Chapter 20
Niki
The Bardaga felt different this time.
Not the ship itself—the corridors still stretched forever, the walls still pulsed with that organic bioluminescence. But walking through them now, Enslak's hand wrapped around mine, his presence solid and real beside me, everything had changed.
Or maybe I'd changed.
My stomach was doing that thing it used to do before testifying in court. That tight, coiled feeling. Like swallowing rocks.
I'd defied the Alliance Prime. Stolen her son. Run.
The warrant Binwee mentioned in her message kept circling through my head. There was a warrant issued when they discovered Enslak missing.
A warrant.
For me.
My mouth was dry. I kept swallowing, but it didn't help.
"Niki." Enslak's voice pulled me back. "You're doing it again."
"Doing what?"
"That thing." He squeezed my hand. "Where you go somewhere in your head. Somewhere I can't follow."
I looked up at him. He was watching me with those gold eyes, concern written all over his face.
"I'm just—" I started, then stopped. No point lying to him. "I'm nervous."
"About Mother?"
"About all of it." I gestured vaguely at the corridor around us. "The Prime. The warrant. What they're going to say. What they're going to do to me, Binwee, and George."
We'd been on Avalon for two more weeks after Charick left. Long enough for Enslak's wounds to close. Long enough for me to run through every possible scenario of how this meeting could go.
Most of them ended badly.
Enslak had kept his promise about calling his mother. The third day after the Ulkommenian attack, when he could move without wincing, he'd sat down with the comm unit. He pulled me down beside him. Wouldn't let me leave.
"Stay," he'd said. Just that. Stay.
So I'd stayed.
I watched the Prime's face fill the screen. Watched her expression shift from cautious hope to something that looked like relief mixed with disbelief as she took in her son.
"Enslak." Her voice had cracked on his name.
"Mother." He'd squeezed my hand so hard I thought my bones might break. "I'm getting better. Every day."
They'd talked for over an hour. He told her about the memories returning. About the gaps that were still there but getting smaller. She'd listened. Wiped at her eyes. Asked gentle questions.
Never pushed.
When the call ended, Enslak had pulled me into his arms and just held me. For a long time.
Binwee's message had come on day nine. Prime wants to see you. All three of us. There was a warrant issued when they discovered Enslak missing. Don't worry—I think it'll be okay.
I think wasn't exactly reassuring.
We'd arrived yesterday. First order of business: the DNA tracker.
George had been waiting for us in the med bay, practically bouncing on his heels with that grin on his face—the one that meant he'd figured something out.
"It's not complicated," he'd said, pulling up a holographic display of Enslak's body. Tiny red dots scattered throughout like a constellation. "The tracker's embedded in his DNA structure. But it's not biological. It's tech. And tech can be scrambled."
I'd leaned forward, studying the display, my brain cataloging the pattern. The distribution. "How?"
"Targeted electromagnetic pulse." George's eyes had met mine. "I can rig something up with parts from the med bay and engineering. The Ulkommenian will never be able to hunt him again. Not through that tracker, anyway."
Something in my chest had loosened at that. "You're sure?"
"Positive. I've seen this kind of tracker before." His jaw had tightened. "The Trogvyk use similar tech for high-value prisoners."
He hadn't needed to say it. I knew what he meant.
Humans.
Enslak had been quiet for a moment. Then he nodded. "Do it."
George built the device in under three hours and came back carrying what looked like a modified medical scanner.
"This will sting," he'd warned.
Enslak had pulled off his shirt and turned around. I'd moved to stand in front of him, taking his hands in mine as George positioned the device.
The pulse had been brief. Intense. Enslak's whole body had gone rigid for the span of a deep breath.
Then it was over.
He'd sagged forward, breathing hard.
"Done," George had said quietly. "The tracker's dead. Completely fried."
I'd pulled Enslak against me, felt him shaking. Relief or residual pain. Maybe both.
"You're free," I'd whispered against his neck. "They can't find you anymore."
"We're free," he'd corrected, his arms coming around me.
George cleared his throat, his light gray cheeks darkening. He was such a skilled healer, I sometimes forgot how young he was. "I'll just leave you two alone."
"Thank you," I said. "For this."
He ducked his head, embarrassed. "Just doing my job."
After he left, Enslak shoved me against the wall. His mouth crashed into mine—all teeth and raw desperation. I tasted the adrenaline on him, felt the tremor running through his body.
