Arkon

ARKON

I woke to the soft dawn filtering through the jungle canopy, casting dappled light over us. Samira was nestled against me, her warm body pressed close, her steady breathing brushing my skin. Her scent wrapped around me, warm and familiar, and I savored the moment, remembering how she’d clung to me in her sleep, desperate for comfort against her nightmares.

But the reality of it crept in, breaking the spell. I was a Vinduthi bounty hunter, and she was… what? A target? An asset? None of those labels felt right, but I forced myself to ease away from her, careful not to wake her. She stirred, her brow furrowing, lips parting in a faint whisper of my name. My fingers twitched, tempted to smooth the crease from her forehead, to ease her back into peaceful sleep, but I stopped myself. Instead, I grabbed my pack, busying myself with our meager supplies.

A few minutes later, Samira sat up, rubbing her eyes, looking so disoriented and soft that it made my chest ache. She caught me watching her and gave a small, sleepy smile. “Morning.”

I straightened up, suddenly tense. “We should… uh, we should move soon,” I said, voice gruffer than intended.

She blinked, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Good morning to you, too.” She shifted to her feet, her movements fluid as she adjusted her pack. I watched her hands, noting the way her fingers moved with a quiet confidence. When had I started noticing those details?

“Did you… sleep well?” I asked, clearing my throat, trying to keep my voice casual.

Her gaze flicked up to meet mine, then darted away just as quickly. “Better than I thought I would.” She paused, glancing at me from beneath her lashes. “Thanks to you.”

The tension between us was thick and tangled, and it only seemed to grow in the silence. I nodded, trying to ignore the heat crawling up my neck. “Good. That’s… good.”

She tilted her head, watching me with a curious intensity, like she was searching for something in my expression. “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice soft. “For last night. For… being there.”

Our eyes met, and the words lodged in my throat. A simple nod was all I managed, too aware of how close we stood, of how her hand hovered near mine, almost, but not quite, brushing my fingers.

After a beat, she turned away, resuming her work, though her cheeks were flushed, and I could tell she was just as rattled. We packed in silence, both of us stealing glances, both pretending not to notice the other’s gaze. The unspoken tension simmered between us, an electric current we couldn’t acknowledge but couldn’t ignore.

We set out, me taking point. But my mind kept drifting back to last night. Samira’s vulnerability as she’d described her nightmares. The trust in her eyes as she’d allowed me to hold her.

I shook myself out of it. We had a mission. Stopping the Consortium’s mind-control scheme was more important than... whatever this thing between us was becoming.

A steep incline loomed ahead. I held out a hand to help Samira up the treacherous slope. She took it without hesitation, her fingers intertwining with mine. The simple touch sent a fire coursing through me.

At the top, I pulled her up perhaps a bit too forcefully. She stumbled against my chest. For a heartbeat, we stood there, bodies pressed close. I could feel the rapid rise and fall of her breathing.

“Thanks,” Samira murmured, not quite meeting my eyes as she stepped back.

This was getting dangerous. I needed to maintain professional distance. But with every passing hour, that resolve weakened.

We pressed on through the dense foliage. I constantly scanned for threats, both to our safety and to my rapidly crumbling emotional walls.

The midday sun beat down on us as we found a small clearing to rest. I pulled out our meager rations, dividing them equally. Samira settled beside me, close enough that her arm brushed mine as she reached for her share. We ate in silence, the jungle’s constant hum of life surrounding us.

I caught myself staring at Samira, watching the way she delicately picked apart a piece of dried fruit. A stray lock of hair fell across her face, and I had to fight the urge to brush it back. She glanced up, catching me looking. I quickly averted my gaze, focusing intently on my own food.

“How much farther do you think?” Samira asked, breaking the silence.

I rubbed the back of my neck, my skin prickling with a heat I couldn’t shake. “If we maintain this pace, we should reach the abandoned outpost by nightfall tomorrow.”

She nodded, her brow furrowing slightly. “And then?”

“And then we synthesize your counteragent,” I nodded. “And hope it works.”

Samira’s hand found mine, squeezing gently. “It will work. It has to.”

