in the dark. I adjust course, cleaving to the path outlined on my HUD, jet-pack at maximum burn now, swooping upward in a smooth arc to intercept our ship, her docking bay doors open wide to receive us, a light in the darkness. Tracer fire spills silently through the night, and Aurora squeezes me so tight it is hard to breathe, my heart pounding against my ribs.
“We are inbound,” I say simply.
“I see you!” Tyler shouts. “A few more seconds.”
“Alpha, adjust course, zero point four deg—”
“I got it, I got it!”
“They’re not gonna make it!”
“Kal, pull up!”
A blur of rusted metal. A gleam of pristine light. A beautiful girl in my arms. And all around us, soundless. I see it in slow motion, the Zero looming before us, the tiny moments of my tiny life strobing before my eyes. My sister and me, standing beneath the lias trees with our father, training in the Wave Way. The Enemy Within, stretching and flexing, blooming like a flower in dark earth beneath his hand. My mother, reaching out to touch my face, the bruises we share bringing tears to her eyes, her words ringing in my soul.
There is no love in violence, Kaliis… .
“Incoming!”
The light swells, and I wrap my arms around Aurora tight as we soar through the open bay doors. I slam on my thrusters to slow us, twisting to shield her with my body when we hit the far wall. My teeth bite my tongue and my brain is rattled inside my skull as we collide with the bulkhead and crash onto the deck. I feel the vibration of the bay doors closing behind us. Aurora is lying on top of me, gasping in my arms. Bruised. Breathless.
But alive.
Gravity is returning and her hair is tumbling about her face, her nose smudged in blood. But as she pulls herself up to look at me, she is still the most beautiful sight I have seen in my life. Atmosphere has returned to the bay and she fumbles with the clasps of her helmet, tearing it loose and dragging her hair from her eyes, shining in triumph.
“Holy cake, that was incredible,” she breathes.
She is grinning, bewildered, amazed. Her eyes are wild, delirious at the simple thought that we are alive, against all odds, alive. And before I quite know what she is doing, she has reached up and pulled my helmet loose, too.
“You are incredible.”
“Aurora—”
And then her mouth is on mine, smothering any thought or word. She grabs my suit and drags me closer, sighing into my lungs as I crush her to my chest, almost hard enough to break her. She is a dream, alive and warm in my arms, and I burn with the feel of her, the smell of her, the taste of her. She is smoke and starlight, she is blood and fire, she is a song in my veins as old as time and deep as the Void, and as I feel her surge against me, the flutter-soft touch of her tongue against mine, she almost destroys me.
Kiss.
It is so small a word for so wondrous a thing.
Our first kiss.
I am aflame in the sweet and urgent softness of her mouth, the sharp press of her teeth as she nips my lip, her fingertips weaving into my braids. Her touch is maddening, there is so much weight to it for one of my people, so much promise behind it, and there is nothing to me—nothing at all—save the feel of her in my arms and the single word that burns like a first sunrise behind my eyes.
More.
I must have more.
The impact knocks us sideways, an alarm blaring across the Zero’s docking bay as emergency lights begin to flash. We break apart, Aurora’s lips bee-stung and parted, the taste of her blood still on my mouth. The deck shudders beneath us.
“You two okay in there?” Tyler asks over comms.
I look into Aurora’s eyes, and her smile is the only heaven I have ever known.
“We’re perfect,” she whispers.
“Well, not to rush you, but I could use my combat expert up here!”
I blink hard to clear my head, willing myself to breathe.
“On our way, sir.”
Aurora climbs off me and I glide upward, pulling her with me. I want nothing more than to linger here. To sink slowly into the unspoken promise behind that kiss. But the danger is bright as the fire she lights inside me. And so I take her hand and we run together, limping and bloodied,