30 Akur
He couldn’t stop watching Kon-stahns. Each time an idea fizzled into nothing, outwardly, it seemed she was still holding strong. But he could see the way her jaw tightened. The slight furrow of her worried brow. How her fingers curled into fists when another plan proved impossible. Her determination both filled him with pride and terror. She would go back there—he could see it in her eyes. She would walk right back into that hell to save the others.
His chest tightened. After everything they’d been through, after finally finding her, the thought of losing her again made his blood run cold. He’d waited so long for this moment, dreamed of bringing down the Tasqals, but not like this. Not at the cost of her.
When she squeezed his hand in response, he knew she understood his unspoken fears. That was the thing about Kon-stahns—she could read him like no one else ever could. Even now, as the others around the table debated strategies, her thumb traced soothing circles on his palm, silently reassuring him she wasn’t going anywhere.
He stood abruptly, startling the others. “No.” The word came out like a growl. “The females stay. They are too precious to send back there.” Even as he said it, he caught Kon-stahns’ slight head shake. It was futile, but he still needed to try.
The one named Alaina looked at the one named Diana a moment before V’Alen spoke. “It is not our choice, Akur. We would have to chain them.”
“I’m not risking losing Yce,” Diana spoke up, chin lifting. “If he goes, I go, too.”
“The same with V’Alen,” Alaina said.
“And I’m with you,” Kon-stahns crossed her arms, a challenging look in her eyes.
A hot breath huffed from his nostrils. Qrakking crukks, were all human females this stubborn? Glancing at Kon-stahns, he saw the small smile twisting the corners of her lips. She knew exactly what he was thinking, and her amusement at his frustration only made him adore her more.
“They only need one human,” he stressed.
Diana squared her shoulders. “I guess that means we better not fail.”
Qrak.
He must have cursed under his breath because Kon-stahns huffed out a laugh beside him. Her hand found the small of his back, a gentle touch that somehow managed to both soothe and strengthen him.
“She has a point, hon.”
Hon? That was a term of endearment. See, this was why he couldn’t risk losing her. She meant too much to him. Had become essential to his very existence in a way he never thought possible.
There was only one thing to do. The plan that gave them the best odds.
“How do the vials work?” he asked, turning his attention to the dark-skinned female.
Alaina shook her head. “We can’t release it into the atmosphere, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
V’Alen spoke up. “It must be delivered to the Tasqal lifeblood. ”
“Only putting the odds against us even more.” Diana leaned on the table. “What if we synthesize it? Attach it to our blaster fire.”
“That’s what we were thinking,” Alaina nodded. “But there’s no way for us to target them all. It’s not efficient. Not effective. And most of all, they’d shoot us from the skies before we even land to start.”
“Their central treatment facility,” V’Alen spoke up.
“Their what now?” Diana sat up.
“The Tasqals manufacture all their treatments there,” V’Alen replied. “The Restitution has been searching long and hard to find it, to no avail. I have no doubt it is on that planet.”
Diana jerked her chin to her chest a few times, wheels obviously turning in her head. “Yes, because those assholes probably don’t trust anyone else to do it.” Her gaze slid to his. “Akur, did you see anything there? Anything that might suggest a large facility like this?”
He thought for a moment. He hadn’t been looking. But then Kon-stahns spoke up.
“Yes.” Her throat moved. “Before we saw that Arois…we saw something else. It looked like a factory. The gator-guards there were walking in protective suits. I remember because I’ve never seen them wearing clothes before. It must have been the plant.”
Silence filled the table; everyone caught in their thoughts as they mulled over the next steps.
“If we could get the vial’s contents into their next production run…” Alaina finally spoke, her eyes widening at the possibilities. “Every Tasqal in existence receives these treatments?”
“Affirmative,” V’Alen replied.
“They have to,” he affirmed, too. “Without them, their deterioration accelerates.”
Diana shook her head. “That only puts the odds against us even more,” she said, leaning on the table. “Getting into that facility— if it’s even the one you saw—won’t be easy. Security will be extreme.”
“But once we’re in,” Yce’s eyes glowed a little, “their own distribution network becomes our weapon. They’ll deliver it themselves, to every outpost, every ship, every colony.”
“The vial’s contents won’t activate immediately,” Alaina warned. “We’d have a small window before whatever effect—death or salvation—becomes evident.”
“Long enough for the shipments to reach their territories.” Diana seemed to perk up. “By the time they realize something is wrong…”
“It will already be everywhere…” he murmured.
Qrak him. He knew exactly what they needed to do. Gaze shifting to Kon-stahns, he saw her smile, too. He knew that look. Trust. Her unwavering trust in him.