I looked down at our joined hands, my gray skin a stark contrast to her warm brown. When had this become so... comfortable? I should pull away, maintain that professional distance. But I didn’t. Instead, I squeezed back.

“We’ll figure it out,” I said, surprising myself with the softness in my voice. “Together.”

A twig snapped nearby, shattering the moment. I was on my feet in an instant, positioning myself between Samira and the sound. The bushes to our left rustled violently, and then they burst forth.

Six monstrous creatures burst from the undergrowth, their chitinous bodies gleaming in the dappled sunlight. They were like nothing I’d ever seen. Each beast had six legs tipped with wicked claws, and serrated mandibles that clicked menacingly as they advanced.

“Razorclaws!” Samira cried, her voice tight with fear.

I pushed her behind me, drawing my weapon in one fluid motion. The creatures fanned out, surrounding us with practiced efficiency. Predators, then. Smart ones.

“What are they?” I growled, tracking the nearest beast with my blaster.

“Kervantian razorclaws,” Samira answered, her breath hot against my ear. “Apex predators. Hunt in packs.”

Thrilling.

I charged forward just as the lead razorclaw leapt, its mandibles spread wide, dripping with a viscous black fluid that glistened in the shadows. I sidestepped just in time, its jaws snapping shut with a sickening clack. My blaster came up instinctively, and I fired point-blank into its underbelly. The creature let out an ear-splitting shriek, its body writhing in agony as it collapsed in a twitching, convulsing heap.

Before I could even catch my breath, two more razorclaws hurtled toward me from opposite sides, their barbed limbs slicing through the air. I pivoted and slammed my boot into one’s armored thorax, sending it careening backward to crash against a tree trunk with a sharp crack. The other lunged low, and its serrated claws ripped across my arm, leaving a hot, burning trail of blood. Pain flared, but it only fueled my anger. I bared my fangs, my own growl mingling with the shrieks of the beasts. They had picked the wrong prey.

Fueled by adrenaline, I moved with brutal precision, each shot landing with deadly accuracy. My reflexes allowed me to dance between their slashing claws and snapping mandibles, always a split second ahead. One claw missed my throat by inches, but I ducked, sending a round directly through the creature’s skull. It dropped, its body spasming before going still.

Then, a piercing scream from behind stabbed through the chaos, freezing my blood. I whirled around to see Samira, her back pressed to a tree, eyes wide with terror as a razorclaw inched closer, drooling venom from its gaping maw. Rage ignited inside me, fierce and primal. In three powerful strides, I crossed the distance, seized the creature by its hind legs, and with a roar, swung it like a weapon. Its chitinous body smashed into the ground with a sickening crunch, then again, and again, until it lay lifeless, its shattered shell leaking dark fluid across the forest floor.

The remaining razorclaws hesitated, their antennae twitching as they sensed the sudden shift in power. Then, one by one, they skittered back into the underbrush, vanishing into the shadows. I stood there, chest heaving, muscles coiled and ready for more, but the only sounds now were our ragged breathing and the slow return of the jungle’s subdued whispers.

I turned to Samira, every protective instinct still thrumming through me. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, eyes wide. I moved closer, needing to be sure. My hands ghosted over her arms, her sides, checking for injury. The gentleness of my touch was at odds with the violence of moments before, but I couldn’t help myself. I needed to know she was safe.

“I’m okay,” Samira whispered. “Really.”

I looked up, suddenly aware of how close we were. Her face was inches from mine, her breath warm on my skin. My gaze dropped to her lips, parted slightly. The urge to descend on her, to claim her mouth with mine, was almost overwhelming.

For a heartbeat, I thought she might lean in. But then reality came crashing back. I jerked away, my professional mask slamming back into place.

“We should move,” I said gruffly, already gathering our scattered supplies. “In case there are more.”

I felt Samira’s eyes on me, but I couldn’t bring myself to meet her gaze. The rush of combat faded, leaving me uncertain and off-balance. These feelings, this... connection... it was dangerous. A distraction we couldn’t afford.

But as we set off again, Samira close behind me, the memory of her in my arms persisted. The way she’d looked at me. And the terrifying realization of how far I’d go to keep her safe.