Aurania had officially run out of reasons to hate him. Which, naturally, just made her hate him more.

  She leaned against the reinforced bulkhead near the training deck, arms crossed, watching as Soren dropped into a controlled crouch and caught a blunt-force impact to the chest without flinching. It was a high-powered kinetic baton, the kind that left bruises through combat plating. He didn’t even grunt. Just absorbed it like it was a heavy handshake and rose to his feet again.

  Of course he was good in a fight. Of course he listened to orders. Of course he was quiet, disciplined, and not at all the feral monster she’d been perfectly justified in knocking out the first time they met. That version of him had been simple. A threat, a weapon, an excuse to stay sharp. This one?

  This one was irritating.

  She'd spent the better part of the past week watching him move with a soldier’s instinct. Not flawless, but trained. Responsive. Patient. And somehow still awkward as hell around anything not covered in blood or armor. Which made things worse. Because now she couldn’t even be mad at him for being dangerous. He wasn’t. Not anymore.

  He was just... useful.

  And tall. And weirdly polite. And built like the kind of problem she usually solved by slamming with violence or intimidation. Except neither of those would work on him.

  She scowled at her own reflection in the polished metal of a side panel.

  Get it together.

  It wasn’t like she hadn’t dealt with misplaced attraction before. Combat stress did strange things to the brain. Hormones got confused. Boundaries blurred. She was just recalibrating. That’s all.

  What she needed was focus. Control. A mission.

  Her eyes tracked across the training space again, the rest of the squad was cycling through warm-ups and simulations. Veolo had taken the next turn with the baton drills, standing just opposite Soren in the ring. She moved stiffly. Not her usual grace. Something was off.

  Aurania narrowed her eyes.

  If she couldn’t punch her problems, she could at least diagnose the ones getting in the way.

  She pushed off the wall and rolled her shoulders. Time to be useful.

  She’d made the call two days ago. They needed tighter formations and smarter lines. Commander Garrin and Admiral Marrow had both been impressed with the Orryx Station mission, and Aurania was sure they would be throwing even harder ops at them soon enough.

  So she’d put together a new formation setup based on what she observed during the last mission. During their next training session, she broke it down for the team.

  Soren had tilted his head slightly when he saw it, his name up front. Point position.

  She watched him register it. No flinch. Just quiet thought.

  “You want me taking lead?” he’d asked, neutral.

  “Look,” she said flatly. “All of Orryx Station I drug you around behind me and then you end up taking a cannon shot to the face. Now that could have happened to any of us,” she paused and looked around at the team. “But unlike everyone else, you got the fuck back up. It’s not personal. It’s just physics.”

  A faint grimace tugged at his mouth, but he didn’t argue. Didn’t protest. Just nodded once and muttered, “Understood.”

  That annoyed her too.

  If he’d pushed back, she could’ve justified switching him out. But he didn’t. He agreed, even though she knew he still felt every ounce of the pain. Like it was perfectly reasonable for him to soak bullets up for them.

  Because it is, she reminded herself. That’s what tanks do.

  The tactical shift wasn’t open to discussion, but Veolo spoke up for clarification:

  “Am I still training for armored forward?” she asked, arms crossed and eyes on the formation map.

  Aurania nodded. “Yeah. Soren won’t always be on point, you’ll be right behind him. Teaching is an excellent way to solidify knowledge so share what you’ve been learning with him.”

  Veolo’s ears flicked once. She gave a short nod and said, “I can do that.” She sounded determined.

  At the time, she hadn’t thought much of it. The formation was clean. Logical. It put their most durable asset out front and their next-best muscle behind him. Simple.

  But now, watching them work in tandem during drills, the way Veolo’s timing stuttered just slightly when Soren pivoted too fast, the way she adjusted her stance like she was hyper-aware of him, it was harder to ignore.

  Veolo was still performing. Still sharp. But Aurania knew her team. She knew when something was out of tune, even if the note hadn’t gone flat yet.

  She exhaled and turned away, making a mental note to keep an eye on it. She wouldn’t brush Veolo’s struggles aside like she had back home, but it wasn’t quite worth addressing. Not yet.

