Chapter 11
Serna
We left the cave at first light, when the twin yellow suns hung low on the horizon. Walking higher we climbed into the foothills, the more the temperature dropped. The jungle gradually gave way to scrubland, then rocky terrain dotted with hardy vegetation that clung to life in the thin soil.
Cullen walked beside me, his makeshift machete slung across his back, his eyes constantly scanning our surroundings for threats.
He didn't seem to favor his ribs any longer and the cut above his brow was nearly healed thanks to the dermal regenerator.
We moved in companionable silence, the kind that comes from trust and understanding rather than awkwardness.
Every so often, his hand would brush mine, and I'd feel that spark of connection—electric, undeniable.
We'd made love twice more during the night, sleeping in each other's arms between.
The first time had been slow, exploratory—learning each other's bodies in the dim light filtering through the cave entrance.
Cullen had traced every ridge of my pelt with reverent fingers, mapping the places that made me gasp and moan.
I'd discovered that the hollow of his throat was sensitive, that he made a low sound in his chest when I kissed the scar on his shoulder, that his hands were strong enough to grip my hips but gentle enough to make me shiver.
The second time had been urgent, desperate—both of us reaching for each other in the darkness, needing to confirm that this was real, that we hadn't imagined the connection between us.
He'd pulled me on top of him, and I'd ridden him slowly, watching his face in the starlight that filtered through the cave mouth.
The way he looked at me—like I was something precious, something worth fighting for—had made my chest ache with an emotion I couldn't name.
Afterward, we'd slept tangled together, his body warm against mine despite the cooling night air.
I'd woken once to find him watching me, his fingers tracing idle patterns on my shoulder.
He'd smiled when our eyes met, then kissed my forehead and pulled me closer.
I'd fallen back asleep to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my ear.
Now, walking beside him in the morning light, I could still feel the ghost of his touch on my skin. Could still taste him on my lips. My body was pleasantly sore in ways I hadn't experienced in years—maybe ever.
With Cullen, everything was different.
But something else was happening. Something I couldn't quite fathom.
My heart felt... different.
Not wrong, exactly. Not painful. But strange.
Like it was reaching out, searching for something just beyond my awareness.
Every time I looked at Cullen, every time our eyes met or our hands touched, I felt it—a pull, deep in my chest, as if my heart was trying to synchronize with something outside myself.
I'd felt nothing like it before.
I'd heard stories. Every Vaktaire child grew up hearing them—tales of true mates, of the moment when two souls recognized each other across the vastness of space and time.
When one bonded with their true mates, your heart would stop.
Just for an instant. And when it started again, it would beat in perfect unison with theirs.
Two hearts, one rhythm. A bond so deep that distance became meaningless, that you could feel each other's emotions, sense each other's presence even worlds apart.
For a long time, the priestesses of Vaktaire had claimed that only another Vaktaire could survive the stopping of heartbeats—that the bond was too powerful, too sacred for an outsider's physiology to withstand.
They'd said that attempting to bond with someone from another species would kill them, that the moment of synchronization would simply stop a non-Vaktaire heart permanently.
It had been doctrine. Law.
But Charick and others had proved that false.
The humans females they'd mated had thrived, their bond as strong as any pure Vaktaire pairing.
The bond didn't care about species or bloodlines. It cared about souls. And if your soul recognized its match, your heart would follow—regardless of whether that match was Vaktaire or not.
I'd always believed myself unworthy of such a bond. That my duty as Prime superseded any such gift.
But now...
Now I couldn't stop thinking about the way my heart had stuttered when Cullen kissed me in the jungle. The way it had raced when we made love in the cave. The way it felt now—like it was listening, waiting, reaching for something.
For someone.
Could he be—?
No. I pushed the thought away violently, focusing on the rocky path ahead. I couldn't afford to think about that. Not now. Not when Riuondo was hunting us, when every moment could be our last. True mates were a luxury I didn't have time for.
Survival first. Everything else later.
If there was a later.
"You okay?" Cullen asked, his voice low and concerned.
I glanced at him and found him watching me with those gray-green eyes that seemed to see straight through every defense I'd ever built. He knew something was wrong. Of course he did. He always knew.
"Fine," I said automatically. Then, because he deserved better than my usual deflections: "Just thinking."
"About?"
"About how we're going to get out of this alive."
It wasn't a lie. Just not the whole truth.
He studied my face for a moment longer, then nodded. "We will. Together, remember?"
"Together," I echoed, and felt that strange pull in my chest again.
We climbed higher.
The research station was supposed to be another two hours ahead, nestled in a valley between two peaks. From there, we'd be able to send a distress signal, contact the Alliance, and get the hell off this planet before Riuondo found us. It was a solid plan. Our only plan.
But as we crested the final ridge and looked down into the valley, my heart—that traitorous, confusing heart—sank like a stone.
The research station was gone.
Not abandoned. Not empty.
Destroyed.
I stood frozen at the ridge's edge, staring down at what should have been our salvation.
