Aurora's End (The Aurora Cycle #3)(8)

“Well, where the hells are we?” I raise myself up off the bed, head swimming as I get to my feet. “We have t—”

Saedii stands, so tall that she’s almost eye to eye with me. And placing one hand square on my chest, she holds me still. I can smell her hair, the fragrance of leather and lias flowers and traces of blood. I remember the press of her lips to my cheek as we said goodbye. The look in her eyes, her voice in my mind as I covered her escape.

“You have courage, Tyler Jones. Your blood is true.”

“We are undertaking tactical withdrawal,” Saedii says. “The battle with the Kusanagi was costly. Only the Shika’ari and one other of our cruisers survived. And both our vessels sustained significant damage.”

“I need to talk to my people at Aurora Command,” I insist. “Admiral Adams and Battle Leader de Stoy. The fate of the whole galaxy is—”

“You should be concerned with your own fate, Terran. Not the galaxy’s.” Her fingers twitch against my chest, pressing a little harder. “You are my captive now, after all. And your people showed me precious little hospitality while I was in their care. My entire command staff is of the opinion I should have let you die in your escape pod.”

My mind returns to my final minutes in captivity. That confrontation near the pods, those eyes, once brown, now blue, boring into my own. The mind of the enemy, the voice of a friend, begging me to stay.

Tyler, don’t go… .

Cat …

I love you, Tyler.

Saedii searches my eyes. Her hand still rests on my chest. I can feel the warmth of her skin through the Terran uniform I stole. She’s taken the time to change into Unbroken colors again—sharp black lines, sharper curves underneath. I can still recall the sight of her stripped down to her underwear in that storage locker if I try, but I’m desperately trying not to, because people who share Waywalker blood can apparently hear each other’s thoughts, and the last thing I should be thinking about right now is—

“What happened to the Kusanagi?” I ask.

“It retreated, heavily damaged.” She tilts her head. “Why do you care?”

“There were Terrans on board that ship,” I reply. “My people.”

“Is it your people that concern you? Or your lover?”

“Tyler, don’t go …”

“Cat’s not my—”

“She was.”

I nod, swallowing. “But that’s not Cat anymore.”

“Mmm.”

Saedii leans in closer, swaying like a snake, watching me through the haze of her long black lashes. I can sense it in her if I try—the rush of the battle we’ve just escaped, her thrill at the scent of blood and smoke and fire. She feels almost … drunk on it. And look, I know there are way more important things at stake right now, but a part of me can’t help but notice how good she looks, remembering the sight of her as we fought side by side, her eyes alight, my blood pounding.

Saedii presses her fingertips into my chest.

“We Warbreed have a saying, Tyler Jones. Anai la’to. A’le sénu.”

“I don’t speak Syldrathi.” I scowl down at her nails, long and black, pressing hard into my skin now. “And that hurts.”

“Live for tonight,” she translates. “Tomorrow we die.” She drags her fingers down my chest, nails catching in the fabric. “We who were born for war learn not to waste time on trivialities. Void knows when our time will run out.”

I nod, thinking about anything but the parts of her body now pressing against me. “We have a saying like that, too. Carpe diem. Seize the day.”

Black lips curl into a smile. “Ours is better.”

I wince as her nails dig deeper into my skin. “Stop it.”

“Make me.”

“I’m not kidding,” I growl, pushing her hand away.

As my skin touches hers, she moves, grabbing my wrist quick as blinking.

I gasp as a bolt of pain shoots up my shoulder, the throb in my head forgotten as she tries to twist me into an armlock. I break her hold, backing off with my hands up. “Saedii, what the hells is—”

But she’s closing before I even finish speaking, smile twisting into a snarl as she feints toward my face. Almost faster than I can see, she claps her hands onto my shoulders and brings her knee up between my legs.

Lucky for me, Saedii has landed this move on me a few times already—I mean, the boys didn’t feel lucky at the time, but, you know, live and learn. My muscle memory kicks in, and I block her strike.

“Have you gone crazy?” I demand.

She draws back a fist to hit me, but I shift my weight, twist aside. Letting her own momentum work against her, I shove her in the spine, sending her crashing into the wall, and she whirls on me in fury.

Her kick takes me in the solar plexus, and I tumble over the medi-cot, smash onto the ground, grunting as a heavy weight slams atop me.

Saedii is straddling my chest now, pinning my wrists to the floor. Her braids fall in black curtains around her face as she leans in close, breath hissing. I see a smear of purple on her pale skin, realizing with horror she’s split her lip. “Oh Maker’s breath, I’m sorry, I—”

And my words die as, without warning, she crushes her mouth to mine.