"You lost the eastern supply line," she said, her voice a scalpel. "Again."
A long pause. Then: "I am not sound where you are concerned."
When they kissed, it tasted like broken treaties and unshed tears. Like the first wound of a war that would never end—because neither of them wanted it to.
"You should have let me die," she texted. "It would have been strategically sound." Www Xxux Com Video Sex
Her heart, that traitorous organ, skipped. "That's weakness."
The war room stank of ozone and desperation. Maps of contested territories were scattered like fallen leaves. Kaelen stood on one side of the table, his jaw a granite cliff. Sera stood on the other, her silver eyes lit with the cold fire of a winter moon.
A traitor's bomb had collapsed the east wing. The dust hadn't even settled. Sera was pinned under a beam, her leg bleeding. Kaelen, who should have run—who should have left her for the rubble she deserved—was the one who dug her out. "You lost the eastern supply line," she said,
He didn't answer. He just hauled her over his shoulder, his hands shaking as he carried her through the smoke. In the med-bay, as the automated surgeon worked, he sat in the corner, fists white-knuckled, watching her breathe.
"I know," he murmured back, his hand finding the small of her back. "I've built a career on it."
They met the next night in the abandoned observation deck, the cold vacuum of space pressing against the glass. Like the first wound of a war that
"Why?" she gasped, her face pale as bone.
But tonight, the ceasefire shattered.
"I hate you," she whispered, her lips an inch from his.