Her hand moved slowly and deliberately, careful not to disturb him. His breathing had grown deep and steady, and the faintest crease of peace settled into his brow. She watched him in the stillness of early morning light, her thumb grazing a strand of silver near his temple.
Who were you, before the transformation? Who are you under all of this power?
He looked younger like this. Softer. Not the man with gravity stitched into his veins, but someone untouched by it—a god who still had a chance to be human.
Footsteps shuffled somewhere outside near the ramp. A groggy groan followed from the pile of bodies, then the sound of a cushion being moved aside. Someone mumbled something unintelligible.
Veolo sat up first, rubbing her eyes. Her gaze landed on Aurania, then on Soren, then back again.
A grin spread across her face.
Aurania narrowed her eyes. “Don’t,” she whispered.
Raine came to a sitting position next, blinking blearily. She saw them, processed it, and smiled faintly.
“Shut up,” Aurania said again, though a small smirk tugged at her lips.
Even Tamiyo—uncurling herself from Inelius’ arm—peeked up, saw the scene, and raised one brow. One by one, they all rose from slumber to shoot her knowing looks.
Aurania sighed. “Seriously. All of you.”
But she didn’t move.
And she didn’t stop running her fingers through his hair.
The team slowly rose and took their leave from The Ghost of Mandachor, until only Soren and Aurania remained. The ship was still, filled only with the occasional creak of cooling panels and the slow rhythm of breathing. Outside, pale light filtered through the cockpit windows, painting soft gold across the floor from the hallway.
Time felt suspended—like the galaxy itself had paused to let them rest.
Aurania didn’t remember dozing off. One moment she was watching the rise and fall of Soren’s chest, feeling the gentle weight of his head in her lap—and the next, the world was no longer the quiet interior of the ship.
She was dreaming.
But not like before. Not like the fractured memories she sometimes slipped into during sleep, or the chaotic visions that came with shared dreams. This was different.
She was herself. Present. Her awareness shifted like she was drifting upward through warm water, breathless and weightless.
A sense of familiarity pulsed in the air—as if the place had been waiting for her.
And then, Soren was there too.
He stepped into the space beside her, blinking at the dreamscape around them—a vast, still expanse where the ground shimmered like polished glass. It mirrored the heavens so perfectly that it was impossible to tell where sky ended and reflection began. Swirls of deep purple and molten gold twisted through the clouds above, and their mirrored twins danced below, folding the horizon into a luminous loop of color and light. Starlight bled into sunrise, and the air carried no scent, no temperature—just the quiet hum of something sacred.
Soren looked at her. “You feel real,” he said, his voice echoing faintly at the edge of hearing.
Aurania turned to him slowly. “You do too.”
Before either could say more, two figures emerged from somewhere unseen.
The first was unmistakable—her hair tied back into a large braid and a soft smile on her face, Amaryn Lieton walked with the serene grace of someone who had finally been unburdened.
Beside her was a d’moria man wearing an old-style wide-brimmed hat and a long coat that looked identical to Violet’s new skirt. Saint Morgan walked toward them, his presence strong, grounded, and otherworldly.
Aurania’s breath caught in her throat. Soren stood straighter beside her, his expression open, reverent.
Amaryn approached, her hands clasped in front of her. “I’m not here long,” she said, voice steady. “Just wanted to say thank you.”
She turned her eyes to Aurania. “You made space for me. When I had nowhere else to go. And Violet…” Her voice caught for a moment, but she smiled. “Please tell her I saw everything. That I appreciate her more than I could ever say.”
Aurania nodded slowly, tears forming in her eyes. “I will.”
Amaryn eyed both of them thoughtfully for several long moments. “The path ahead for you all is a dangerous one, but rely on each other and you will prevail, I’m sure of it.”
Aurania and Soren looked at each other, stricken by what they were experiencing. Then they faced back to Amaryn, and nodded silently. Then Aurania glanced at Morgan, who nodded to her with warm eyes, but did not speak.