  Aurania sat on the low couch in her quarters with a tablet resting against her knee. The text on-screen scrolled slowly, a historical documentary of Earth’s major wars and geopolitical collapses during the late terraforming era. It had been forever since she’d studied the actual history of Earth, but she’d found herself drawn to the subject again recently.

  She wasn’t sure how long she had been reading, but she was sprawled with one leg hooked over the couch’s armrest and she was mindlessly chewing on one of the longer flowy pieces of her robe when a knock at the door snapped her out of the trance.

  She sat up a little, sighing through her nose. “It’s open.”

  The door slid aside, and Soren stepped in. His hair was still damp from a recent shower, and he wore the same black outfit Kizara had crafted multiple copies of. His posture was unusually tentative and he paused just past the threshold, like he wasn’t sure if stepping farther would be a violation.

  Aurania lifted an eyebrow and studied him for a moment, then set the tablet aside on the couch.

  “What,” was all she said flatly.

  He gave a half-shrug. “Sorry, hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

  “Spit it out.”

  He hesitated a moment, then took a small step inside so he could slide the door closed behind him. “I just… wanted to ask you something. About Veolo.”

  Aurania’s mind briefly flicked back to the battle circle, but she ignored it. “What about Veolo?”

  “She’s just seemed… off? I guess?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Things have been a bit awkward between us since, well,” he briefly glanced at her then looked away again. “You know. But, it wasn’t an issue during Orryx. But ever since we started trying that new formation setup, it’s seemed worse I guess.”

  Aurania gave a tired grunt. “Veolo’s going through a lot right now. Maybe she’s pissed you’re threatening the squad position she’s been training so hard for.”

  His expression tightened a little. “I don’t think she’s mad at me. She’s— I don’t know what she is. Focused, maybe? But weird.”

  “You’re probably over-thinking it,” she said. Then she laughed a little, almost an afterthought. “Brolgar seems like he’s still pretty pissed at you too, will he even talk to you?”

  Soren shifted slightly like he was uncomfortable. “Barely. I don’t really blame him.”

  Aurania looked at him for a beat. “Veolo lost someone too, remember? Kasey.”

  “I remember.” He looked at her hard for a moment. “All of them.” In the past his voice would have come out hoarse. He was haunted by what had occurred, enough so that Aurania felt little need to pile any more grief onto him about it.

  “It’s probably just left over from that,” she told him. “I’ll keep an eye on her, don’t think too much about it. But thank you for at least bringing it up.”

  He nodded slowly. “Right… You’re welcome.”

  He didn’t turn to leave.

  “Something else?” she asked.

  “Um…” he hesitated. “Violet and Veolo invited me to something private.”

  That got her attention.

  She sat a little straighter and narrowed her eyes at him. “Private how?”

  “I’m not really sure,” he shrugged. “Last night, they both came up to me in the large pavilion on E Deck. Violet’s technically the one who asked, but Veolo was with her. She wouldn’t even look at me.”

  He looked genuinely lost, like the whole exchange had thrown him off balance.

  Aurania raised her eyebrows at him. “... And?”

  “And they made it sound very hush hush but if I was interested, I was supposed to meet them back there today.”

  “When?”

  He raised his wrist to his face like he was checking an imaginary watch then flicked his eyes away from her, side-eyeing the wall. “Now-ish.”

  Aurania’s stomach twisted, just slightly. She sighed and sunk back into the couch a little, tilting her head to one side. Then she jumped up.

  “Fine,” she said in an irritated tone. “If it’s bothering you so much, let’s go figure out what they’re up to.”

  Because I want to know too.

  They didn’t speak much on the way down to E Deck. Aurania walked with the practiced pace of someone trying not to look like they were in a hurry. Soren trailed slightly behind, silent, his hands in his pockets and shoulders pulled just a little too tight. If he was nervous, he was hiding it well. Or maybe not hiding it at all, maybe that was just how he walked now.

  The pavilion wasn’t overcrowded, just some mid-shift lull. A few dozen Liberty Union personnel were in the food court, chowing down and chatting amongst each other. The lights overhead cast a golden spill across the modular seating, and the constant hum of the ventilation grid masked most casual voices.

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  Aurania spotted them near the far end. Violet, Veolo, and Amalia.

