Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 119846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
It was all too clean…too clinical. And yet somehow still filthy.
Bright helped Noelle climb into one of the cushioned passenger seats. Her knees wobbled as she sank down, and her face looked ghost-pale beneath the overhead lighting.
She shouldn’t have had to do any of this. Neither should Burn. But we didn’t have a choice. Thune made damned sure of that.
Bright fumbled for the harness straps and clicked them into place across her chest and hips. She sighed and leaned her head back, eyes fluttering closed.
He stroked her arm once—gently. She was already half-asleep—the effects of the pink drink taking their toll. Bright could feel it working on him as well…as soon as the adrenaline wore off, he was going to be damn-near unconscious. Still, he lingered a moment watching Noelle rest.
She deserves peace. She deserves better than us.
“Time to get the fuck out of here.” Burn dropped into the pilot seat with a grunt, tapping at the glowing controls, but Bright could see the tension in his broad shoulders. He was still wound tight. Still coiled with guilt and fury.
Bright settled beside Noelle, but his eyes stayed on his friend. Brother, really. They’d grown as close as friends could get without the Bond actually forming. And now…
Now everything between us has changed.
They hadn’t spoken of it yet—of what Thune had forced them to do.
But it lingered between them—every glance…every breath. Bright could still taste his best friend’s seed on the back of his tongue.
They would never be the same.
I’m sorry, Burn. I never wanted it to happen. I would have stopped it if I could.
And yet, his trousers were still tight, even as regret swamped him. The pink drink—whatever it was—was hitting him hard. His shaft ached, painfully stiff and throbbing behind the fabric of his trousers. It felt wrong to be aroused. Violent and violating and utterly out of place—and yet his body wasn’t giving him a choice.
Gods…it’s like my skin is too tight and my blood is too hot.
But the worst part was the dragging exhaustion waiting just beneath the surface—like he was running toward a cliff and about to fall off the edge.
“Need to move,” he muttered, swallowing against the sudden lump in his throat. “We’re running out of time.”
“I know,” Burn growled. His fingers were flying over the controls, but his motions were jerky…sluggish.
“Let me help—what can I do?” Bright asked.
“Nothing,” Burn grunted. He didn’t look up.
Then, as if reminded of something unpleasant, he stabbed one thick finger at a large glowing red button in the center of the console.
“But whatever you do—don’t touch the red button.”
Bright blinked.
“Why—what is it?”
“Home…button,” Burn slurred. “For when the driver’s drunk. You presh—I mean, press it—and it brings the ship right back here.” He shook his head violently, as though trying to clear it. “Fuck. That pink shtuff is getting to me.”
“Me too,” Bright admitted, fisting his hands against his thighs.
The heat was building. So was the fatigue.
He could feel it dragging at the edges of his consciousness—an invisible weight pressing down on his limbs.
Noelle was already fully out, her breathing slow and soft. Her head lolled gently against the padded cushion, her hair tumbling over her shoulders.
We need to get her to safety. We have to call the Mother Ship to fold space. Now.
“Quick—call the Mother Ship,” Bright urged. “We need to fold before we all pass out.”
“Doing my fucking best,” Burn grunted, brow furrowed as he toggled controls.
The shuttle trembled under them.
A soft whine built beneath the floor panels—a vibration that ran through Bright’s bones like a warning signal.
Slowly—agonizingly slowly—the vessel lifted from the docking bay floor.
Bright leaned forward, staring out the curved front viewscreen. The city spread out below them like a bad memory—Thune’s opulent palace rising in the center, lit in soft pinks and violets, garish and obscene.
As they rose higher, the atmosphere thinned, and stars bled into view beyond the horizon. The outer curve of the planet peeled away behind them like rotten fruit.
And still, Bright could feel his body shutting down.
So close. Just a little farther. Just a little more…
His vision swam. His head drooped forward once, then jerked back up.
He looked to Noelle. Her fingers twitched faintly in her lap, her body limp with exhaustion.
Goddess, please let us make it. Just let us make it back. Let this all be over.
Then darkness crept in at the edges of his vision, dimming the stars, pulling him under and Bright knew no more.
70
BURN
Burn’s vision wavered like a busted hologram—flickering between sharp clarity and a dark tunnel closing in around the edges. He blinked hard, trying to keep the controls in front of him from doubling. The unfamiliar console seemed to swim beneath his hands—alien metal, too shiny, too smooth—its buttons glowing in queasy shades of purple and green.
Stay awake. Gotta stay awake…fuck, don’t pass out now. Not now.