Page 36 of Fifth
Her mouth opened, closed. Too many answers. Because she had refused to die for men who sold women like cattle. Because Locus had stood between her and every hand that reached for her. Because something fierce had lit inside her the first time he called her “mine” and she had no idea how to put itout.
“I adapted,” she said at last. “I listened. Iwatched. Ifollowed Locus’s lead.” She raised her chin. “And I refused to give the monsters a show.”
Silence stretched taut. Sixth studied her for a long breath, then nodded once. “Good.” He shifted. “Intention. What do you want now?” It was more than a question. It was a command.
Hannah stared at her hands, at the tunic tied snug around her waist by Locus’s hands, at the faint rope burns on her wrists where his fingers steadied her trembling. Want was a dangerousword.
“I want to go home. Iwant to see my family again.” Her throat tightened, the words breaking into a whisper. “One last time, if that’s all I’m allowed.”
Locus went still. Sixth’s eyes cooled, then softened by a degree that might have been approval.
“And beyond that?” Sixth pressed.
She drew in breath. “I want my life back. Iwant to understand what Locus is asking of me.” Her voice dropped. “I want to know what it means if I say no.”
Locus shifted close enough for her to see him without turning her head and released her wrist. “She will not be coerced,” he said. “I will not allow it.”
Sixth’s gaze flicked to him. “You think I do not know the difference between coercion and consent?” Not quite a question. His eyes returned to her. “Choice. You will speak it. Not to please him. Not to defy him. To define yourself.”
Her throat worked. “And if I cannot choose yet?”
“Then you will not,” Sixth said with surprising ease. “Time exists. Your captors denied you that. Here it is a resource.” He tapped the table. Aplatform rose, bearing a narrow band of dark metal. “Wear this until you are ready to move beyond guest. It will open the doors that should open, and keep shut those that should not.”
Hannah reached, hesitated. Locus took it first, turning it in his fingers. Starlight clung to the band. He lifted her handand slid it over her wrist. It clicked, warm against her pulse. The casual intimacy of his touch—thumb brushing bone, palm cupping briefly—sent heat spiraling up her arm. She looked away quickly, shaken by how plainly her body confessed.
“Do you understand your position aboard this ship?” Sixth asked. “Say it back.”
“Guest. Not prisoner.” She raised her wrist. “Temporary access, if I earn it.”
“And if you attempt to run?” Sixth asked, almostidly.
The preserve flashed through her mind—cameras, bets, iron bars. The tunic weighed heavily across her shoulders. Locus stood beside her like a barrier she couldn’t move past, his presence a wall of protection and claim. “I won’t run,” she said. “Not yet.”
Sixth’s eyes cut to Locus. “You will brief her on ship protocols.”
“I will,” Locus said.
“You will also brief her on your intention.”
Her pulse stumbled. Locus didn’t look away. “I have done so. Iwill do so again.”
Sixth’s gaze settled back on her. “What do you understand of his intention?”
Her throat ached. “He wants a mate.” The words scraped out. “He wants me.”
“Correct.”
The chamber shrank around her. Heat prickled under her top. Locus’s nearness thickened, heavy as gravity. She wanted toreach for him. She wanted to shove him back. Both at once, until her breath came uneven.
“Look at me,” Sixth said softly.
She did.
“You are not property. On the ground, you were treated as such. Here, you will not be. Nor will you be coddled. You survived because you fought. That will be honored.”
Hannah nodded once. “Thank you.” The words were small buttrue.
Sixth leaned back, starlight cutting hard lines across his face. “One more matter. You still carry the stench of the preserve.” His gaze slid to Locus. “The shower was effective. Not complete. She will be taken to medical for full cleansing and examination.”