  They were clustered around a corner table, half-hidden behind one of the vendor counters. Amalia leaned against a support strut, arms folded, while Veolo sat perched on the edge of the bench, fidgeting with a spoon. Violet was standing, her back to them, but even at a distance, her posture looked... cagey.

  “Stay low,” Aurania muttered to Soren, grabbing his wrist and pulling them behind a bulkhead just in time.

  They peered from behind a vertical beam as the conversation drifted within earshot.

  “What, we’re spying on them now?” Soren said in a hushed tone. She could hear the amusement in his voice.

  “Sshhh.”

  Amalia shifted her weight and muttered, “Are you sure about this, Violet? Something tells me Aurania might get upset about this, you know she gets weird about him.”

  “Yeah, I know she does, it’s fucking weird,” Violet let out a sigh. “Maybe we should just continue without him.”

  Veolo’s voice cut through, clipped and a little bitter. “His loss anyway. If he was actually interested, he’d have shown up by now.”

  What are they up to?

  The three of them stood casually and they started walking off in the direction of the aft access corridor. None of them had noticed Soren and Aurania standing just a dozen feet away.

  Aurania leaned out a little more to make sure they were gone, then glanced at Soren.

  He didn’t say anything. His jaw was tight.

  She studied him for a second, her eyes wide with curiosity. “What are you waiting for?” She whispered urgently at him. “Let’s go!”

  They moved quickly but quiet, hugging walls and ducking through side corridors as the trio ahead slipped deeper into the ship. Each well over 7 feet tall, they trailed after the trio with the kind of casual urgency that only made them look more suspicious. Neither of them said it out loud, but it was obvious this wasn’t exactly a tactical operation.

  The group ahead moved with purpose, not fast, but deliberate. Every time they turned a corner, Aurania and Soren hesitated just long enough to look like they weren’t following them, which probably made it worse.

  “This is a terrible plan,” Soren muttered under his breath.

  “Shut up,” she whispered. “You’re too tall to look casual. Hunch or something.”

  At one point as they were hiding behind a corner with their backs to the wall and waiting for the trio to get further away, a pair of Liberty Union engineers walked past. The engineers gave them an odd look and Soren awkwardly smiled and waved at them.

  She just rolled her eyes and told him to hurry up, slipping out from behind the corner.

  They kept going, but more carefully now, skipping a beat every time the trio ahead paused to chat or change direction. The light got dimmer as they passed into a lower-access section of the deck, unused for most ship personnel.

  Aurania turned a corner too fast and nearly walked straight into one of the trio doubling back.

  “Get back,” Soren hissed, grabbing her by the wrist.

  She barely had time to catch herself before he pulled her in, guiding her behind the bulkhead. Her spine hit the wall and he was suddenly right there, one arm braced against the wall just beside her head, his chest less than an inch from hers. The moment froze.

  Aurania stilled and her heartbeat thumped in her ears. She could smell him— faint oil, warm iron, frost and spice and a clean sharpness like ozone after lightning. It flooded her nose like static.

  Her pulse kicked up. She tried not to react, but failed.

  He noticed and his eyes flicked down briefly, not to her body, but to her mouth and throat. Like he was suddenly aware of how close they were. Slowly, almost sheepishly, he lowered his arm and took half a step back.

  “Sorry,” he said quietly, almost reflexive.

  She flared her nostrils and huffed through them, trying to reset the moment. Her voice came out low, a little sharp. “Don’t worry about it. What are they doing?”

  Soren leaned slightly, just enough to peek around the edge.

  “They’re talking to someone,” he whispered. “I think… yeah, Amalia’s speaking but I can’t tell about what.

  Soren leaned back from the corner. “Want to get closer?”

  She opened her mouth to respond— and nearly groaned aloud when she spotted the broad, gray-uniformed silhouette rounding the corner from the opposite direction.

  Admiral Marrow.

  His gaze swept the corridor and locked onto hers.

  “Matron Aurania,” he said, slowing to a halt. “A moment?”

  Of all the damned times—

  She plastered on something that resembled professionalism and stepped away from the bulkhead, keeping her voice level. “Of course, Admiral.”

  She turned toward Soren and hissed low enough for only him to hear. “Go. Stay on them. Do not let them notice you.”

  He looked uncertain. “You sure—”

  “Go,” she said through her teeth. “I’ll catch up.”