The station had been reduced to rubble—twisted metal and shattered stone scattered across the valley floor like the bones of some massive creature.
Smoke still rose from the wreckage in thin, gray columns, curling up toward the cloudless sky.
The acrid smell of burning electronics and melted plasteel reached us even from this distance.
"No," I breathed. "No, no, no—"
Cullen's hand found mine, squeezing tight. "Serna—"
"He did this." My voice came out flat, emotionless, even as rage and despair warred inside me. "Riuondo. He knew we'd come here. He destroyed it to cut off our escape route."
"We don't know that for certain—"
"Look at it!" I gestured violently at the smoldering ruins. "That wasn't an accident. That wasn't age or neglect. Someone deliberately destroyed that station, and recently. The fire is still burning."
Cullen was silent for a long moment, his jaw tight. Then: "How would he know we'd come here?"
"Because he's not stupid." I forced myself to think, to push past the panic clawing at my throat.
"He knows I'd look for a way to contact the Alliance.
And if he did his research on Msituni—which he clearly did, since he knew to come here in the first place—he'd know about the research station.
It's the only structure on the entire planet capable of long-range communication. "
"So he took it out before we could reach it."
"Yes."
The word hung between us, heavy with implications.
We were trapped. Truly trapped. No ship. No communication equipment. No way to call for help. And somewhere below us, Riuondo and his crew were hunting us through the jungle, closing in with every passing hour.
I felt Cullen's hand tighten on mine. "Then we go to plan B."
"There is no plan B."
"There's always a plan B." His voice was steady, calm, the voice of a soldier who'd faced impossible odds before and survived. "We backtrack. We sneak down to the shuttle. And we either hijack it or find a way to send a message from there."
I turned to stare at him. "That's insane. The shuttle will be guarded. Riuondo's crew will be there. We'd be walking straight into—"
"Into the only option we have left," he finished. "Unless you've got a better idea?"
I didn't. And we both knew it.
I looked back down at the destroyed research station, at the smoke rising from our shattered hopes, and felt something harden inside me. The despair crystallized into determination. The fear transmuted into cold, focused rage.
Riuondo wanted to trap me here. Wanted to hunt me down like an animal. Wanted to force me to hand him everything I'd fought for, everything I'd sacrificed for.
He'd destroyed the station. He'd killed Kalipuk. He'd murdered six other Prime candidates over the course of decades, systematically eliminating anyone who might stand in his way.
And now he thought he had me cornered.
"You're right," I said quietly. "The shuttle is our only option."
Cullen nodded, relief flickering across his face. "We'll need a plan. A good one. We can't just charge in—"
"No. We scout first. Watch their patterns. Wait for an opening." I turned away from the ruins, already mapping the route back down the mountain in my mind. "And when we move, we move fast and we move smart."
"Agreed."
We started back down the slope, leaving the smoldering wreckage behind us. The descent was easier than the climb had been, but every step felt heavier. We were walking back toward danger, toward the very people hunting us. It went against every survival instinct I had.
But Cullen was right. It was our only chance.
As we picked our way down the rocky terrain, I felt that strange sensation in my chest again—my heart reaching out, searching. I glanced at Cullen, at the determined set of his jaw, the way he moved with lethal grace despite his injuries.
Could he really be—?
I pushed the thought away again. But this time, it didn't go as far. This time, it lingered at the edges of my consciousness, a question I couldn't quite silence.
Because if Cullen was my true mate—if that's what this feeling meant—then everything changed. The bond between true mates was sacred, unbreakable. It transcended politics and duty and all the careful walls I'd built around my heart.
It meant I'd finally found what Chavon had with Ilayta. What I'd thought I'd never have.
But it also meant I had something to lose. Something precious and irreplaceable. And Riuondo would use that against me without hesitation.
"Serna?" Cullen's voice pulled me from my spiraling thoughts. "You're doing it again. That look."
"What look?"
"The one where you're carrying the weight of the universe on your shoulders and refusing to let anyone help."
Despite everything—the danger, the fear, the impossible situation we were in—I felt my lips twitch. "I'm the Prime. It's my job to carry the weight of the universe."
"Not alone." He stopped walking and turned to face me, his hands coming up to cup my face. "Not anymore. Whatever happens down there, whatever we face—we face it together. You understand?"
I looked into his eyes and felt my heart do that strange, reaching thing again. Felt it pull toward him like a moon caught in a planet's gravity.
"Together," I whispered.
He kissed me, soft and brief, then released me. "Come on. We've got a shuttle to infiltrate."
We continued down the mountain, moving carefully through the scrubland and back into the jungle's edge.
The twin suns were high overhead now, beating down with relentless heat.
Sweat soaked through my bodysuit, and I could see Cullen struggling with the temperature despite his military conditioning.
But we didn't stop. Couldn't stop.
Because somewhere below us, Riuondo was waiting.
And our only hope of survival lay in walking straight into his trap.