I step into the room as the heavy doors groan shut. "There are no viewports here. You spend too much time staring at theHarrow. It is a distraction you no longer require."
"You took the window," her face pale in the indigo light. "You’re burying me."
"Our pulses must be aligned," I step into her personal space. I leave her untouched, letting the weight of my dominance fill the room. "The ship has decided you are no longer a temporary variable, Nyra. And I have decided the same. You are a permanent claim."
She looks at me, her face flushing with a heat that makes the mark in me throb in a cyclical, possessive beat. She is a scavenger, a creature of the fringe who lives on luck and scrap and borrowed time. She registers in my systems as a permanent claim. I find that the thought of her leaving—of her return to the dirt and the vacuum—is no longer a scenario my systems can calculate.
"You're keeping me," she says, small but clear, stripped of its earlier bravado.
"No," I grind out, the word heavy enough to echo off the walls. "You are mine to keep. The void will not have you back, and theHarrowwill rot in the hull before I let you step foot on it again."
I watch her as she begins to pace the perimeter of the new suite. She moves like a caged feline, eyes scanning the seams of the walls for weaknesses beyond the walls. Here, the hull is thick enough to withstand a planetary collision. Here, there are no viewports to remind her of the life she left behind in the dirt. There is only the ship, and there is only me.
"Security for who? You or me?" Her eyes flash with that original fire. She stops near one of the beaming conduits, her hand hovering over it as if she expects it to burn her.
Without answering, I simply watch the way her shadow dances against the light. The ship falls quiet, its restless surging giving way to an unchanging deep thrum that feels like a long-awaited breath. It settles into satisfaction. We are where we are meant to be. I walk toward my primary console, the screens coming to life at my approach, displaying the vitals of the ship and—an unfamiliar addition to the sequence—a dedicated monitor for the woman standing ten feet away.
I gesture to the tray that the ship materializes on the central table. "Eat your sustenance." The food is nutrient-dense, specifically formulated for your biology. "You will need your strength for what comes next. The mark does not tolerate weakness in either half."
"And what exactly is 'next'?" She balls her hands into fists at her sides. "More kidnapping? More cryptic warnings? Or are you finally going to tell me why I’m actually here?"
"Acceptance," I proclaim.
I turn to my consoles, the bright data streams reflecting in my eyes. I can feel her gaze on my back—a sharp, prickly sensation that makes my skin tingle. She introduces a massive disruption to my logic. A variable that should have been solved and discarded. But she is a disruption I find myself unwilling to correct. Every time she speaks, every time she shouts, every time she slams her hand against my armor, it reminds me that I am no longer just a pilot of a machine.
She is mine. And in this deep, dark heart of the ship, that is the only law that matters.Virex Primemade its choice, and I have made mine.
"You're a monster," she breathes, though there is no real venom in the words—only a tired sort of wonder. She walks toward the dais and sits on its edge, her shoulders finally drooping. She picks up the tray, poking at the protein block with a look of pure disgust before taking a small, reluctant bite.
"I am the Commander." The title strikes the high vault of the chamber and rolls back down, boxing her in with the echo. "And you are the Bounty. Get used to the weight, Nyra. It is not going anywhere."
I hear the soft rustle of the charcoal silk as she settles onto the dais, still clutching a piece of the nutrient block. She is staying. The variable has become a constant. The ship settles into a low, contented note of finality, and I realize that the hunt is over. The claim is made.
My fingertips brush the terminal, tracing the line of the ship’s core on the display. I feel the resonance through the glass, an unwavering, warm pitter that matches the meter in my own chest.
“She is staying.” My voice, meant forVirex Prime, is barely audible over the roar of the engines.
Confirmed,the ship rumbles back through the speakers, the sound almost a purr.
I look back at her, thinking she would be sleeping. Instead, she sits at the dais’ edge, staring at the closed doors with wide, restless eyes. She looks like she is ready to bolt the moment my back is turned; her body coils with a nervous energy that makes her small frame tremble. She knows the cage has changed. She knows the leash has been pulled tight. And despite the anger, despite the fear, the mark on her chest continues to tick in time with the ship.
She is mine. And the universe can scream all it wants, but it will never take her back. I will build a fortress around her. I will build a fortress so complete that even the void forgets she was ever outside it. This ceases to be war; it becomes a sanctuary. And I reside as its only guard.
"Draevik?" she calls out, the two syllables echoing in the vast room.
“Silence.” The syllables swallow the room, but her use of my name remains suspended in the vacuum, a shimmering piece of data my logic filters refuse to overwrite. "Stay still. The mark requires your proximity."
I close my eyes for a second, feeling the massive weight carried byVirex Primearound us. We are moving through the void, a titan of metal and shadow, carrying the only thing in the galaxy that matters. She is staying. And after a thousand years of silence, the dark has finally been broken.
"I hate you," she declares loud and clear in the quiet of the Sanctum.
"That is irrelevant," I respond. "You are here. That is all that matters."
The lights in the Sanctum dim to a soft, gleaming indigo. The day's work is done. The claim is absolute. The scavenger has been brought home. And as I watch her sitting there, silhouetted against the glossy obsidian, I know that I will never let her return to the fringe. She fuels my engine's fire, and I will keep the embers burning until the stars themselves go cold.
CHAPTER 9
NYRA