Page 61 of Sixth
Her pulse stuttered, but she held his gaze. “I’ll hold you to that.”
When she finally left, his reflection lingered in the viewport, staring out at the black between stars. He reached up, touching the glass where her silhouette had been, and for the first time in his life, allowed himself to relax.
In her quarters, Emmy collapsed onto the narrow bunk, still in her scorched uniform. The hum of the ship wrapped around her. Every muscle ached, but the ache was alive. She pressed her palm to her wrist, caressing the slow, steady beat that matched his. No words, no promises—just the rhythm that boundthem.
Lume settled on the pillow beside her head. “You are safe now,” the creature said softly.
Emmy turned her head. “For now.”
Lume’s eyes shimmered with shifting light, reflecting the vast sea of stars outside—tiny worlds spinning in the dark, areminder that survival was its own kind of miracle. The sight drew out something tender and uncertain in Emmy, afragile hope that maybe, against all odds, they could find peace again.
Apex’s footsteps were quiet when he entered the cabin, the dim light glinting off his armor. He paused beside her bunk, gaze softening as he looked down ather.
“The others are asleep,” he said quietly, voice low and steady. He removed the last pieces of his armor with silent efficiency until only the black undershirt and trousers remained.
The tension in his shoulders eased as he sat on the edge of the bunk. For a moment he simply watched her, the steady rhythm of her breathing reflected in his own. Then, with a slow movement, both protective and loving, he stretched out beside her, gathering her close, his arm wrapping around her shoulders until her back was against the steady rise of his chest.
The warmth of him surrounded her, strong and sure, his breath stirring the hair at her temple. “You should rest too,” he murmured, his voice a promise rather than an order.
Emmy smiled faintly, closing her eyes. “Now that you’re here, Ican.”
Outside, the stars burned cold and endless. The Valenmark smoldered through the thin blanket, dimming at last to the same calm rhythm that filled the ship. Somewhere beyond, the echo of Voss’s laugh flickered across the void—but for now, it couldn’t reachthem.
Sleep took her at last, and the storm of Varnoss IX was only a memory of light.
