Page 55 of Third

Anya shifted closer as she tightened the pack across her shoulders. His fingers closed around hers for an instant. Both of them inhaled sharply at the flood of craving tinged with hints of rage. It surged through the bond—hot, unrelenting, desperate to devour.

For one breathless second, neither moved. The craving wasn’t just physical. It wanted dominance, surrender, fusion. Then, with iron control, it ebbed—not vanished, but leashed.

“Are you ready?” he asked, voice low and rough.

She should have said no. Her heart slammed against her ribs, warning her, begging her to stop. She wasn’t a soldier. She wasn’t ready for what waited for them. But she swallowed hard, squeezed his hand one last time, and nodded.

“Let’smove.”

They stepped into the corridor together, the stale air closing around them like a warning. Neither spoke. Neither needed to. Every shift of her hand against his, every deliberate touch kept the craving at bay—barely.

Anya felt the temperature drop as they passed through the warped frame of the bulkhead. The silence out here was different. Dense. Like the ship itself was holding its breath.

She didn’t look back. Couldn’t. Whatever they’d just built between them—fragile, electric, barely stable—was all they had. And it had to be enough.

Chapter14

THE AIRoutside the ship struck Anya immediately—dense and sharp, the pressure heavier than Earth’s, the gravity tugging harder at every breath. Her lungs ached with the effort to adjust, and the weight of the supply pack dug into her shoulder like it had doubled. Each step forward would take more energy, every kilometer a punishment.

She adjusted the strap, wincing, already feeling the strain settle into her joints. Tor’Vek’s hand pressed lightly to the small of her back, lingering longer than necessary. She knew why. Maybe, she thought, it helped him find his strength too, against the pull of a planet that didn’t want to let themgo.

“Seven kilometers northwest,” Tor’Vek said, scanning the horizon and checking it against the map hovering above his rij. His voice remained steady, but she could feel the tightness simmering under the surface.

They moved together in a rhythm that had become second nature. Their hands occasionally tangled—not by accident, but by need. There was no more pretense, no more hesitation. They touched because they had to, because distance hurt more than closeness.

She no longer pretended to pull away. There was no point—not after everything they’d already shared, after the endless occasions when his mouth had traced heat over her skin and she’d come apart in his arms. What they did now wasn’t about curiosity or obligation. It was about survival. The bond demanded closeness, and every step they took together was a silent agreement to hold the line—for as long as they still could.

“Did you always want to be a scientist?” she asked after a while, needing to hear something—anything—that wasn’t about the way her body ached to turn toward him, to press against him, to close the space between their mouths again.

Talking helped. It distracted her from the heat pooling low in her belly, from the pulse thumping in her wrists where the bracelet clung like a second skin. Conversation was a connection—maybe the only one strong enough to keep her from givingin.

He glanced down at her. “Iwas selected young. Aptitude determined my placement. Ipursued science and medicine because they were efficient uses of my skills.”

“Efficient,” she repeated, almost smiling. “Not because you lovedit?”

He considered. “Irespected it. Purposeful work is preferable to purposeless.”

“You’re not answering the question.”

And she needed him to. She needed to know there was something beneath all that logic and restraint—something real. Something that wasn’t just programmed obedience or function. Maybe it was selfish, maybe it was foolish, but she needed to believe there was still someone inside him whochosewhat mattered. Who choseher.

His mouth tightened. For a moment, she thought he wouldn’t respond. Then he said, “There was satisfaction. Satisfaction is acceptable.”

They walked another few steps in silence. Their hands touched again, lingered, and the gnawing heat inside her eased slightly. She swallowedhard.

“What about you?” he asked. “Before this. Before Selyr.”

“Iwas a college student. Studying education. Close to my sister.”

“Maya,” he said quietly.

She blinked, surprised. “You remembered.”

He gave a faint nod. “Yes. You have spoken her name with frequency. But... what is she to you? Ayounger sibling? Older? Aclone?”

Anya stared at him, thrown. “What? No. Itold you. She’s mytwin.”

He stopped walking. “Twin?”

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