Amaryn tilted her head with a mischievous spark. “Also, if I know Venlin, I think he’s going to commission a statue of me.”
Soren raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
Amaryn smiled wider, almost teasing. “When it’s made, I have a favor to ask. Just one last one, to make sure the details are right.”
Aurania took a deep breath, steeling herself with resolve. The dreamscape suddenly smelled indescribable, a mix of Mol’eyen’s red dirt, sunlight, and stardust. She faced Amaryn with a wide stance, ready to hear what the girl asked of her, and said:
“Anything.”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Aurania awoke stretched out on the floor of the ship.
The faint hum of the ship’s systems thrummed in the background, barely audible above the soft rhythm of Soren’s breathing. They were both on their sides, tangled gently—one of her legs was straight, the other bent with Soren’s head laying on the inside of her thigh. Her head had somehow found its way onto the curve of his abdomen, setting just above his pelvis.
It was… peaceful. Intimate, in the quietest way.
She might’ve stayed there longer—until her eyes flicked open fully and her brain caught up with the fact that she was, quite literally, staring at the morning outline of him through his pants.
Her whole body tensed.
Oh no.
She lifted her head and her gaze darted to his face—still sound asleep, blissfully unaware—her eyes shot back again.
Oh no.
Heat pooled instantly in her core. Her skin prickled. Her mind raced with vivid thoughts she tried to smother before they could take hold.
No. No no no.
This is just biology, she told herself. This is not personal. This is common. Normal. Not an invitation.
And yet…
She inhaled sharply, sat bolt upright, and yanked the blanket up around herself as if it might help suppress the very real and very physical reaction building in her.
Control. You have control.
She took a deep breath, blinked rapidly, and focused her mind away from temptation.
Aurania suddenly became keenly aware she was being watched.
Tamiyo was a few meters away, seated casually with a tablet in her lap and one brow raised like she’d been there the whole time.
Aurania nearly yelped. “How long have you been there?!”
Tamiyo’s antennae wiggled innocently. “Long enough to wonder how much longer you’ll be able to restrain yourself.”
Aurania flushed red, hiding her face in the blanket.
Soren stirred at last, groaning softly and shifting against her thigh. “Mmm… morning already?” He blinked up at Tamiyo, disoriented. “How long have we been out?”
Tamiyo tapped her screen and leaned back. “Well, I woke up yesterday morning and saw you sleeping on her lap. I came back to the ship maybe an hour or two later and Aura was already knocked out. So… I’d say around thirty-six hours.”
Aurania almost yelled. “Thirty-six hours?!”
“Yep,” Tamiyo said, calm as ever. “We were a little worried after a while, but your vitals stayed steady. Nothing dangerous. My medical conclusion was that you were comforting each other into a deep sleep that you both really, really needed. And that the best course of action was to let you rest.”
Soren sat up slowly, blinking at Aurania, his hair a complete mess. Their eyes met—neither speaking, but both seeming to understand what the other was feeling.
They had slept. And not just passed out—they had truly, deeply rested. For the first time since Amaryn.
And they had gotten to say goodbye, despite barely knowing her.
Tamiyo stood and dusted herself off. “Anyway. I’ll leave you two to shower or… you know, emotionally implode. When you’re ready, come by the saloon. Brolgar’s cooking a feast for the whole town.”
She gave a small, reassuring smile—then slipped out of the ship, leaving them alone in the soft morning light.
Soren and Aurania looked from where Tamiyo had exited to each other, the silence stretching.
Finally, Aurania asked, “Was that dream real?”
He slowly nodded.
“You’ve made my life very weird, Little Boy.”
Fun too, but let’s not inflate his ego too much.
They rose slowly from the floor, each stretching out limbs that had gone stiff after such a long rest. Aurania rolled her shoulders, feeling the residual ache in her spine, while Soren scratched at his scalp, messing his already skewed white hair even further.
