Page 6 of Hunted By the Wraiths
I stopped at an intersection that looked like a dead end, a solid wall of raw rock. “Here.”
I dropped to my knees, prying at an almost invisible seam near the floor. A hidden panel grated open, revealing darkness. An old emergency maintenance bunker, long since purged from the station’s records. I crawled inside, blaster first.
He squeezed in after me. The space was tiny, maybe three meters square. He barely fit. The panel slid shut, and the heavy magnetic lock engaged with a solid thunk.
Darkness. Then dim emergency lights flickered on, casting the cramped compartment in a pulsing red glow. It smelled like dust and isolation.
I took the far wall, my pack on my lap. He took the opposite, folding his long legs awkwardly. The proximity was immediate. Suffocating. He was too close, maybe a meter and a half away. I could feel the heat rolling off him, a dry, feverish wave.
And I could see him. Really see him.
He was in agony.
Inventory: One Tamzari, severely compromised.
He wasn’t just “pushing through it.” He was sweating heavily, droplets catching the red light. His scales, that sick gray-green, wrongness.
“What’s wrong?” My voice cut through the silence.
He looked up. His amber eyes were too bright, the pupils blown wide.
“The pain.” It wasn’t a question. “Being near me. It hurts you.”
He couldn’t deny it. It was too obvious. He just nodded, his whole body rigid. “Yes.”
A muscle in his jaw tightened. “The bonding instinct. It’s...” He stopped, searching for words. “Wrong now. Twisted.”
Tamzari bonding. We’d talked about it, years ago. Planned for it. Before Kestis Minor. Before everything went to hell. He’d explained how his species bonded for life, how the connection went deeper than human marriage. Physical. Permanent. We’d been ready to try.
Now something had twisted it into a source of pain.
“How?”
“Later.” His voice was rough. “When we’re safe.”
“How bad?”
He looked away. “Bad enough.”
“I’m sorry.” The words were useless.
“Don’t be.” His voice was rough, ground out. “Worth it.”
Worth it? He looked like every nerve was on fire. I processed the implications. “I can keep my distance. Make it easier.”
“No.” The word was too fast, too sharp. Possessive. He tried again, forcing a reason. “Need you close. Can’t protect you... from across the room.”
I stared at him. He was lying. Or, not lying, but twisting the truth. He wanted to be close, even if it was killing him.
“Fine.” I wasn’t going to argue. But the reality of it settled on me like a shroud. He hadn’t just come back from the dead. He’d come back broken. And his broken parts were screaming because of me. “But if you pass out, I’m leaving you.”
It was a lie. We both knew it.
He just nodded. Once. Sharp. His pain seemed to fade behind his focus. “Fair.”
“Now that we have some time, you owe me an explanation. What the hell was that?” I demanded, the adrenaline finally fading, leaving me shaking. “Why are they here? What data?”
Thoryn looked at me, his face grim. “My crew...”
