Page 196

“Three times.”

“Of course you did.”

I set her down.

For a moment, neither of us moved.

The air between us thickened, heavy with the unspoken.

Her hands, warm and steady, rested against my chest, right over the place where my heart hammered against my ribs.

I covered one with mine, my palm swallowing her knuckles.

“Still your choice.”

“I know.” Her voice was quiet but clear.

“You can stop this at any point.”

“So can you.”

I frowned, an old reflex.

Her expression softened, her thumb brushing over the back of my hand. “You get a choice too, Veyr.”

The words shouldn’t have landed so deep. But they did. More than I wanted to admit.

I lowered my forehead to hers, our breath mingling. “I want this.”

Her fingers slipped beneath the fabric of my shirt, cool against the skin of my stomach.

That was the end of conversation.

We undressed each other without hurry at first, though neither of us was particularly patient.

Her fingers worked the fastenings of my tactical vest, the same matte-black clasps she’d watched me secure in the outpost’s dim light, then paused over a raised line along my ribs.

Her fingers traced a patch of textured skin. “This one?”

“Blast fragment.”

She moved to a different ridge, this one more jagged. “And here?”

“A Barb’s claw caught me.”

She moved higher, tracing a pale seam near my shoulder.

“Blade.”

Then her touch stilled over the oldest one, a thick ridge across my side. “And that?”

I caught her hand gently. “Later.”

She nodded, accepting, but then bent and pressed her mouth to the scar anyway.

My breath caught. I went completely still.

She looked up. “That okay?”