“Insulation,” he says finally, his voice rough. “Barriers to prevent direct contact.”
“Right. Barriers.” I finally pull my hand free, immediately missing the warmth of his touch. “Always important to have proper barriers.”
The double meaning isn’t lost on either of us. We’re talking about energy fields and safety protocols, but really we’re talking about the walls I’ve built, the careful distance I maintain, the barriers that are starting to feel less like protection and more like prison walls.
A sharp sound from outside makes us both freeze. Voices, getting closer.
“The search team,” Ja’war says grimly. “They have found our trail.”
Through the ship’s hull, I can hear them now—multiple voices, coordinated movement, the crunch of many feet through snow. Getting closer.
“How long until they reach us?” I whisper.
“Minutes.” His expression has shifted from gentle longing to predatory alertness. “We need to prepare for the possibility of discovery.”
“What does that mean?”
He moves to a wall panel, touching something that makes the ship’s lights dim to barely visible levels. “It means we stay very quiet, very still, and hope the cloaking holds.”
The temperature in the ship drops noticeably as systems power down to minimal levels. Within moments, I can feel the cold seeping in, making me shiver despite my heavy coat.
“Come here,” Ja’war says softly, settling against the far wall and opening his arms.
I hesitate. The rational part of my brain knows this is necessary—shared body heat, basic survival. But the other part, the partthat’s been responding to his proximity all morning, knows this is dangerous territory.
“Fiona.” His voice is gentle but insistent. “You are already shivering.”
He’s right. The cold is starting to bite, and it’s only going to get worse if we’re stuck here for any length of time. And despite everything—the stalking, the lies, the overwhelming pressure of being declared someone’s cosmic soulmate—I trust him not to hurt me.
Maybe that makes me an idiot. But as I settle against his chest, feeling his arms close around me, his warmth immediately surrounding me like a living furnace, I find it hard to care.
“Better?” he murmurs against my hair.
“Much.” And it is. His body temperature runs significantly higher than human normal, turning him into the world’s most attractive space heater. I can feel the tension leaving my muscles as the warmth soaks in.
Outside, the voices are getting closer. I can make out individual words now—coordinates, search patterns, references to military protocol. My heart hammers against my ribs, but Ja’war’s presence is steady, calming. His arms tighten around me, protective and possessive in equal measure.
“Whatever happens,” he whispers against my ear, “know that I will keep you safe.”
The promise, delivered with absolute conviction, makes something clench in my chest. Because despite everything, I believe him. This alien who’s been watching me for three years, who’s risked his career and his freedom just to be near me—he would move mountains to keep me from harm.
The voices are right outside now. I hold my breath, pressing closer to Ja’war’s warmth, feeling his heartbeat steady and strong beneath my cheek. His hand moves in slow, soothing circles on my back, a gesture so tender it makes my eyes sting.
We stay frozen like that as voices get closer. I can make out individual words now, clearer as they approach our position.
“—thermal readings are inconsistent in this sector—”
“—check every tree line, the thing could be anywhere—”
“—military wants this contained before the media gets wind—”
Then a voice I recognize makes my blood run cold.
“I don’t give a damn what the federal boys want. That creature killed my cousin last winter, and I’m not letting it slip away again.”
Dale Wicks. Local hothead, mean drunk, the kind of man who sees violence as the solution to everything he doesn’t understand. If he’s leading this search party, if he’s been given any kind of authority...
I feel Ja’war tense against me, his enhanced hearing probably picking up things I can’t. His arms tighten protectively, and I realize he can probably smell my fear.
