Page 36 of Third

The air was heavy, almost greasy, filled with the scent of scorched metal and something sharper, more organic. The gravity here felt slightly skewed, each step oddly weighted, as though the planet resented their presence.

Tor’Vek descended first, scanning the terrain with sharp, predatory efficiency. He reached back, his hand closing firmly around Anya’s wrist, guiding her down the ramp after him. The contact sent a shudder down her spine, her craving flaring to life like a flash fire, searing through her nerves with alarming speed. Her heartbeat skittered, not entirely fromfear.

She stumbled as her boot caught on a twisted piece of wreckage. Tor’Vek caught her again, yanking her flush against his body with a speed that left her breathless.

“Stay close,” he said, his voice low and rough in herear.

No need to tell her twice.

The bracelets pulsed, heat radiating from them in slow, rhythmic waves that matched the frantic pace of her heart.

They moved quickly, weaving through the debris field scattered around the ship. Every breath Anya took tasted like smoke and iron. Ahigh-pitched whine echoed in the distance, followed by another distant explosion. Whether it was lingering environmental instability from the crash or something else entirely, Tor’Vek stiffened beside her, his instincts sharpened. Something was wrong—and whatever it was, it was still out there.

Tor’Vek steered them toward a craggy outcropping of rock—the only shelter visible in the barren wasteland. Systems aboard the ship were failing rapidly. Unstable reactors could trigger a secondary explosion at any moment. Alow overhang of stone jutted outward, barely big enough to shield them from view, but offering the only available protection in the open wasteland. It would have todo.

Anya scrambled under the outcrop, crouching low. Her limbs trembled from more than exertion. The bond between them vibrated with chaotic energy, her own emotions amplified by his proximity—fear, exhaustion, and a yearning so intense it made her dizzy.

Tor’Vek knelt beside her, his large frame half-curled around her in a way that felt fiercely protective, even as tension radiated off him in waves.

She sucked in a breath, battling a sharp spike of panic that tried to take hold. Fear clawed at the edges of her mind, but she forced it back, latching onto a thin thread of determination. She had survived this far. She could survive a little longer. She had to. “Yourship...”

“Damaged but repairable,” he confirmed, checking a watch-like device on his wrist before scanning the sky. Was it connected to the ship’s AI? Areasonable assumption, all things considered. “Hull breaches minor. Engines stable. Life support operational.”

Anya exhaled shakily. That was something, at least.

She shifted slightly, and that’s when she saw it—athin line of blood trailing down Tor’Vek’s side, disappearing beneath the torn edge of his uniform.

“You’re hurt,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

He dismissed it with a curt shake of his head. “Superficial.”

But she didn’t miss the way his jaw tightened.

Without thinking, she reached out. Her fingers swept over the warm, blood-slicked skin just above his hip. The bond flared so fiercely it stole her breath—his pain, his need, his restraint all slamming into her atonce.

Tor’Vek went rigid.

“Do not,” he bit out, his voice a low, broken growl.

She snatched her hand back as though burned, her chest heaving.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

He closed his eyes for a long moment, fighting for control. When he spoke again, his voice was rough but steadier. “It is... not your touch that wounds. It is thebond.”

Her heart twisted painfully in her chest.

They crouched in silence, the air between them thick with unspoken things. The heat of Tor’Vek’s body pressed against her side, and the slow, ragged draw of his breath filled the small space between them, each sound a reminder of the volatile need they both struggled to contain. Around them, the world crackled with distant threats. But here, beneath this battered outcrop, the greater danger felt terrifyingly close.

And it was not out there.

It was insidethem.

Tor’Vek shifted slightly, his thigh contacting hers, and the bond pulsed again—hot, hungry, and impossible to ignore. Anya’s breath hitched, the shock of sensation slamming through her so hard she had to lock her knees to keep from lunging at him. Every nerve ending screamed for more, for touch, for release.

Anya bit down on a whimper. She squeezed her hands into fists, nails digging into her palms. It didn’t help. Nothing helped. The desire tore through her like a living thing, curling low and hot in her belly, flooding her with an ache that was no longer just fear or adrenaline.

She neededhim.

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