Page 23 of Stolen By the Wraiths
RESSH
The crew dispersed, leaving a silence in the briefing room that was heavier than any sound. The weight of forty-three lives, the horror of what we'd witnessed, and the impossible solution all pressed down on us. I watched Alix, saw the resolve hardening in her expression, and terror so profound it threatened to steal my breath washed over me. Terror born not of the mission, but of what she was willing to sacrifice for it. For me.
"My quarters," I said, the words feeling inadequate. "We should talk this through. Properly."
She simply nodded, and I led her through the quiet corridors of the Raptor. Her hand found mine, a small, steady anchor in the storm of my emotions. Every step catalogued the final moments of her existence as she knew it. The last moments of her unburdened humanity. My protective instincts were at war with my possessive ones—one side screaming at me to push her away and save her, the other roaring with the need to claim what was so freely offered.
The door to my quarters sealed with quiet finality, shutting out the rest of the universe. The space was small, dominated by the bunk and the scent of my own restless energy. But with herin it, the room felt charged, alive, every molecule vibrating with the gravity of our decision. I turned to face her, needing to give her one last chance, one final, honest warning.
"Before we do this," I began, my voice a low rasp, "you need to understand what it truly means. Not the tactical reports from Serak or the biochemical data from Deyric. You need to hear it from me." I took a breath, forcing myself to put the ugly truth into words. "This bond... it's a cage. A beautiful one, but a cage nonetheless. Once it's locked, you'll never be truly alone again. My fears will be your fears. My pain will echo in your soul. If I die, part of you will shatter."
I watched her face, searching for any flicker of doubt. Her pupils were wide in the dim light, her gaze fixed on mine. Her scent was complex—determination and deep, resonant calm that I was beginning to recognize as trust.
"And the separation," I continued, forcing myself to describe the agony I knew awaited if we were ever parted. "It's not just emotional. It's physical torment, cellular screaming for a missing piece of yourself. Your body will ache for my touch, your senses will hunt for my scent. You will crave me like an addict craves a drug, and its absence will be constant, physical pain. That is the price."
I had laid the worst of it bare, offering her the escape she deserved. But she didn't flinch. Instead, she took a step closer, and the air between us grew thick with her response. Her scent was changing, calm resolve now layered with something deeper, warmer. Anticipation.
"You call it a cage," she said, her voice soft but unwavering. "I call it a sanctuary. The only place I've ever felt completely safe." She took another step, closing the distance until I could feel the heat radiating from her skin. "You talk about the pain of separation, but I've lived my entire life separated. Disconnected.Always looking for the exit. For the first time, I want to find the entrance."
Her gaze dropped to my throat, to the silver markings that were pulsing with my barely contained emotions. She took a deep breath, and her eyes fluttered closed for a second, as if savoring a taste. When they opened again, they were dark with raw, honest need that staggered me.
"Your scent," she whispered, the admission a crack in her composure. "When you're not near, I can still smell it in the recycled air, and my body... it just settles. When you are near, like now..." She took another deliberate breath, and the arousal blooming in her scent was a sweet, intoxicating note that made my control fray. "It feels like I've come home to a place I've never been. You think the craving is a curse? Ressh, I've been craving it since the moment I met you. My body chose you long before my mind caught up."
Her confession stripped away my last defenses. This was not sacrifice. This was not reluctant choice for the sake of a mission. It was her, meeting my biological imperative with conscious, human desire that was just as powerful. She wasn't just accepting the bond; she was actively, urgently seeking it. The knowledge that she craved the very core of my being—the scent, the pheromones, the essence I'd been taught to see as a weapon—was the most profound absolution I had ever known.
"Alix," I breathed, my control snapping. My hands came up to frame her face, my thumbs tracing the line of her jaw.
"I'm not afraid," she said, leaning into my touch. "I'm ready." Her voice dropped to a husky tone that vibrated through my palms and straight to my core. "So, stop trying to protect me from the one thing I actually want. Claim me. Make me yours. I'm tired of being alone."
The raw honesty in her words shattered every remaining barrier. I growled low in my throat—a sound so purely animal it made her eyes widen with responding heat.
I hauled her against me, my own hunger rampant. My hand fisted in her hair, tilting her head back to meet my kiss. My other arm clamped around her waist, crushing her body to mine. The kiss that followed was nothing tentative or gentle. It was possession, claiming, primal imperative transformed into pure need that made my markings flare with brilliant patterns.
She opened for me immediately. Her hands clenched, twisting the fabric of my shirt as she met my kiss with hunger of her own. I could taste her arousal, feel how she was preparing herself for what we both knew was inevitable.
"Mine," I growled against her lips, both of us breathing hard enough that thinking was a luxury.
"Yours," she confirmed, her voice thick with want. "Prove it."
I didn't need further invitation. My hands found the fastenings of her clothes, stripping them away with reverent efficiency while she did the same to mine. Each newly revealed inch of skin was marked with my mouth, my scent, my claim. The flavor of her skin was intoxicating—salt and sweetness and something uniquely hers.
When I finally had her naked beneath me on the narrow bunk, her body flushed and responsive to my touch, the sight nearly drove me beyond rational thought. She was perfection. Curves and valleys designed for my hands, skin that flushed beautifully under my attention, and a scent growing richer with each moment.
But it was the sight of my arousal that made her catch her breath. The same elegant markings that covered my throat and arms extended there, too. Semi-translucent pathways pulsed with soft, golden light, the silver designs within shifting and brightening with my need.
More than physical beauty, she was trust incarnate, offering herself without reservation to someone who could destroy her with careless handling. The responsibility was humbling and arousing in equal measure.
"You're magnificent," I said, trailing my mouth along the column of her throat while my hands mapped territories I was about to claim permanently. "Perfect."
Her response was a soft gasp that turned into a moan when I found the sensitive spot at the curve of her throat. Her soft gasp was spark to dry fuel; a throb of pure, painful need shot through me. But this was about claiming her with such finality that she'd never doubt her place in my life.
My markings were heating under her exploring hands, becoming more defined and exquisitely sensitive with arousal. When she traced the patterns along my spine with deliberate pressure, current shot through me, making me groan and thrust against her hip.
"These are incredible," she whispered, her fingers mapping every ridge and curve with possessive thoroughness. "So responsive. Do they get more sensitive when you're aroused?"
"Everything gets more sensitive when I'm with you," I said roughly, capturing her mouth in a kiss that was all tongue and teeth and need. "You drive me insane."
"Good," she gasped against my lips. "I want to drive you out of your mind with need. I want you aching for me."
