Page 82 of Third

“Tor’Vek,” she rasped. Nothing. “Tor’Vek!”

He stirred. Groaned. Then his eyes snapped open—wild, violet, and glowing with too much light.

And everything changed.

The bond didn’t just spike—it detonated. Like a thunderclap inside her chest, agravitational collapse that bent everything inward. His gaze locked onto hers, sharp as a blade, but it wasn’t Tor’Vek’s logic she saw in that moment—it was the beast beneath. The hunger. Theneed.

Desperate.

“Get out,” he said, voice low, hoarse, and dangerous. “Now.”

“You’re hurt—”

“Isaidgetout.”

It wasn’t rejection. It was warning. Aflare of desperate logic breaking through the chaos. He wanted her gone because he could feel himself slipping, feel the bond cracking open something volatile inside him. He was trying to save her—from whatever camenext.

She scrambled for the manual release. He was already unraveling. His breath hitched in uneven bursts, muscles locking and twitching under his skin like he was fighting something invisible and losing. The bond pulsed erratically, wild and unstable. This wasn’t pain alone. It was something deeper—raw, feral, chemical. As if the crash had cracked open whatever control he had left and let the monster underneath start to rise. The bracelet glowed, not red—but silver. Shifting. Changing.

“Anya.Move.”

He was losing control.

And something inside her snapped.

The fear, the logic, the chaos—it all fractured under the weight of something deeper. She couldn’t abandon him. Couldn’t run from this. From him. Every breath he took sounded like a war he was losing.

She unhooked herself, ignoring the tremor in her fingers, reached across the console—and touched hishand.

Heat.

Instant.

It surged through him—through them—like a violent chain reaction. Not gentle warmth. Not a flicker. It was a detonation. Every synapse fired at once, flooding his system with need and fury and the overwhelming force of the bond. His breath vanished. Thought dissolved. She had touched his hand—but it was everything. It was her presence, her defiance, her choice. The connection roared to life with savage precision, demanding surrender.

And for a second, he almostdid.

His chest seized. Eyes flared violet. Her body answered like it had been waiting for that moment all along.

Craving. Rage. Hunger. The bond didn’t recognize injury or logic—it only knew pressure. It thrust against them, relentless and blinding, like a tide of heat and instinct crashing through every boundary. It wanted release. It wanted surrender. It did not care what itcost.

And she held his hand tighter.

Not just to calm him. Not even just to calm herself. But because in that moment, everything inside her screamed that this was the only thing that mattered. That if she let go now—she might lose him. Might lose herself. Her skin burned where they touched, but she didn’t flinch. She felt the bond flare, push, recoil, and settle again. He was chaos and logic and violence barely contained—but under it all, he washers.

And she wasn’t lettinggo.

“I’m not leavingyou.”

The words came before she even realized she was speaking them—raw, instinctive, rooted in something so deep it bypassed logic. She didn’t care if he was seconds from fracturing. Didn’t care if the base exploded around them. The only truth she could feel, above the bond and the fear and the madness, was this: she belonged here. With him. Even if it killedher.

His body convulsed once. Then stilled. Then— a breath.

The bond settled, not into peace, but into pressure wound tight, like a storm held behind glass. Not quiet. But contained. Fornow.

“You are stabilizing me,” he said, disbelief coloring the words. “Evennow.”

She nodded once, chest heaving. “Lookslike.”

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