Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
CYAN
Watching her eyes roll back as she came with him in her mouth was the last straw. A low growl ripped out of him as he stared at her crumpling form writhe in ecstasy and yet still so dedicated to doing her job, sucking at his shaft. He fell forward over her, planting his hands on her splayed thighs as he squeezed his eyes shut and thrust himself home inside her eager mouth. He tightened as pent-up release built up inside him, his heart hammering through his ribs like a pounding war drum.
He didn’t register that the roar he was hearing was his own as he emptied himself inside her mouth, his hands digging into the soft thighs underneath him. Her tongue and throat worked as she swallowed him through wet, mumbling moans.
Once spent, all air and energy rushed out of him in a flood. Cyan sighed and collapsed backward, dragging Elaina off her knees and onto the bed beside him, where she lay dazed on her stomach. He panted as he caught his breath and waited for his heart to steady, but it just kept racing.
What if it never got steady again ?
“Do you want to stay?” he mumbled, bringing one arm over his eyes and splaying the other on the small of her back.
She muttered a yes, tucking herself closer against him, and he was glad.
Cyan drifted for a while, fingers luxuriating in the soft skin of the woman at his side as his mind drifted through nothing in particular. Drifting felt good.
His foot nudged something when he moved. The cool hilt of the sword at the edge of the bed. For a moment the world had been just them—her soft breathing, her warmth beside him. Would this ever be enough?
Cyan turned to the side and scooped Elaina against his chest, enjoying the weight of her head on his arm. He pushed the sword from his mind, for just a little while longer.
Cyan woke slowly, Elaina’s warmth pressed against him. For a moment, he didn’t move, lying still as his mind gradually returned to the present. Her soft breaths tickled his chest, and her body at his side was somehow very familiar despite this being her first time in his bed.
Soon enough, equally-familiar restlessness crept in. It was a string pulled taut beneath his skin.
You need to move.
Cyan gently untangled himself from Elaina, trying not to wake her. She shifted, half-asleep, mumbling something incoherent.
He liked the way she mumbled. Cyan smirked to himself.
“Stay in bed,” he murmured, planting a light kiss on her temple. “I’ll get us something to eat.”
Elaina didn’t open her eyes, just nodded against the pillow, her body curling into the spot he’d vacated. He watched her for a second longer, then grabbed his dataslate, shouldered the sword, and clicked his fingers for Priad. The warg lifted his head and followed him out of the cabin.
The station was quiet this early, but Cyan felt none of its stillness. Aimless agitation hummed just beneath his skin. He’d thought after last night—after everything—maybe he’d feel closer. That the uncertainty gnawing at him would dissipate. But now, in the cold light of morning, he felt farther from certainty than ever.
He walked down the corridor, stopping at a seat just outside the commissary. Maybe he could catch up on some work before the day began. There was time, with Elaina still sleeping. Priad’s silver stare tracked his every move as Cyan turned on his dataslate and pulled up the station access logs he’d received earlier.
He scrolled through them, noting the comings and goings of the past few weeks. All uninteresting, but he could feel something was there to be found. The list of names, transport entries, and exit times blurred in his mind. He just had to look harder. Cyan began his search from the beginning, going through each row of arrivals and departures methodically.
He paused on his third scroll-through. Something looked off. Scrolling to the bottom of the list again, he realized a row was missing. Earendel did not get many visitors, and neither did its orbital station. There had been sixteen logged arrivals and nineteen departures in the prior six cycles.
Only that wasn’t true. Just a few minutes ago, there had been seventeen logged arrivals. He was sure of it.
Where did that other log go? Cyan’s frown deepened as he refreshed the file, to no avail. A log line had simply disappeared.
The ping startled him out of his thoughts. Elaina.
Morning! I’m up. You coming?
He stared at the message, hesitating over the screen. He hadn’t been gone that long yet, plenty of time to finish this. Cyan shifted in his seat, turning his attention back to the access data and feeling the comfortable heaviness of the sword at his back. This was important. He was on to something.
When Cyan finally returned to the cabin with food and coffee an hour and a half later, he was elated. He hadn’t figured out the disappearance of the log, but at least he’d found a lead.
But as soon as he opened the door, his excitement drained.
The bed was empty, neatly made. He stared at the vacant space where Elaina had been barely more than an hour ago.
His heart gave an uncomfortable lurch. She hadn’t waited. And why would she?
This was probably a good thing anyway. They both had work to do. Not all the station’s systems were back online yet, and clearly Elaina was the only one on site capable of patching things up until he got to the root of the issue.
Cyan’s hand tightened around the dataslate still in his grasp, his mind replaying the message she’d sent.
Morning! I’m up. You coming?
It hadn’t seemed urgent when she’d sent it. He’d thought there was time. But now, standing in his empty cabin, it felt like a question that demanded an answer he wasn’t sure he could give.