She climbed up behind me with surprising agility, swinging into the nook and plopping down like she’d done it a hundred times.
“Home sweet viney home,” she muttered, looking around the small space. “Not bad. Better than the military bunker I was camping in before I ended up here.”
I took one last sweep of the jungle from my vantage, calculating distance, angles, terrain. I would track him tonight. Finish it. But not until I was certain she wouldn’t run. Wouldn’t stumble back into danger without me.
The shelter was simple but functional—a sleeping platform lined with soft moss, storage compartments built into the hollowed trunk, and strategic openings that allowed me to monitor the surrounding area while remaining hidden. The jungle itself had helped construct it, weaving living branches and vines into a resilient structure that blended seamlessly with the natural canopy.
“You built this?” Miri asked, running her hand along the smooth inner wall.
“The jungle and I built it together.” I activated the security perimeter with a subtle gesture, triggering sensors that would alert me to any approach. “Nothing will reach us here without warning.”
“Security system too? Fancy.” She settled herself more comfortably, crossing her legs beneath her. “So what’s the plan? Wait for the bad guy to get bored and wander off?”
I shook my head. “No. He will not stop hunting. Not while he carries what he carries.”
“And what exactly is he carrying? You said technology that could destroy worlds, but that’s pretty vague.”
I hesitated again. Legion protocols were strict about information containment. But she was already involved, alreadyat risk simply by being here. She deserved to know what she faced.
“A neural disruptor core,” I said finally. “Experimental technology designed to interface with sentient ecosystems like this one. In the wrong hands, it could be weaponized—turned into a device that could destroy planetary consciousness.”
Her eyes widened. “Like a mind-killer for living planets?”
“Yes.”
“Well, shit.” She ran a hand through her tangled hair. “No wonder you’re so intense about catching him.”
“It is my mission.”
“And what about me? Am I part of your mission now too?”
The question hung between us, weighted with implications. I met her gaze directly.
“You are more than a mission, Miri. You are my kassari.”
She swallowed, her pulse visibly quickening at the base of her throat. “Right. Fate mate. That’s...still a lot to process.”
“We have time.”
“Do we? Because it sounds like there’s a dangerous alien criminal out there with a planet-killing device, and you’re stuck babysitting me instead of hunting him down.”
I moved closer, crouching before her so our eyes were level. “Not babysitting. Protecting. There is a difference.”
“Is there?” She challenged, but there was no real heat in it. Just the same reflexive deflection I was coming to recognize as her defense mechanism. “Because from where I’m sitting, I’m a liability. A distraction. The reason your fugitive might get away.”
“No.” The word came out more forcefully than I intended. “You are the reason I will succeed. To keep you safe, I must complete my mission.”
Miri met my gaze, her expression curious and soft. “You’ve got that look again.”
“What look?”
“Protector with a dark secret.” She shrugged. “It’s hot.”
She had no idea what she was saying. But one day, she would. And by then, I’d make sure the only thing she had to fear was how hard she’d fall for the male who would give his life to keep her breathing.
Mine. Always.
I straightened, moving to the edge of the shelter to scan the surrounding jungle once more. The fugitive’s trail was growing colder—he had retreated, perhaps sensing the increased security, perhaps simply biding his time. It didn’t matter. I would find him.
