Three

Heat

Sagan was laying out on a secluded beach on an unknown planet and taking in some rays. Yeah, she was naked. Tan lines weren’t her thing. Besides, the only two people here were her and—

Korac emerged from the surf with the sun setting at his back. Purple water sluiced down his chest, abs, hips—

“God damn,” Sagan muttered to herself.

The sexy smirk spreading on Korac’s lips told Sagan she was doing the thing again. Drooling. Knowingly, he smoothed his soaking wet hair back from his face and turned to give her his side profile against the sunset.

Was Korac walking in slow motion, or was Sagan imagining it? Why did this beach smell like watermelon and frost-tipped pine?

Realizing her mouth was open, Sagan snapped it shut, but not before he said, “I love the way you look at me.” He raked his eyes over her bare skin, blond hair to cute toes, which she wiggled for effect.

When Korac laughed, it was like a gift to Sagan, especially considering his history. He rewarded her with a peck on her forehead, dripping water on her tan.

Sagan promised, “I’m getting in that water with you as soon as I’m done cooking.”

Korac took a drink from a water bottle, perhaps intentionally letting it stream from his lips down his chin, throat, chest…

Drooling.

With all the love in her, Sagan swatted him. “Quit it. I know this is our honeymoon, but we can’t only have sex and ogle each other the entire time.”

“Why not?”

Sagan’s laugh was only half-incredulous because it all sounded so appealing.

Korac sobered abruptly and swallowed hard enough for Sagan to see it before he asked, “Actually, amos, could you take me somewhere?”

A little concerned, she propped herself up. “Of course. Where?”

“Well…” Korac dried himself off and squeezed the water from his hair, taking his time to consider his next words. Eventually, he said, “I want to go to the nacre chamber as a pilgrimage of sorts. Ask for Elden’s blessing in person.”

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Sagan wasn’t sure why that was so hard for him to ask, but she was happy to say, “Yeah, let me get dressed. I don’t think the Coalition needs to see us naked.”

“That’s a damned shame.”

Ten minutes later, they were dressed in beachwear, and Sagan opened a conduit to the nacre chamber. Together, they stepped into the amber-colored dome. The sight of it against the exploding star always took her breath away.

Curiously, Sagan noticed the resurrection caskets Celindria had once used were still on the highest dais. Putting the notion aside, she offered, “I’ll let you have some privacy and stay down here on the bottom tier.”

Korac had tied his hair back in a long ponytail, which moved with him as he nodded to Sagan. Without a word, he climbed the broad steps to Elden’s pedestal, and she watched his hair sway. His shoulders seemed tighter than usual, indicating this was hard for him.

Privacy, as promised, Sagan examined the lower nacres. They were different colors, and the first one she sought was purple like her eyes. Strange—

“Thank you for bringing me,” Korac said, as he headed back down. He was a master at schooling his face into a mask of composure, but his eyes were drawn tight. A stress he wasn’t willing to share. Yet.

Sagan beamed at him. “Are you ready to go back to the beach?”

Korac smirked, saying, “Night swimming with you? What’re we waiting for?”

They made love in the ocean—several times—until Sagan suggested a snack break. Under a blanket of stars unmarred by light pollution, they fed each other in a cutesy display sure to make Pehton sick. Speaking of, “How are Bones and Pehton doing on their mission?”

Korac, lying on his side with his head propped in his hand, stared out at the two moons reflected on the water’s surface. He said, “They’re investigating a case on Pil. Since Matt and Lucy took Bethany there, I wanted to make sure there was backup available to them. Not to mention, they only look into human trafficking, and we can’t have that shit in Iona Pax.”

Xelan certainly set the bar high with the vice industry. It wasn’t completely outlawed, but heavily regulated. At least this world was safer for Echo. Wingmaster wanted the brightest future for their children.

Xelan.

“You’re frowning, babe.” The endearment always sounded so silly coming from Korac, but damn it sure cheered Sagan up.

She asked, “Do you think Xelan and Tameka will be okay? I mean… You can’t hold everything together all the time, right?”

Korac rolled over and rifled through their things, but still answered, “They’ll be fine. Not only are they more resilient than they’ll ever give each other credit for, but they also called in professional help. I don’t necessarily want to speak to a shrink, but I will do it to be a better man for you.”

Warmth filled Sagan’s chest until a tear fell from her lashes. “Thank you.” She’d already had her own sessions to cope with the Razor trauma. More than anything, Sagan wanted to regain some of the girl Korac had met in the beginning.

“Aha. Our time in the stronghold wasn’t completely wasted.” Korac found whatever he was looking for and rolled back over with—

“Is that a riding crop?” Sagan’s eyes widened as Korac switched it on. Electricity buzzed from it, sending a thrill through her. “Did you steal this from Xelan’s secret bunker in the study?”

The grin on Korac’s face was sexy, anticipatory, and a little wild. “Oh, I certainly did.”

Sagan laughed, incredulous, but she couldn’t keep the goofy smile off her face as she asked, “What’re your terms?”

“All of it to me.”

Somehow, Sagan knew Korac would say that.