"You possess a scavenger’s eye for the overlooked," he comments, a small, dark spark of something like pride flickering in his crimson eyes.
"I have a survivor’s eye," I reply, stepping closer until our chests almost touch.
I choose this proximity. I stay within the circle of his reach, watching the orange hue of his veins settle into an even, calm flow. The silence forms a bridge across the distance.
"You are healing well," I note softly, my hand sliding from his arm to his chest, near the mark.
"TheWeaveis efficient," he states, though his hand moves to cover mine, pressing my palm firmly against his skin. "But the focus is restored because the marker is secure."
“Stop calling me that,” I huff, stepping closer, though my words carry no bite.
"You are the priority," he corrects, his voice rumbling so deeply and with such absolute certainty that I feel the vibration settle directly into my very marrow.
I lean my head back to look at him, realizing that the monster has finally receded, leaving only the man in its place. We are stuck in a dying ship surrounded by killers, but standing here, tucked into the shadow of a Warlord, I feel a strange, fierce sense of belonging.
"We finish this together," I state, lifting my chin to meet his intense gaze. "Together," he agrees softly, closing the remaining distance to seal the promise.
Keeping my palm flat against his chest to absorb his heat, I forgo my usual habit of calculating the quickest exit route or checking my pulse, yet my focus remains entirely on the heavy, synchronized beating of his hearts. This tether on my sternum feels solid. Something about standing this close to him makes the ship sound different—quieter, calmer—but I file the observation away for later. There are more pressing things to think about than the way his breathing evens out when I'm near.
I accept the weight of whatever is happening. It feels solid, a grounding shift that sits alongside the survival instincts I've carried since the stasis pod opened.
"You're staring at the mark," Draevik mumbles in a rumble that I feel in my bones.
"I'm looking at you," I counter, keeping my hand on the base of his throat. "The mark is just a signature. You’re the one who followed it through a wall of fire."
A fierce light kindles in his eyes—a recognition of the altered space around us. He stays in my space, his massive fingers tracing the line of my jaw with a gentleness that seems at odds with his raw power.
"The path is clear now," he declares, his gaze locking onto mine. "The goal is the security of this vessel and the end of the vermin who touched you."
I nod, a cold, sharp resolve settling into my chest. I move toward the trauma kit one last time, checking the remaining supplies. I grab a few extraSovereign Weavecanisters and a couple of those metallic nutrient bricks, cramming them into the pockets of my suit. Draevik watches my movements, his posture upright and lethal as theWeavefinishes its work on his side.
He reaches for the secured emergency cache on the bunker wall, overriding its ancient locks and pulling down a pair of heavy kinetic sidearms—relics from the Hegemony era that look as pristine as the day they were forged. He checks the power cells with a metallic snap and hands one to me. The weight is substantial, a cold, comforting promise of violence.
"Do you remember the manual bypass for the ventilation scrubbers?" he asks, regaining its tactical edge.
"I remember how to do it without venting myself into space," I reply, checking the sights on the pistol. "Korr’s crew will be blindsided. They’re used to easy salvage and cowering merchants. They’ve never fought a scavenger and a Warlord in a house that hates them."
"Then we shall introduce them toVirex Prime," Draevik announces, stepping toward the heavy dark door.
I take my place at his side, my shoulder brushing against the healing ridges of his arm. The mark flutters with a robust light, a silent connection I want to keep.
Draevik slams his palm against the door override. The heavy deadbolts thud open, the slab hissing as it retreats into the wall. The hallway beyond looks like a graveyard of flickering shadows and the iterative, distant scream of the ship’s alarms.
"Stay close," he commands, his eyes flaring with a predatory intensity. "Try to keep up," I respond back, my grip tightening on the sidearm.
We step out of the bunker and back into the hunt. The door seals behind us, locking away the heat and the quiet, leaving only the mission ahead. We move as a single unit, two runes ready to burn the intruders out of the ship.
The hunt is on.
CHAPTER 22
DRAEVIK
The door hisses shut behind us, its heavy magnetic locks thudding into place with a finality that echoes through the darkened corridor. In the throat of the secondary reactor sub-level, my twin pulses beat a constant, percussive cadence. The adrenaline-fueledWeavehas finished the bulk of its repair, leaving the skin of my side tight and itching, a localized sun of regenerative heat.
A sharp twinge of pain bites into my abdomen when I shift my weight, a brutal reminder of the slug that nearly ended me. But the agony is distant now, overridden safely by the bond. I flex my arm, testing the newly sealed muscle. I am far more than recovered enough to fight; I am ready to tear it all down if it means keeping her safe. I power through the sting, my internal HUD flickering back to life.
The pixels are still distorted, a graveyard of red warning icons dancing across my field of vision, but the primary tactical overlays have stabilized. I run a scan.Virex Primegroans around us, a deep, structural moan that travels through the base of my boots.