“E’lot,” he said. “We need to get those vials to E’lot.”
Confusion was evident across the table, but Kon-stahns’ hand tightened on his arm. Whatever risks he was about to take, he could see the fear in her eyes. But there was also unwavering support.
“Yce.” He turned to the Arois. “You can reach minds across space. Find E’lot through me. Send him a message.”
“What?” Kon-stahns stood now, alarm clear in her voice. “Is that even possible?” Her protective instincts were as strong as his own, he realized with a surge of affection.
Yce’s eyes glowed slightly. “The Tasqals have defenses in place. Barriers even I struggle to breach. It is why I could not find you in the first place, Akur. Why that base of theirs is so elusive. And if they’re using one of my kind…” He trailed off, the implications hanging heavy in the air.
“Try.” He moved closer to the Arois, but Constance’s hand remained firmly on his arm. “Through me. I was the last one with him. I saw the planet. I was there. Perhaps that will be enough.”
Yce stood slowly. They all watched as he moved around the table to stand right in front of him.
“Akur…” Kon-stahns’ voice carried a wealth of emotion—fear, something warm and deep that felt like a cloak around him, and concern.
He turned to face her fully, cupping her face in his hands. “I won’t die, bright eyes.”
“So you’ve been telling me…but you’ve sure as hell come close to it one too many times. ”
His lips twisted into a smile as he pressed his forehead to hers. “I’m tougher than you think.”
She scoffed, but her hands came up to grip his wrists, holding him there for a moment longer. “You better be.”
The others tactfully looked away, giving them this small moment of privacy. When he finally pulled back, Kon-stahns moved to stand beside him, her hand finding his claw again.
Yce barely gave him a nod before his eyes began glowing. Immediately, it felt like ice-cold needles pierced his skin. The sensation quickly transformed into white-hot agony that seared through his skull, setting every nerve ending aflame. Behind his eyes, colors burst and swirled—violent purples and sickening greens that shouldn’t exist.
His mind became a battlefield of sensations—memories ripped loose, thoughts scattered like leaves in a storm. The barrier between self and other dissolved, leaving him raw and exposed. Static filled his ears, rising to a deafening crescendo that threatened to shatter his sanity.
Through it all, he clung to one anchor—Kon-stahns’ presence beside him, her hand gripping his claw, her voice calling his name through the chaos. Even as the darkness rushed in, even as his consciousness splintered like unhooked threads, he held on to that connection.
Thoughts. So many thoughts. He could no longer tell which memories belonged to him and which were echoes of someone else’s pain.
Until, suddenly, he heard it—E’lot’s voice, distant and strained.
“—coming from all sides! Meredith, behind you!”
The sound of blaster fire filled his mind, along with bestial shrieks that didn’t sound like Hedgeruds.
“E’lot,” Akur said.
“What in the seven realms?” E’lot’s confusion was clear, even through the chaos. “Akur? How—”
“Listen carefully, brother. We’re coming. With an army. But first—” He felt Yce pushing the rest of the message through, explaining about the vials they would send, about what needed to be done if they didn’t arrive on time.
“Understood.” E’lot’s voice was growing fainter. “But hurry. They’re—” The connection snapped, leaving Akur gasping as he returned to himself.
He found himself on his knees, Kon-stahns’ arms around him, her face tight with worry. She was murmuring softly to him, words of comfort that helped ground him back in reality. “I’m here, bright eyes,” he managed, his voice rough. “I’m here.”
“Did it work?” Diana asked, already half-risen from her chair. Alaina’s hand was pressed against her chest while V’Alen had moved closer.
Akur nodded, allowing his mate to help him to his feet. “They’re alive. Fighting. But alive.”
The collective exhale was almost audible. Diana sank back into her chair, shoulders sagging with relief, and Alaina closed her eyes briefly, a silent prayer or thanks perhaps, before straightening with renewed determination.
“We need to move fast,” Yce said, his own voice strained from the effort. “Gather our forces. And pray we reach them in time.”
The others began to move, discussing next steps and preparations, but Akur held Kon-stahns back for a moment. In the controlled chaos that followed, they created their own small bubble of calm.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she whispered, reaching up to trace the line of his jaw. “And you’re not leaving me behind.”
He caught her hand, pressing his lips to her palm. Even in this situation, when his body shouldn’t respond, it did. Maybe because it knew this may be the last peaceful night they spent together. “I wouldn’t dream of it, bright eyes. Not anymore.” The admission cost him something, but her brilliant smile was worth it.
She was in his arms in a split click, her legs wrapping around him as he stumbled backward, her lips pressed to his. He didn’t know how or when he staggered back to his quarters or when the door shut.
