Page 43 of Rogue Starfighter

We jumped at dawn. The Wraith passed through the Gate alone and came out at the dark edge of Xandraxian space under minimum power. The transition released us without sound. One moment, the blue curve of Velerion hung behind us. The next, a dying red sun filled the canopy. Priya stared at the planet ahead. Xandrax. Queen Raya’s home world was eighty times the size of Earth, ringed with orbital platforms, defense stations, and more shipyards than our intelligence had predicted. Construction frames glowed in the red light. Warships moved between them in slow, disciplined formations. The Dark Fleet had abandoned Raya. She should have been running out of ships, weapons, and allies. She was not.

“That’s a lot of bad guys,” Priya said.

“Yes.”

“Is that your official military assessment?”

“The official assessment contains more profanity.”

She glanced at me. “On a scale of one to we’re-definitely-going-to-die?”

“We are not going to die.”

“You didn’t give me a number.”

“Because the scale is stupid.”

“So, eight?”

“Priya.”

“Nine. Got it.”

She looked back at the planet. Her hands remained steady on the controls, but our bond mark sent a faint edge of tension through my neck. I wanted to touch her. After the previous night, I wanted to do far more than touch her. Her taste had followed me into sleep, when I managed to sleep at all. Now she sat within reach in a fitted flight suit, and I was expected to behave like an officer. An unreasonable requirement.

“Stop staring,” she said.

“I am monitoring your condition.” That was the truth. She had emerged from her rooms with a coldness in her gaze I'd never seen before. The warm, smart-mouthed female I expected did not make an appearance. This Priya was analytical and calculating. Lacking warmth or emotion.

Exactly what I'd told her I wanted.

Stupid fucking asshole. She was right. I was an asshole. I hated this version of her even as I understood I was the cause.

"I'm fine." Even her voice was off. The two words were clipped short and contained zero humor.

“Your pulse is elevated.”

“We’re sneaking up on an enemy planet.”

“That is not the only reason.” I hoped.

Her cheeks darkened and I cursed myself for breaking every rule I'd repeated to myself on loop last night. She wasn't mine. Not yet. Not really. I couldn't afford to be distracted. I couldn't allow emotion to dictate my choices. I couldn't hesitate if we were attacked or worry about her safety. I couldn't be afraid of losing her or making a mistake. Those were the actions of a fool. A foolish male led around by his cock trying to get himself—and his bondmate—killed.

Bondmate. The word made me shudder as I opened the tactical display. I was a complete fucking idiot. She was already mine. I already cared too much. All I'd managed to do was hurt her and deny us both a night of pleasure. “The Wraith is nearly invisible, not invulnerable. We approach the moon on passive systems. No active scans. No weapons. No unnecessary power use.”

"I read the mission brief." Her hand moved over the pilot's controls with an ease I admired. She truly was every bit as skilled as Tavik had been. Perhaps even more so.

“What did it say about kissing your copilot.”

“No need to worry about that.” She adjusted the ship's drift angle with one of the thrusters and didn't even look at me.

“Disappointing.” What the hell was I doing? The sidelong glance she gave me—combined with the glare—let me know she had not missed my teasing.

“What kind of game are you playing?”

“No game.”

"Last night, you—. Never mind. I don't have time to worry about this right now." She muttered under her breath, and I made it my mission not to hear a single word.