis and the heat of her hands in his. One would always poison the other.

But losing Cerani? Letting her go back to the dark and the damage, and pretending he was still loyal to the Axis? That was unthinkable.

Worse—he couldn’t unsee the other miners behind her. The miners whose suits she patched up between shifts. Those quiet eyes watching their numbers drop. The ones who didn’t have whatever strange genetics that allowed Cerani to survive here.

If he wanted her, truly wanted her, he couldn’t just save her. He had to burn the whole machine down.

And stars help him, he didn’t feel afraid of that anymore.

SEVEN

Cerani

Cerani’s tool was steady in her hand as she scraped another long, winding line of basian crystal from its pocket in the wall. This vein was older, the rock dry and brittle under her grip, but the way the crystal sat—open, clean—made the work smoother than usual. The new gloves helped. Fewer cracks in the seal. More padding where she gripped the tool.

The improved suits weren’t perfect, but they didn’t leak around the joints or pinch at the collar. Every one of her suggestions had been implemented in this design. Jorr had been able to work the last two shifts without collapsing halfway. Even Sema had made quota without asking for a stim tab. Stavian had come through.

Cerani shut her eyes for one second. Only one. Just long enough to push his face out of her head.

They hadn’t spoken in three cycles. That was her choice. She’d been the one who ended their meetings. Who said goodbye. Who said it wasn’t safe, or fair—or real. Well, she hadn’t said that, exactly. What was real was what was all aroundthem, and that made any attraction or affection they felt for each other irrelevant. Not when she was still in chains, and he still held the key.

But she’d meant every word. And still, it hurt more than she thought it would.

Heavy footsteps echoed through the tunnel. She lifted her head too fast. Her heart thumped, sharp and sudden.

She turned slowly. Not him. It was a mech, followed by two miners from tunnel line D. Or maybe it was C. They were coughing too hard to tell. She forced her jaw to unclench and went back to work.

This happened more than she wanted to admit. Footsteps in the corridor. Breath caught against her ribs. Hope bubbling where it didn’t belong. Sometimes it really was him, walking past in that dark uniform, wings tucked behind him. And sometimes—sometimes—his gaze caught hers.

He never spoke. Never slowed. But he looked.

And she looked back.

“Still clear?” Jorr called from a few meters away.

“Crystal’s behaving today,” she said.

He gave a low grunt as he shifted and sat back on an overturned supply crate. Their suits whispered and clicked when they moved now, but not from leaks—just the equipment doing what it was supposed to do.

“I know it was you, you know,” Jorr said.

She didn’t look up. “What was me?”

“The suit improvements. You were fixing bad seal points with salvage well before this rollout. You don’t think we noticed?”

“I noticed suits showed up with better pressure patches,” she said. “Overdue, if you ask me.”

“Funny that they arrived so soon after your private, unscheduled disappearance from third shift’s break,” Jorr said.

She kept her face neutral but jolted inside. She’d done everything possible to keep her lessons secret. Of course, they weren’t. “I told you, they pulled me out for a system inquiry.”

“Right,” he said, sticking his double tongues into his cheek. “And this system inquiry happened to line up perfectly with the rollout of suits that just so happen to match all the same repair work you were doing by hand.”

Cerani angled her body toward the wall and kept her focus on her tool. “I submitted a request for better gear like anyone else would. That’s it.”

“You expect anyone to believe that?”

She paused for one beat. “I don’t care what anyone believes,” she said.

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