Page 24 of Hunter's Moon
“There,” Tharion said, pointing to a spot on the map. “An elevator shaft. It looks like it goes all the way to the surface.”
I traced the route with my finger, my excitement fading as I realized the implications. “We’ll have to go back through the area where we encountered those bugs.”
Tharion’s jaw tightened, the muscles in his neck standing out. “It’s our best chance,” he said grimly.
I nodded, knowing he was right but dreading the journey ahead. The memory of those glowing insects, their chitinous bodies gleaming in the darkness made me shudder.
Tharion must have sensed my unease. He pulled me close, his arms wrapping around me. I leaned into him, drawing strength from his solid presence.
“We’ll make it,” he murmured into my hair. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
I wanted to believe him. In that moment, safe in his arms, it was easy to imagine that we could overcome any obstacle. But reality was waiting just beyond these walls, cold and unforgiving.
“We should rest,” I said, pulling back reluctantly. “Get our strength up before we head out.”
Tharion scanned the room. “I’ll take first watch. You sleep.”
I wanted to argue, to insist that I could stay awake too, but exhaustion was already tugging at my limbs. I made my way back to the dormitory bed, collapsing onto the musty sheets.
As sleep began to claim me, my mind drifted to Tharion. The fearsome Vinduthi bounty hunter who’d pursued me across the galaxy was now my protector. The irony wasn’t lost on me.
Tharion had proven himself time and time again since we’d been thrown together. He’d fought for me, protected me, risked his life for mine. But could I truly trust him?
The bounty on my head still existed. What would happen when we made it back to civilization? Would Tharion’s loyalty to me outweigh the promise of credits?
THARION
Iwatched Lina sleep, her chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. Her auburn hair splayed across the makeshift pillow, brilliant against the drab gray of the abandoned office floor. My fingers twitched, longing to brush a stray strand from her face, but I stopped myself.`
What was I doing? She was my target, nothing more. I shouldn’t want her. I couldn’t want her. Yet here I was, captivated by her peaceful expression, the soft curve of her lips.
I clenched my fist, willing away the urge to touch her. I was Vinduthi, a predator, a bounty hunter. I didn’t form attachments, especially not to humans. But something about Lina called to me, stirred feelings I thought long dead.
Her eyelids fluttered, and I quickly averted my gaze, pretending to study our surroundings. The old dormitory was a mess of crumbling furniture and scattered datapads, relics of Larakis’ early days.
“Tharion?” Lina’s voice was thick with sleep.
“We should move,” I decided. “The shaft isn’t far.”
She sat up, rubbing her eyes. “Right. Back through the bug-infested tunnels. Sounds delightful.”
I smirked despite myself. “Scared of a few glowing insects?”
“A few? Those things were the size of hover-bikes!” She shuddered. “And there were hundreds of them.”
“We’ll be fine,” I assured her, though I wasn’t entirely convinced myself. “Stay close to me.”
We gathered our meager supplies and went back to the collapsed tunnel entrance. Lina went first, her smaller frame slipping easily between the rocks.
I followed, the jagged stone scraping against my skin. As I emerged on the other side, Lina’s scent hit me – a mix of fear and determination that made my head spin.
“You okay?” she asked, noticing my hesitation.
I nodded, pushing away the distracting thoughts. “Let’s go.”
We crept through the tunnels, the pale light of the glow sticks our only light, our footsteps echoing in the eerie silence. The bioluminescent residue from the bugs cast everything in an otherworldly glow, creating strange shadows that danced along the walls.
“So,” Lina whispered as we navigated a particularly narrow passage, “you never did tell me who hired you to find me.”