Setting Fire to the Stars (a MM Sci-Fi Romance)

Chapter 37: Darker

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Lauren
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Cool air blasted back the scalding heat as Peter hauled me by the waist into the cockpit. My ears rang with a constant buzz of static, a brisk penny tang resting on my tongue as the sudden drop in temperature chilled my overheated skin. Big, angry tears blurred my surroundings, the drops tumbling down my cheeks, tickling the edges of my nose and jaw.

The sounds of labored gasps beat off the dark glossy interior. As if sentient enough to recognize the danger we were in, the tear-shaped ramp closed on its own with a haunting hiss. The vessel groaned beneath our feet, the hatch sealing shut.

As soon as the flames vanished from sight, my knees gave out, breath coming in short, useless pulls that burned all the way down. Peter's solid chest drove into my back as we slid to the cool ebony floor. His warmth melded against my sweat-soaked spine.

Carefully, I pressed a hand to my bruised throat. Adrenaline fizzled under my skin like a bag of pop rocks, the weight of what just happened crushing me.

"You're okay," he assured, pulling me tighter against his chest. "I've got you."

"We left them," I choked out, tears spilling down my cheeks as the image of my father and Josiah seared into my brain. "We just left them behind."

Pressing his lips against my hair, he smoothed back the strands soaked with soot and perspiration. "We'll find them. I swear, Lauren, we will. But right, we need to go."

Even as he spoke promises in my ear, I couldn't hold back my sobs.

Shoes skidded against the cockpit's pristine flooring, a circle of tight bodies closing in.

"Where are Josiah and Gael?" Reese's smoky baritone questioned, full of apprehension.

"They're not still out there, right?" Whitt sputtered, whipping his head toward the sealed hatch

At the same moment Wyatt snarled. "You lost them?"

"There was no way through," Peter said, tightening his hold as if he could feel the panic coiling beneath my skin. "That blockade was red-hot and too heavy to move. We couldn't get to them, we tried—"

"Then we go back," Wyatt stated, turning towards the hatch door.

"We can't," Reva spoke up, barring his path. Flynn tried to reel her in, but she shrugged the man off. "You heard that howl, that. . . thing. There's something out there. It's too dangerous—"

"You are not seriously considering leaving him behind, are you? If it weren't for him, you and Flynn wouldn't even be alive right now," he retorted, angrily pushing past her. "I'm going back for him."

Whitt laid a hand on his twin's shoulder, stepping to his side, brows knitted together. "I get it, Wy, I really do, but unless you're suddenly indestructible and fire-proof, there's nothing you can do."

Shrugging him off, Wyatt spun, sticking a finger in Whitt's face. "You don't know that!"

Their voice thinned as a high-pitched tone rang in my ears. My surroundings blurred, everything moving in slow motion as my gaze fixed on one single point. The fuzzy face of my own reflection stared back at me, the mirror image blinking slowly. A stranger in the dark. In the days of imprisonment, I had lost weight, a ghost of his former self; ashen, hollow, barely recognizable. Smears of dirt and blood blotted my concrete-grey sweatsuit, off-white sneakers ruddy and smudged. Dark circles hollowed under unfocused eyes, my freckles faded into my pale skin.