She laughed.
The sound was bright as she caught the first Gravewing by its throat. Her other hand found its wing joint. She twisted in opposite directions. Bone snapped. Cartilage tore. The creature’s shriek cut off as she separated its spine.
The second one hit me, talons raking across my back. Fresh pain on top of old. I went down to one knee.
Bronwen made a sound I’d never heard from her—a snarl that belonged to a much larger predator. She grabbed the Gravewing on my back, hauled it off, and did things that made wet sounds. The creature stopped moving.
The third wheeled away, self-preservation overriding bloodlust.
My hands shook. Not from fear. From wanting more. From almost losing control of the violence singing in my veins.
“Mine,” she said simply, helping me stand. “Nobody touches what’s mine.”
The possessiveness in her voice sent warmth through me despite everything.
We reached the courier ship. The hatch was locked, but Bronwen simply grabbed the handle and pulled. Metal protested, then gave way. We tumbled inside.
The controls were standard—I’d flown similar ships. My hands shook as I started the launch sequence. Bronwen sealed the hatch behind us, wedging the twisted metal into place.
“Can you fly?” she asked.
“Have to.”
Engines roared to life. Through the viewport, I saw guards finally mobilizing, running toward us. Too late.
I grabbed the controls and punched it.
We erupted from the impound dock into storm-lashed sky. Rain hammered the viewport. Lightning split the darkness. Behind us, an explosion lit up the night—a critical system had finally given way in the compound’s structure.
“We did it,” Bronwen said softly.
She pressed against my uninjured side, her warmth soaking through torn clothing. Her satisfaction washed over me—not just at escaping, but at the chaos we’d left behind. The compound would never recover. Slade was dead. The shields were down. Every prisoner who could steal a ship was probably already gone.
I turned to look at her, exhausted and bleeding and never more certain of anything in my life.
“I love you,” I said. The words came out rough, cracked. “Should have said it hours ago. When you were transforming. When I thought?—”
She kissed me, fierce and possessive, then pulled back.
“I know,” she said softly. “I felt it. Every hour you fought for me. Every body you dropped. Every wound you took.” Her hand found mine. “I love you too. Have since you trusted me blind through toxic spores.”
“Your crew,” she said after we’d cleared the atmosphere. “They’re going to have questions.”
“Let them.”
“They might not accept?—”
“They will.” I turned to look at her, this brilliant, terrifying woman who’d become everything. “Or they won’t. Either way, you’re mine. That’s not negotiable.”
She smiled, and leaned into me carefully, mindful of my injuries.
“Yours,” she agreed. “Always.”
BRONWEN
ThePenumbra’sdocking bay was everything Zarek had described during our flight. Sleek. Dark. Built for war.
“There,” Zarek said, guiding our stolen courier toward the bay. His hands were steadier now—three hours of flight time had let his healing factor start working again. The worst wounds had closed. His breathing came easier.
