Page 20 of Alien Devil's Prey
He should have released me then. Should have helped me up and continued the lesson. Instead, his grip tightened slightly, and I saw something shift in his expression—predator recognizing prey, but not in the way I'd expected.
"We should stop," he said, but he didn't move.
"Should we?"
The question hung between us, loaded with implications. I could feel the moment balanced on a knife's edge.
Then his mouth was on mine, and the careful distance we'd maintained shattered like glass.
The kiss was hungry, desperate. When we broke apart, both breathing hard, I could see my own hunger reflected in his eyes.
"This is a mistake," he said, even as his hands tightened on my waist.
"Probably."
"It changes nothing about the mission."
"I know."
"The Maw comes first."
"I understand."
But even as I said it, I could see the lie in both our eyes. This changed everything, and we both knew it.
He pulled back abruptly, leaving me breathless against the deck. "We should get some rest. Six hours until we reach the Maw."
I nodded, not trusting my voice. As I watched him walk away, I realized that the mission had become something entirely different. We weren't just partners anymore—we were something more dangerous, something that made failure unthinkable.
Because now I had something to lose that mattered more than revenge.
TALON
The Drift Nebula stretched before us like a wall of glowing gas and electromagnetic interference, beautiful and deadly in equal measure. Somewhere in that chaos of stellar matter, The Maw waited—Kelloch's fortress, our target, and quite possibly our tomb.
The mission parameters had shifted too far. The intel from The Rustbucket about Kelloch reinforcing his position, the Conclave’s interest—it was a variable I couldn't ignore. Proceeding without informing my commander was a violation of protocol. A violation of trust.
"I have to report in," I said, my gaze fixed on the swirling edge of the nebula. "Before we go dark."
Tamsin looked over from the navigation console, her expression unreadable. She knew what this meant. She nodded once, a sharp, clean movement. "Do what you have to do."
I activated the ship's communication array, finally repaired with parts from The Rustbucket. The encrypted connection to thePenumbrawas weak but stable. Rylos’s face materialized on the screen, his features sharp, his deep violet sigils a stark contrast to the cold void behind him.
"Talon. Report."
"Approaching the Drift Nebula," I said, keeping my voice level. "The mission has been updated. The initial target was a decoy. The real Regalia is at a Kythara Syndicate stronghold known as The Maw. The slaver Kelloch is in command."
Rylos stared off screen, his eyes narrowing as he processed the new data. "Our sources confirm your intel. They also confirm Kelloch has doubled his patrols and brought in off-world specialists. We've analyzed the data, Talon. The Maw isn't just a slaver outpost. It's a fortified Conclave staging area. The entire operation is a trap, and you're flying right into it."
I glanced at Tamsin. She met my gaze, her expression steady. She had already accepted the risks. So had I.
"The intel is accurate," I said. "Which makes the target more valuable, not less."
"The target is valuable. Your plan is a suicide run," Rylos countered, his voice sharp with frustration, not anger. "You are walking in the front door based on the word of a single, unvetted asset. This is reckless. Fall back, Talon. That is a direct order. We will find another way in. A better way. A surgical approach that doesn't involve you getting vaporized."
The order hung in the air, a line drawn between my past and my future. He was right, logically. His approach was safer, more strategic. But it would take time we didn't have. And it discounted the single most important variable in the equation: her.
"The window on this target is closing," I said, my voice firm. "And the asset is reliable. We're not backing down."
