The gold-and-shadow light still burned across Aeris's vision, long after it had left her hands. It clung to her like the ghost of a wildfire, searing her bones, whispering that it wanted more.
Lucien's grip on her didn't loosen. His thumb brushed over her knuckles as if reminding her she was still here, still flesh and blood, not just a vessel for something ancient.
The silence didn't last.
The reactor core shuddered — once, then again — a deep, resonant boom like a heartbeat the size of a planet.
Sparks rained from the overhead conduits. The spiraling catwalks groaned under unseen weight. A hairline fracture of white-blue light split the central tower, widening with every pulse of energy.
"Lucien…" Aeris's voice was barely audible over the rising hum. "It's going to blow."
He didn't waste a second. "Move!"
The two of them sprinted for the bulkhead, their boots hammering the steel floor. The core's heartbeat became a roar, a scream, each surge of power shaking the chamber hard enough to make the rails tremble.
Behind them, the Forgotten were already reforming — shadows knitting themselves together, armor gleaming wetly in the flickering light.
One of them spoke, its voice riding the reactor's static.
"You can't run from what you are."
Lucien swore under his breath but didn't slow. His hand never left hers — he was half dragging, half shielding her, his frame always between her and the threat.
They hit the first catwalk. The drop below was dizzying — a plunge into the abyss beneath the ship, broken only by tangles of machinery and the faint red glow of warning lights.
Halfway across, the steel groaned like something dying.
The walkway pitched violently. Aeris stumbled, but Lucien's arm wrapped around her waist instantly, pulling her flush against him. The contact sent a shiver down her spine, even in the chaos.
"You let go, and I swear I'll—"
"I'm not letting go," she breathed, almost laughing despite the terror.
Something slammed into the catwalk ahead — a Forgotten soldier, materializing in a shiver of darkness. Its silver mask turned toward them, and it began walking forward with the unhurried confidence of a predator.
Lucien's hand slipped from hers to his weapon. "Stay behind me."
"Lucien—"
"Not negotiable."
The Forgotten lunged. Lucien met it head-on, his rifle cracking, each shot lighting the corridor in bursts of flame. The creature staggered but didn't fall — until Aeris lifted her hand.
Her power came like a tide this time — not a burst, but a sweeping wave of molten gold that swallowed the soldier whole, peeling the shadow from its armor until nothing remained but smoke.
Lucien turned to her, his breathing heavy, eyes sharp. "That's twice you've saved me."
She almost smiled. "Maybe I like keeping you alive."
"Good," he said, his voice low, "because I'm not going anywhere without you."
The words landed deeper than they should have, making her chest tighten in ways that had nothing to do with fear.
Another boom tore through the chamber, louder than before. The crack in the reactor split wide, spilling arcs of lightning that clawed toward the catwalks.
They ran again. This time, the path shook so violently she thought the whole thing would tear away from the wall.
By the time they reached the bulkhead door, the air was thick with heat and the taste of metal. Lucien slapped the control panel, but it didn't open.
"Override's dead," he growled.
Aeris stepped forward, her hands pressing against the cold steel. She didn't think — she just wanted. Wanted out. Wanted him safe.
The crown inside her mind flared, and gold light threaded along the seams of the door. With a groan, the bulkhead slid open.
Lucien looked at her with a mixture of awe and something darker — something protective, maybe even possessive. "Remind me to never get on your bad side."
They slipped through just as the reactor chamber erupted behind them, the explosion shoving them to the floor. Lucien rolled, covering her with his body until the shaking eased.
When he finally looked down at her, they were so close she could see the flecks of silver in his irises.
"You're full of surprises, Little Queen," he murmured.
Her heart pounded, but she didn't look away. "So are you."
The alarms still screamed. The ship was dying around them. But in that stolen second, pressed together on the cold floor, the chaos didn't matter.
Because they weren't running from the fight anymore.
They were running toward it.