  He nodded and disappeared into the shadows ahead.

  Marrow stopped a few feet from her, hands clasped behind his back like he was about to deliver a field debrief. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes kept drifting over her. Not uncomfortably, just... longer than necessary.

  “I’ve been reviewing the combat logs from Orryx Station,” he said.

  “Then you already know the outcome,” she replied. “Commander Garrin relayed how pleased you were with our work.”

  “Yes,” he said. “The Liberty Union is fortunate to have your talents on loan. I hope you find the current accommodations acceptable?”

  “They're functional,” she said curtly. “Was there something else?”

  He cleared his throat, and for a moment, just a flicker, she saw something crack in his perfect military posture. A hesitation.

  “I was considering,” he said, slow and deliberate, “whether you might be open to joining me in the officers’ lounge. Tonight. For a... more relaxed debrief.”

  There it was.

  Aurania blinked once. “You’re asking me on a date.”

  He coughed. “A meeting. With beverages. And fewer datapads.”

  “Oh,” she said, buying time. “Um— tonight?”

  Marrow gave a single nod. “If your schedule allows.”

  She felt her mouth start to move before her brain caught up. “I think— uh. I think I’m tied up tonight. Briefing review and… a thing. Prep work. But maybe tomorrow?”

  Marrow’s brow creased. “Unfortunately, I’ll be indisposed for most of tomorrow.” His hand raised to his chin as he thought.

  She felt her stomach twist, not at the missed opportunity, but at how far ahead Soren was probably getting right now.

  She forced a small smile. “Then… maybe a raincheck?”

  Marrow held her gaze a moment longer than she liked, then nodded again. “Of course. Whenever your time permits.”

  She was already turning. “Thank you, Admiral.” And then she was gone, hooves clicking fast down the corridor, already regretting every word that had come out of her mouth.

  Aurania caught up a few minutes later, her nerves still slightly irritated from the Marrow interaction.

  She found Soren standing near the end of a low-lit corridor, pressed against the wall just shy of a closed door. He looked back at her as she approached, one brow slightly raised like he’d been waiting longer than he had.

  “What are you doing?” she hissed.

  “Watching,” he murmured. “Amalia’s guarding that door.”

  Aurania leaned forward just enough to peek. Sure enough, Amalia stood planted directly in front of a sealed hatch, arms crossed, back straight, like she was absolutely not trying to look casual.

  “Guarding what?” Aurania asked.

  Soren shrugged with exaggerated innocence. “Couldn’t say.”

  She rolled her eyes and strode forward. Amalia straightened when she saw her.

  “Uhh, hey boss. Nothing noteworthy going on here.”

  “Uh-huh.” Aurania’s eyes narrowed. “So you’re just standing here in front of a sealed door at the ass-end of the ship for fun?”

  Amalia opened her mouth to reply, and was immediately interrupted by a loud, unmistakable moan from inside the room.

  Aurania blinked and raised her eyebrows.

  Amalia winced. “Okay so you know how Veolo’s been kind of moodier than usual lately?”

  Aurania crossed her arms, already regretting asking. She closed her eyes and said, “Yes…”

  Amalia scratched her head. “Well, Violet was getting sick of it. She figured Veolo’s development was making her a bit, uh… pent up.”

  Soren looked between them, confused. “Development? Pent up? Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

  “Yeah,” Amalia said with a helpless little laugh. “Sexually frustrated. She’s almost twenty-seven, right in the middle of her physical and emotional development window. And we can’t have her getting backed up from clit to crosshairs and fucking up on a mission, so Violet’s kinda… helping her sort through it.”

  Aurania groaned and facepalmed. “And they couldn’t do this in their bunks because…?”

  Another moan sounded, deeper this time. Definitely male.

  Amalia made a helpless gesture. “Violet may have enlisted some help from the LU.” She looked at Soren then back to Aurania. “You sound upset, do you want me to stop them?”

  Aurania sighed, pinched the bridge of her nose, then shook her head. “No. Just don’t get us caught. I can’t tell Samara that Veolo got so horny that she doomed Nox.”

  The door swung open. Violet stood there, cheeks flushed and wearing nothing but half of her usual twin-ponytail hairstyle.

