Page 11 of Nebula Hearts
The light in his eyes fades from blinding violet to dim amber to almost nothing.
His gaze drops to his own hands, covered in... I don’t want to think about what they’re covered in.
Looks at the dead hunters scattered across the chamber floor.
Looks at Sarpi’s body.
Then he looks at me.
For one second, I see awareness return. See recognition in his eyes. See him understand exactly what has happened.
His face crumples. Pure devastation.
Then his knees buckle.
He drops. Hard. Would hit the stone face-first if I didn’t lunge forward and catch him.
We both go down in a controlled fall that’s only controlled because I manage to twist so his head lands on my lap instead of the floor. He’s heavy. All muscle and bone and complete dead weight.
His markings fade to almost nothing. Just faint violet traceries under pale skin. His eyes close. Breathing shallow but steady.
I should check on Sarpi. Even though I know it’s too late. Should do a dozen practical things.
My hand moves to Tynrax’s hair instead. Smoothing it back from his forehead. The strands slip between my fingers like silk. Softer than it looks.
I just watched him kill seven creatures with his bare hands. Watched him move like violence incarnate. The logical response would be fear. Distance. Getting as far away as possible from someone who can lose control like that.
I’m not scared. Not of him.
I’m scared for him. Scared of what this is doing to him. Scared he won’t wake up. Scared that when he does, he’ll look at me with that guilt and devastation I saw right before he collapsed.
My fingers are still in his hair. I’m trembling. Delayed shock catching up with me. But I don’t pull away.
His head is warm in my lap. Heavy. Real. Alive.
“Come on,” I whisper. “Come back. You’re okay. You’re going to be okay.”
Alive.
Sarpi is dead. The hunters are dead. And I’m sitting on the floor of ancient ruins holding an unconscious alien who just killed everything in sight like it was nothing.
The facility’s hum drops to barely audible. The glowing patterns on the walls fade back to dormant.
Like nothing happened.
Like the universe didn’t just break every rule I thought I understood.
I check Tynrax’s pulse at his throat. Strong. Fast, but not dangerous. No visible injuries. The alpha that bit his shoulder didn’t even break skin, Scrapes were visible through his jacket but no blood.
“Vitals stable.” My voice shakes. “Unconscious but breathing. That’s good.”
Reality hits like gravity returning. Sarpi is dead. Our pilot who made terrible jokes about asteroid mining. Who shared his coffee ration even though we all knew he loved it more than oxygen. Gone. Just like that. I’ll process this later. I’ll grieve later. Right now, Tynrax needs me alive and functional.
Focus on Tynrax instead.
His eyelids flutter. Markings brighten slightly then dim. Coming around.
“Hey.” I touch his shoulder carefully. “Can you hear me? You’re okay. Well. You’re alive. That counts as okay for now.”
