Akur (Restitution #3)

Constance

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Constance

The ship hummed quietly around her as she lay motionless against Akur’s chest, feeling the coldness seeping through his skin. Her tears had long since dried, leaving salty tracks on his teal flesh. She couldn’t bring herself to move, to face what came next. Not yet.

“Computer. Status?” Her voice came out hoarse, barely a whisper.

“CURRENT TRAJECTORY MAINTAINING. ALL SYSTEMS NORMAL.”

The emotionless response echoed through the cargo hold. She almost laughed at how absurd it was—systems normal, everything fine — while her world had shattered into pieces.

Her fingers traced absent patterns on his chest, remembering how it used to rise and fall with each breath. “You were so stubborn,” she whispered against his skin. “So determined to protect me.” Her throat felt raw from screaming. From crying. “But you did it, didn’t you? You got me out of there. Just like you promised.”

The ship’s gentle vibration continued beneath them as the endless darkness of space surrounded the ship. She didn’t even know how far they had to go or how long it would take to get there .

It didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered.

Her mind drifted to the other women—Meredith and the silent one. She’d left them behind. The thought made her stomach clench.

“I couldn’t even help them. Couldn’t save anyone. Some hero I turned out to be.” Her voice cracked. “But you…you never stopped trying. Never gave up.”

“You know what’s funny?” she continued softly. “I used to think you were just another one of those rebels back on the Restitution camp. Just another alien that I shouldn’t trust, even if you were helping me. But you weren’t like that at all, were you?”

She shifted slightly, her lips whispering against his cooling skin. The familiar scent of him was already fading. Fresh tears threatened to well up. “I never told you…about when you were in heat. I never…we never talked about what we did…or why I did it.” She swallowed hard, tucking her face more into his neck. “It wasn’t just about surviving. I mean, at first maybe it was, but…” She swallowed hard. “I liked being with you. Liked how you made me feel safe. Protected. Like I mattered.”

A bitter laugh escaped her. “Guess that makes me pretty pathetic, huh? Falling for the alien warrior who was just doing his duty.”

“But…if you’d claimed me then…told me I had to be your mate…I wouldn’t have fought it. Wouldn’t have wanted to.” Her voice dropped even lower, barely audible even to herself. “No one’s ever fought for me like you did. No one’s ever…cared that much.” The admission made a tremor go through her. All those times she’d told herself he was insane, bound by his warrior’s code that made him protect her. Just his sense of duty. She’d been such a fool.

The tears were flowing freely again now. God, she really was pathetic. But she couldn’t help it. “I never got to tell you. Never got to say that I…” She choked on the words, unable to voice them even now. As if speaking them aloud would make this reality permanent. Would cement the fact that he’d never hear them.

She curled closer, trying to share what little warmth she had left with his too-still form. The ship’s dim lighting cast shadows across his fe atures, making the proud warrior look carved from stone. She’d seen him endure so much. No matter what they’d been through, he’d always pushed through. But this was different.

Hours seemed to pass as she lay there, drifting in and out of consciousness. She didn’t rise to eat. Didn’t rise to find a place to sleep. She just…couldn’t.

The ship’s computer occasionally announced course corrections or system updates, but she barely heard them. She just remained there. Unmoving. Shivering in the cold but unable to rise.

She spoke to him, words spilling out in broken whispers. Stories she’d never told him. Things she’d always meant to ask. “Remember that first time? When that gator-guard broke into my and Alaina’s room? I was so terrified, and then suddenly you were there.” A ghost of a smile touched her lips. “This huge alien warrior, fighting like something out of a nightmare. You were ruthless.”

Her fingers absently traced the scars on his chest. “I thought all hope was lost when that tractor beam pulled me away from you. Funny how things work out—here I was, terrified of being taken onto an alien ship, and now…” She swallowed hard. “Now I can’t imagine being anywhere else. Watching you dive through space toward me, like some crazy guardian angel…that’s when I first started thinking maybe you were different.”

The silence that answered her was deafening.

She stared at one of the deeper scars crossing his chest—a reminder of all the battles he’d fought. How many had been against the Tasqals? How many others would fall trying to stop them? Her chest ached as she imagined them spreading across the universe like a plague. Imagining them bringing humans through that psychic rift they wanted to create. Many more would suffer. Many more would die.

