Page 40 of Hunted By the Wraiths
I wanted to ask about the chase, about how she’d managed to fly and keep me alive at the same time. But I could see it in the exhaustion written across her face, the blood on her knuckles, the way she kept blinking like she was fighting to stay awake.
“You should sleep,” I said.
“I’m fine.”
She wasn’t. But arguing would be pointless. Years of being alone had made her forget how to accept help. Or maybe she’d never known. I couldn’t remember anymore.
She set her empty container aside and studied me. Her hand moved to my forehead, checking for fever. Her fingers were cool against my scales.
“Your color’s better. Less gray.”
“The autodoc helped.”
“Piece of junk barely worked. Had to reprogram it twice just to recognize Tamzari biology.”
Of course she had. While I was unconscious. After flying through what was probably hell to get us here.
“Thank you,” I said.
She pulled her hand back. “Don’t.”
“Maris—”
“I said don’t.” But there was no heat in it. Just exhaustion. “You would have done the same.”
I would have. But that wasn’t the point.
She stood, moved to the chair, then stopped. Looked at the bed. At me. I could see her calculating. The bed was big enough for two. Barely. She needed sleep, real sleep, not the half-aware doze of someone on guard.
“The door’s locked,” I said. “Three different ways, knowing you.”
Her mouth twitched. Almost a smile.
“Four.”
“Sleep, Maris.”
She hesitated another moment, then sat back on the bed. Then lay down, still fully clothed, on top of the covers. Her back to me, but close. Close enough that I could feel her warmth.
“Two hours,” she said. “Then we need to contact theRaptor.”
She was asleep in thirty seconds.
I lay there, listening to her breathe. Feeling the bond hum between us, warm and stable and painless.
The war was over. The conditioning was broken. We were both still broken in other ways, probably always would be. But we were alive. We were together. And for now, we were safe.
My stomach was full. The bed was soft. Maris was sleeping beside me, her breathing deep and even. The bond thrummed with contentment.
I should have been thinking about next steps. About theRaptor, about the data we’d retrieved, about the Consortium still hunting us. But all I could think about was the woman nextto me. The way she’d fought for us. The way she’d refused to let either of us die.
She shifted in her sleep, moving closer. Her hand found mine, fingers threading through my larger ones. An unconscious gesture, but it made the bond sing.
All of those years in hell, thinking she was dead. But she was here. Warm and real and alive. Still too thin, still too guarded, still carrying weapons even in sleep. But here.
I turned my hand, gripping hers gently. She didn’t wake, but her fingers tightened on mine.
The Haven was dangerous. The Consortium was still hunting us. We had maybe a day before someone figured out where we’d gone.
