Page 36 of Deserted

“You mean that,” I whispered, not quite a question.

I felt the slight easing of pressure as his knot began to recede, our bodies gradually separating in the natural conclusion of the claiming process. He gently shifted us, gathering me against him so we lay face to face, my head tucked beneath his chin, his arms wrapped securely around me.

“I do,” he said simply, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Among my people, the universe gives us only one fate-mate. One heart’s match. You are mine, Jasmine Navarro Cruz. Not despite your fire, but because of it.”

I closed my eyes, savoring the weight of those words, letting them sink into places that had been empty for too long. The voice that had whispered I was too much grew quieter, fading beneath the steady pulse of the bond between us.

For the first time since I’d fallen through that portal in the Sahara, I felt something close to peace. Not because the dangers around us had diminished—we still needed to leave before dawn, still needed to evade whatever Legion tech was stirring beneath the dunes, still faced an uncertain reception at the outpost.

But those concerns seemed less overwhelming now. Whatever challenges awaited us, we would face them together—bound not just by fate or circumstance, but by choice. By recognition of something in each other that neither of us had found elsewhere.

I nestled closer into Rhaekar’s embrace, letting myself believe that maybe, just this once, I could be exactly who I was and still be exactly what someone needed.

The ground shivered beneath us.So subtle at first that I might have missed it if not for the heightened awareness our bond had given me. A faint tremor, barely more than a whisper through the sand, like something large taking its first breath after a long sleep. I stilled, my body tensing against Rhaekar’s, my fingers digging slightly into his arm. “Did you feel that?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might draw the attention of whatever stirred below.

Rhaekar was already moving, his body transitioning from relaxed to alert in a heartbeat. “Yes.”

He sat up, pulling me with him, our bond thrumming with sudden vigilance that replaced the peaceful contentment of moments before. His eyes scanned the horizon, pupils narrowing to thin vertical slits as they adjusted to the darkness. I felt his senses sharpening through our connection—smelling, listening, analyzing in ways my human capabilities couldn’t match.

Another tremor followed. Stronger this time. A distinct ripple that made the sand beneath my palms shift and resettle. The dunes around us seemed to sigh, sending cascades of fine grains sliding toward the lower basin. Tiny avalanches of silver-blue sand caught the starlight as they fell, beautiful and somehow ominous.

“That wasn’t just my imagination,” I said, scrambling to my feet.

“No.” Rhaekar stood in one fluid motion, his massive frame casting a long shadow across the sand. His tail lashed behind him, a sure sign of agitation I was learning to read. “Something’s waking.”

My heart kicked into high gear, blood rushing in my ears. “Is it the storm again?” I asked, though I already knew the answer from the tight coil of dread forming in my stomach.

“No.” He reached for me, helping me gather our scattered gear with practiced efficiency. His movements were controlled but urgent, his focus absolute. “It’s coming from beneath us.”

I didn’t need him to explain further. The tech he’d found earlier—the buried Legion weapons systems, the ancient war machines—they were stirring more fully now, responding to something. To me. To my alien presence on this world.

Through our bond, I caught flickers of Rhaekar’s knowledge—broken images of mechanical sentinels emerging from sand, of metallic tendrils seeking unknown targets, of automated systems designed to contain and examine anything they deemed a threat. The images weren’t memories but fragments of reports, briefings, warnings passed among Reapers tasked with monitoring the desert’s deadly secrets.

A third tremor rolled beneath us, strong enough that I had to widen my stance to maintain balance. The vibration hummed through the soles of my boots, up my legs, settling in my chest like a second, discordant heartbeat.

“How much time do we have?” I asked, fastening my pack with trembling fingers.

Rhaekar’s eyes met mine, his gaze intense in the starlight. “Not enough.”

The ground shifted again, and this time the movement was accompanied by a sound—a deep, resonant hum that seemed to emanate from everywhere and nowhere at once. It raised the fine hairs on my arms, set my teeth on edge. Not mechanical, not quite. Something between organic and artificial.

“We need to move.” Rhaekar handed me the sand-pulse rifle, ensuring I had a secure grip before releasing it. “Now.”

I nodded, slipping the weapon’s strap over my shoulder as I’d been taught. My hand automatically checked that the power cell was properly seated, the safety disengaged. The training he’d given me earlier felt more vital now, less theoretical.

A sudden crack split the night—sharp and final, like ice breaking on a frozen lake. Twenty yards to our right, a fissure opened in the sand, blue-white light spilling upward from depths I couldn’t measure. The glow illuminated the desert in harsh relief, casting everything in sterile, clinical brightness that felt wrong against the natural darkness.

“Legion protocols,” Rhaekar growled, positioning himself between me and the light. “Active scanning.”

Through our bond, I caught his meaning with crystal clarity. The tech wasn’t just awake—it was hunting. Searching. For me.

Another fissure opened to our left, then another beyond it. The desert was splitting apart, revealing veins of artificial light running beneath its surface like luminescent blood vessels through pale skin. With each new crack, the humming intensified, vibrating through my bones, making my teeth ache.

“Let’s go.” Rhaekar grabbed my hand, his grip firm but gentle. We began moving away from the spreading light, our pace quick but measured. Running would waste energy we’d need for the long journey ahead, but dawdling wasn’t an option either.

I glanced back once over my shoulder. The fissures had connected, forming a geometric pattern that reminded me of circuit boards or ancient petroglyphs—precise lines and angles that had no place in the natural world. The pattern was expanding. Growing. Seeking.

My skin crawled with the certainty that we were being watched by something inhuman. Something that calculated and assessed with cold efficiency.

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