“They’ve won, haven’t they?” she whispered. “In the end, they will win. Even if we destroy that orb…they’ll find another way…I can just feel it. And then more will fall. More good people will die. Like you.”

Her fingers curled against Akur’s chest in helpless anger. “It’s not fair. You deserved better than this. Better than dying for some worthless human who couldn’t even tell you—”

The ship shuddered slightly as it made another course correction.

“I don’t know how to do this without you,” she whispered. “How to keep fighting when it all seems so pointless. You were the one who believed in retribution. I just wanted to survive.” She paused. “But maybe that was your point all along, wasn’t it? That just surviving isn’t enough. That we have to stand for something. Fight for something.” A bitter laugh left her throat. “Took you dying for me to finally understand that. Guess I’m a slow learner.”

More time passed. Or maybe it didn’t. Everything was like a dream. The silence seemed to press in around her, broken only by the soft beeping of the console and the distant hum of the ship’s engines. Her body ached from lying in one position for so long, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave him. Not while some irrational part of her mind still hoped that if she just stayed there long enough, somehow…

She didn’t feel it at first. Too numb from everything that happened. But when her eyes fluttered open, consciousness returning, she realized she had drifted off. Her head was pressed against his chest, despite the wounds there, despite the evidence of all he’d done for her.

A slow breath released from her nose as she stared ahead, seeing nothing through vision that was blurred. Deep inside her chest, her heart was cracked into pieces, a pain in her chest that wasn’t there before growing so intense it was like she’d been shot.

Swallowing hard, she closed her eyes again…and that’s when she felt it.

There, beneath her ear, so faint she could barely hear it, was a flutter. The slightest movement.

Constance froze, even her breath stilling.

She didn’t dare move, too scared to hope and hoping all the same as she kept her ear pressed to the spot. Seconds stretched into eternity as she waited, praying she hadn’t finally lost her mind .

There it was again. A flutter. No. Not just a flutter. A heartbeat . Weak, but unmistakably there.

“Akur?” Her voice shook as she pushed herself up, staring at his face. “Akur!”

He looked as still as ever. There was no indication she hadn’t just imagined the sound.

Pressing her ear to his chest once more, she strained to hear. The sound was barely there, like a distant drum, but it was real.

Her voice cracked. “Computer, scan for life signs!”

“SCANNING…ONE LIFE SIGN DETECTED.”

Her heart plummeted. Had she imagined it? Fuck. Was she really going insane?

But no. She’d felt it. That flutter. That impossible, beautiful flutter.

“Scan again!”

“ONE LIFE SIGN DETECTED.”

No.

Pressing her ear to his chest once more, she kept her wide eyes on his face, her heart beating impossibly fast. Fast enough that it might have been sending too much blood to her brain.

“No,” she said, pushing herself up. “I know what I felt.”

Positioning herself over him, her heart thundered more as she stared at his cold, lifeless form. But she’d felt it. She’d felt the flutter. Clenching her jaw, she remembered the emergency medical training from what felt like a lifetime ago. “You never gave up on me,” she whispered, as she positioned her hands over his chest. “Not once. So I’m not giving up on you.”

The first chest compression made her wince, afraid she’d hurt him somehow, but she forced herself to continue. Each push against his chest was precise, rhythmic, desperate.

“ONE LIFE SIGN DETECTED,” the computer repeated, almost mocking.

“Shut up!” she snapped, continuing the compressions. “He’s still in there. I felt it.”

Sweat blossomed and grew cold on her forehead as she worked. Her ar ms burned, but she wouldn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. After thirty compressions, she tilted his head back, pinched his nose, and breathed into his mouth. His skin was so cold against her lips.

“Come on, Akur,” she demanded between breaths. “Don’t stop fighting now.” Another set of compressions. Another breath. “I need you to fight.”

Compression after compression, breath after breath, she fought for him like he’d always fought for her.

Because somewhere beneath her hands, so faint it defied detection, a warrior’s heart was fighting to beat again.

And this time, she would be the one who saved him.