"Need you," he said against my lips. His hands were already moving, pulling at my shirt, yanking it over my head. "Need this. Need to know you're real."
"I'm here," I gasped, fumbling with his uniform fastenings. My fingers wouldn't cooperate. "Right here."
He helped, tearing the fabric. His chest heaved, the scars catching the light. I ran my hands over him, feeling the heat radiating from his skin, the rapid hammer of his heartbeat under my palms.
His cock was already hard, straining against his pants. I could see the thick outline pressing against the fabric. I reached down and grabbed him through the material, and he groaned—a raw, guttural sound that shot straight through me.
"Fuck," he breathed, his hips jerking forward. "Niki—"
"I want you inside me," I told him. My voice sounded strange—rough, needy. "Now."
His claws made quick work of what remained. My pants, then my underwear, and then he was lifting me, my legs wrapping around his waist as he carried me to the bed. He laid me down and stood there for a moment, just looking. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide.
Then he stripped off his pants and I got the full view—his cock thick and hard, the head flushed dark. He was shaking slightly as he crawled over me, settling between my thighs.
I felt him against my entrance, hot and heavy. I reached down and guided him, and he pushed inside in one smooth motion. We both gasped.
"Fuck, you're tight," he muttered, his forehead dropping to my shoulder. "So tight."
He started moving, his hips rolling in a rhythm that had me gasping and digging my nails into his back. Each thrust was deep, hitting something inside me that made my vision blur. His breathing came ragged against my neck, his whole body tense with the effort of control.
"Don't hold back," I told him, pulling his face up to mine. "I don't want you to hold back."
Something shifted in his expression. He nodded once, and then he was fucking me harder, his hips snapping against mine with more force. The bed creaked beneath us. My breath came in short, sharp gasps.
One of his hands gripped my hip, holding me steady. The other slid between us, his thumb finding my clit and rubbing in rough circles. It wasn't gentle or practiced—it was urgent and a little clumsy, but it worked. The pressure built fast, coiling tight in my core.
"Yeah," he growled against my collarbone. "Come for me. I want to feel it."
His words pushed me over. The orgasm hit hard, my back arching off the bed as I cried out. My legs locked around him, my whole body shaking. He kept moving, kept pushing into me through it, and then he was coming too—his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep and groaned against my skin.
We lay there afterward, both breathing hard, sweat cooling on our skin. He was still inside me, his weight pressing me into the mattress. I didn't mind. I ran my hands over his back, feeling the tension slowly drain from his muscles.
"We made it," he said quietly, his voice rough. "We actually made it back."
"Yeah," I agreed. "We did."
He pulled back just enough to look at me, his gold eyes searching my face. "I love you."
"I love you too," I said. It felt simple and true and like the only thing that mattered.
The memory sent warmth flooding through me even now, hours later.
Yet walking through the corridors of the massive ship with Enslak's hand in mine, I felt that old familiar anxiety creeping back. The same feeling I'd had before walking into the captain's office after a questionable arrest, or testifying in front of Internal Affairs.
The feeling of knowing you'd done the right thing but not being sure anyone else would see it that way.
"Niki." Enslak's voice pulled me from my thoughts. "Relax."
"I can't."
He stopped and turned to face me. "What's wrong?"
"I just... I don't know what she's going to do. The Prime. We defied her. Stole you." I swallowed hard. "That's not exactly—"
"You saved me." His hands came up to frame my face. "Whatever she says, whatever happens, that's the truth. You saved me."
"I know. But—"
"No buts." He leaned down and kissed me, soft and sweet. "We face this together. Like everything else."
"Together," I agreed, feeling some of the tension ease.
We continued through the ship until we reached the same chamber where I'd first met privately with the Prime. The doors opened at our approach, and we stepped inside.
She was there, of course. But so were Binwee and George, both looking nervous. And Cullen, standing beside his mate with an expression I couldn't quite read.
The Prime's eyes locked on Enslak the moment we entered.
For a heartbeat, everything froze. Her formal composure cracked—just for an instant—and I glimpsed the mother beneath the ruler. The woman who'd thought she'd lost her son forever.
Then she moved.
She crossed the room in swift, graceful strides, her robes flowing behind her. Enslak barely had time to react before she reached him, pulling him into a fierce embrace.
"My son," she breathed, her voice breaking. "My son."