I dragged her aboard my ship from that storm-battered hell below, her fists pounding my chest like she could claw her way back to freedom.
But freedom's a lie for her now. She's locked in my quarters, that glowing possession band cinched tight around her wrist, pulsing with my claim. Every glare she shoots me drips sarcasm, every curse a spark that feeds the beast in my blood. I should crush her resistance. Instead, I crave the way she trembles when I pin her against the bulkhead, her body arching into the enemy.

She's fire wrapped in human fragility, denying the pull that's already rewriting her soul. I know her secret-that fierce autonomy she clings to like armor. It's cracking. Night after night, amid the engine's relentless thrum, our sweat-slicked skin collides. Hatred twists into something sharper, hungrier. I take her mouth, her thighs, marking her with ritual scars under the sacred moon's silver glow filtering through the viewport. She fights it, bites back moans, but her nails dig in like she never wants me to stop.

I'm her ruin and her shield, the predator who'll slaughter the rival circling our orbit before he steals her life. That deadline ticks mercilessly-claim her fully or lose everything to his grasp. My world demands I own her without mercy, yet tenderness slips through, a vulnerability I can't afford. She could shatter me worse than any blade.

What if her yielding breaks us both before the enemy does?