Page 42 of Third

And the door sealed behind them with a heavy, irrevocable clang, cutting off the outside world with brutal finality. Inside, the ship’s interior loomed around them, dark and cold, the lights flickering sporadically and the hum of damaged systems sputtering in uneven gasps. Panels hung loose from the walls, and the sharp scent of scorched wiring tainted theair.

Tor’Vek kept Anya pressed against his chest, his muscles locked around her like she was the only thing holding him upright. Her scent—asweet, wild mix of fear and defiance—filled his senses, and the silky length of her hair against his jaw made his entire body clench tighter, anchoring him to the one thing still holding the rage atbay.

Every muscle in his body tautened with a brutal demand for more—more of her scent, more of her warmth, more of her breath against his throat. The bond between them pulsed hot and frantic, aliving thing that refused to be ignored.

He set her down with palpable reluctance, his hands sliding up to cup her face, skin-to-skin, his thumbs sweeping over the delicate line of her jaw. Instantly, the bond recoiled the moment he tried to pull away, the rage he’d fought to suppress stirring once again.

Anya stumbled slightly as her feet touched the floor, still gripping his shirt for balance. Her eyes, wide and luminous, locked ontohis.

“Are you… okay?” she asked, her voice hoarse.

Tor’Vek read everything she did not say in the rigid set of her shoulders, the wide-eyed tension barely masked by false calm. Fear twisted beneath her skin, sharp and pungent, but there was more—abrittle thread of trust, trembling and fragile. Her lips parted as if she wanted to plead with him, to beg him to stay in control, but no words came. She did not need to speak. He saw it all in the raw, unguarded openness of hergaze.

He didn’t answer immediately. He couldn’t. Logic told him he needed to finish scanning the ship, ensure they were alone, assess any damage—and frustration snarled through him at the hesitation, at the betrayal of his own discipline. He, who had survived wars and devastation without a falter, now stood frozen because of one fragile human female.

Because the bond had other ideas.

His gaze dropped to her mouth—lush, parted—and something raw surged inside him. The craving he’d held at bay in the clearing returned with brutal force, amplified by the closeness, the scent of her fear, the desperate trust vibrating betweenthem.

“No,” he rasped, voice low and dark. “Iam notokay.”

Her hands flexed against his chest, uncertain.

He caught her wrists before she could pull away. Not rough, but unyielding. His thumb pressed against the frantic pulse at her wrist, feeling it hammer beneath her skin. The sensation sent a fresh surge of hunger roaring throughhim.

Her pulse was hisnow.

Her breath.

Herfear.

“Tor’Vek…” she whispered, but it wasn’t a protest. It was a plea she didn’t understand herself.

He bent his head, forehead grazing hers, his breath catching in the scant space between them—hovering there, fighting the brutal urge to seize her—before dragging in her scent like it might secure him against the pull of chaos. The bracelets pulsed unevenly, alow, insistent vibration that scraped against his senses and wrapped tighter inside his bones.

“The bond demands contact,” he said, each word roughened by restraint he was rapidly losing. “Imust—”

He broke off, jaw clenching.

Mustwhat?

Claimher?

Connect himself toher?

It no longer mattered.

His hands slid up her arms, over her shoulders, until they cupped her head. She trembled beneath his touch but didn’t pull away. Her fear was there—bright, sharp—but so was something else. Something that burned just ashot.

Slowly, deliberately, he lowered his mouth to hers, hovering for a breathless second—giving her the barest moment to flee—before closing the finalinch.

He kissedher.

The contact turned savage, searing, stamped with the brutal possessiveness of a male who had chosen his mate and vowed in the marrow of his bones that nothing—no force, no enemy, no fate—would ever tear her from him. His mouth claimed hers with a brutal hunger that screamedmine—adeclaration carved into skin and breath andsoul.

Heat exploded between them, molten and unrelenting, his body surging closer until there was no space left, no barrier between skin and breath and need. His hands framed her face, strong and determined, thumbs sculpting her cheeks as if trying to memorize the fragile, exquisite shape ofher.

Anya gasped against his mouth—asound that only fed the beast inside him. He growled low in his throat, deep and possessive, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. Her fingers fisted in his shirt, helpless and clinging, pulling him closer when he had no intention of letting hergo.

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