All he knew was the heat of her skin, the way her fingers splayed across his skull, pulling him closer, as if she couldn’t bear even the smallest distance between them.
Kon-stahns didn’t wait for him to take the lead—she never did. She tugged at his tunic, dragging it over his head with a ferocity that made his pulse thunder. He let her strip him, let her hands roam over the hard planes of his chest, the scars she had once patched and bandaged. Her touch was electric, igniting every nerve in his body as she explored him like she was memorizing every inch all over again.
He wasn’t gentle when he stripped her bare. He couldn’t be. He was careful, but his movements were fast, desperate. He needed her skin against his, needed to feel her warmth, her life, her everything pressed to him. When her garments were gone, he pulled her close, their bodies colliding in a tangle of limbs and heated breaths.
Her nails raked down his back, leaving faint trails of fire in their wake. He growled low in his throat, a sound that came from somewhere primal, somewhere raw. She answered the sound with a gasp, her lips finding his neck, his jaw, his mouth again.
“Kiss me,” she panted.
Kees? But then he knew what she meant. Knew, because she kissed him like they might never have the chance again, and he kissed her back just as fiercely.
When he lifted her, pinning her against the wall, she didn’t hesitate. Her legs tightened around his waist, her arms locking around his shoulders as their bodies aligned perfectly. He could feel her heartbeat against his chest, fast and wild, matching his own. The heat between them was unbearable, consuming, and he didn’t want it to stop.
In that moment, there was no war, no pursuit, no danger waiting for them outside the thin walls of the ship. There was only her—her breath in his ear, her body against his, her voice whispering his name like it was the only thing that mattered.
And when they finally came together, it was with a ferocity that stole the breath from his lungs. It wasn’t slow or careful—it was raw, unrelenting, a collision of two souls who had been through hell and refused to let go of each other. Her body moved with his in perfect rhythm , every gasp, every cry, every whispered word driving him closer to the edge.
In the end, they didn’t just come together—they shattered. The tension that had been building between them for so long broke like a dam, and in its place was a release so powerful it left them both trembling. He collapsed against her, his breathing ragged, his body spent, but he didn’t let her go. He couldn’t. He pulled her against his chest, stumbling backward onto the sleeping slab, his arms wrapping around her as if to shield her from the universe itself.
For a long time, they lay there in silence, their bodies tangled together, life organs pounding in unison. Kon-stahns rested her head on his chest, her fingers tracing lazy patterns over his skin.
“Akur…” she murmured, her voice soft, almost hesitant.
He tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. Her eyes were luminous. Shining with something he couldn’t quite name. “What is it, bright eyes?”
She hesitated for a moment, then smiled—a small, tender smile that made his chest ache. “We’re going to make it, you know. You and me. All of us.”
He didn’t respond right away, didn’t trust himself to speak. Instead, he pulled her closer, pressing his lips to her forehead. He wanted to believe her, wanted to hold on to the fragile hope she was offering him. But the weight of what lay ahead was heavy, and he couldn’t ignore it.
“I love you.”
He froze. “Love?”
She smiled, her thumb brushing against his cheek. “It’s…hard to explain. It’s…it’s like…when you feel safe. Protected. Like nothing can hurt you. Like…like you’re wrapped in a warm cloak, even when it’s cold and dark all around.” She paused, her gaze searching his. “It’s…it’s wanting to be with someone. Always. Wanting them to be happy. Even if it means…sacrificing everything.”
Ah yes. That was exactly the description of something he’d felt but never named. The warmth that spread through him whenever she was near, the fierce protectiveness that consumed him, the bone-deep s ense of connection, of belonging. The feeling of being wrapped in star light even when surrounded by shadows.
“Ah,” he murmured. He could almost choke on the heavy emotion filling his throat. “That feeling.” He leaned closer, his forehead brushing against hers, their breaths mingling. “I…love you too, Kon-stahns.”
It was a moment of peace. A moment to believe that maybe, just maybe, they could survive this. That they could fight for something more than revenge—for love, for family, for a future worth living.
They had a chance. A small one, but sometimes that was all you needed to change everything. He knew, with a certainty that defied logic, that they would face whatever came next. And they would win. They always did.
Because some things were worth fighting for. Worth dying for. And as he looked at Kon-stahns, saw the love and determination burning in her eyes, he knew she was worth everything. Together, they would save their friends, defeat the Tasqals, and forge a future worth having.
The path ahead was dangerous, but for the first time since this all began, he felt truly hopeful. Because he wasn’t just fighting for revenge anymore. He was fighting for love. For family. For a future with the female who had changed everything.
And that made all the difference in the universe.