  “Oh, hey boss,” she said casually, then glanced Soren up and down. “You showed after all. Wanna join?”

  Soren stared at her like she’d spoken in a different language. His mouth opened slightly. Then closed. Then opened again. “I—uh—no. I’m—thank you? But no.”

  Aurania glanced at him sidelong, wondering whether he would’ve said yes if she hadn’t been standing there.

  Another, very different male voice groaned from within.

  Aurania folded her arms. “How many people from the LU did you ask for help?”

  Amalia’s eyes darted away. “Uhh, a couple.”

  Then the sound of something knocking over echoed through the door followed by a distinctly female gasp, definitely not Veolo.

  Amalia grinned awkwardly.

  Violet smirked and shrugged. “Sorry but not sorry. I don’t like to just watch.” Then she disappeared back inside, pulling the door closed behind her.

  An awkward silence followed.

  Aurania rubbed the side of her face, then finally exhaled. “Look. I’m glad you’re helping Veolo work through her issues. But if word of this gets out…”

  She looked Amalia dead in the eye. “I didn’t hear shit. I knew nothing, got it?”

  Amalia saluted in a comically exaggerated way. “Knew about what, boss?”

  They walked back in silence. Not the comfortable kind.

  Aurania kept her gaze forward, arms folded behind her back, hooves clicking against the metal floor. Soren stayed just behind her, matching her pace but keeping a half-step of distance, like he wasn’t sure how much proximity counted as normal anymore.

  When they reached the main hall junction, she finally broke the silence.

  “You don’t feel left out, do you?” she said, tone neutral. “Seems like Veolo was trying to include you.”

  He gave a small, awkward laugh. “No. I don’t need my first fuck in 8,000 years to have so many witnesses. Or participants.”

  Aurania smirked, but didn’t look at him.

  A few more steps passed in silence.

  Then Soren said, “Amalia sure is close with her sister.” It came out haltingly, like he was already regretting it before he finished the sentence.

  Aurania turned her head slightly, expression flat. “Ew, you say it like she’s in there fucking her sister.” The tone hit sharper than she intended, but she didn’t correct it.

  Soren raised his hands slightly. “N-no, no— I’m just… trying to get used to all the changes. Sorry.”

  She clicked her tongue once, then looked ahead again. “Amalia will probably go join in once Violet’s had her fill.”

  She didn’t look at him, but she heard his breath hitch just slightly. When she glanced over, he was blinking at the wall like it had personally betrayed him.

  She couldn’t help but laugh, but she turned and left him there to sort out his feelings with the bulkhead.

  By the time she reached her wing, the quiet had settled in. The kind that made her thoughts louder than she wanted them to be. Aurania replayed the night’s events in her head like a training reel gone off-script: Soren pulling her into the wall, the scent of him still caught somewhere between her nose and memory; Amalia guarding a door like a smug little sentry; Veolo moaning loud enough to echo down the corridor.

  And then Marrow. Stars help her, Marrow. She grimaced.

  She wasn’t looking forward to whatever strained, half-scheduled “debrief” he might try again, nor how awkward she’d have to act to avoid it. He commanded the entire damn ship, she wouldn’t be able to avoid him forever.

  Still… she’d be lying if she said the whole corridor-hopping mess hadn’t been a little fun. The chase, the banter, the secrecy. Sneaking through the shadows beside Soren like they were partners in some low-stakes op that somehow turned into a live-action sex comedy.

  And godsdammit, he smelled good.

  She sighed, fingers brushing the panel beside her door—

  —and then she paused.

  Riza’s room was down the hall from Aurania’s, and she spotted Elias stepping out quietly. His hair was slightly mussed and eyes softer than usual.

  He hadn’t noticed her.

  Aurania slipped into her room before he did.

  But the thought followed her in, uninvited and bitter.

  Even the broody one’s getting laid and I’m not.

  She leaned back against the door and exhaled. Then, without a word, she pushed off the door and crossed the room to the couch. She sat, quietly, staring down at the tablet she’d left earlier.

  Her thoughts flicked to the smell of frost and heat. To the weight of him, his chest almost brushing hers, the way his eyes had dipped to her lips.

  She didn’t move for a long time.

  Then she reached down and loosened the knots securing her robes, slipped them off, and relaxed into the couch.

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