They both moved instinctively toward the bathroom—and stopped at the exact same moment, facing each other in the narrow hallway just before the door.
“You go ahead,” Aurania said, but Soren lifted a brow.
“I was about to say the same thing. Or…” He hesitated, tilting his head with casual curiosity. “Do you want to shower together?”
Aurania’s breath caught.
Her pupils dilated. Her lips parted. The fire that had been quietly smoldering under her skin since she’d woken up came roaring back to life, and for a second, the only thought in her mind was the taste of water running over his body—heat, skin, steam, gravity.
Why am I salivating so much?!
She swallowed hard, forcing her jaw to close. “No.”
Soren’s face fell slightly.
Aurania’s voice was softer when she added, “Go shower first. I meant what I said last— the other night, I mean. We have to keep our hands off each other.”
He studied her for a long moment, something unreadable moving behind his eyes. “I’m the only dangerous one,” he murmured. “If it would help you focus, you could… go get your fix with someone else.”
“No,” she answered instantly.
It came out sharp. Honest. Unfiltered.
His expression softened, and a faint smile tugged at his lips. He didn’t say anything else—just nodded once, then turned and slipped into the bathroom, the door sliding closed behind him.
Aurania exhaled like she’d been holding her breath through a combat drill.
She braced herself against the wall, trying to ground the heat surging through her veins. The air wasn’t even warm, but her skin burned, and the cold metal of the wall felt like it might melt beneath her. She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again and made her way toward the terminal near the entry.
Something small flashed in the corner of the screen.
A new message.
Aurania tapped the blinking icon on the terminal.
NEW MESSAGE: COMMANDER GARRIN
She opened it and leaned in.
“Hello everyone, I hope Boadicea has been treating you well. I’ve got good news and bad news. The good news is that The Resolute Wind is finally en route back to Mol’eyne.”
A weight she hadn’t realized she was carrying eased from her shoulders.
“The bad news is that the maintenance on The Resolute Wind took longer than anticipated, and we won’t be arriving as scheduled. Instead of returning on Day 30, we’re now expected to make orbit on Day 37. We’ll be staying in-system for about five days to retrieve our deployed teams.”
Aurania blinked at the date, mentally recalibrating. That was two weeks from today. Longer than expected. And she knew her team was already anxious to leave this place as soon as possible.
“Your team will be departing shortly after we arrive. The location of the ruins has been confirmed.”
Her breath caught. Finally, some good news.
She paused the message and stood there a moment, letting the swirl of feelings settle. Relief. Anticipation. A touch of dread.
Behind her, she heard the bathroom door hiss open. She turned to find Soren emerging with a towel wrapped loosely around his hips, steam trailing behind him.
That was quick. How long was I bracing against that wall?
He was drying his hair with another towel, bare-chested, drops of water still clinging to the planes of his body. Her mouth went dry this time, but through sheer willpower she managed not to stare directly at the V-line.
“Hey,” she called. “Come listen to this.”
Soren looked at her for a long moment. “I don’t have any clothes on.”
Aurania gestured at him. “You’re wearing a towel. I think I can control myself. Come on, it’s from Garrin, it’s important.”
Soren perked up at the mention of Garrin and padded over, still towel-clad, standing beside her at the terminal.
Aurania replayed the message from the beginning, continuing once it reached what she had already heard.
“Not all is good tidings,” Garrin’s voice continued. “The Commandant of the Liberty Union’s space fleet will be joining Admiral Marrow for your next assignment. The two of them will be overseeing the investigation of the ruins personally.”
Aurania’s stomach tightened.
“I cannot relay anything additional at this time—the information is too sensitive. We will see you both soon. Be ready.”
The message ended with a soft chime.
Soren and Aurania stood in silence. She turned to him slowly—he was already looking at her. The weight of it settled between them.
If the Commandant was coming… this was no longer just a scientific curiosity that could potentially help Nox.
This was something bigger than just them and their planet.
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