The cockpit of the damaged ACM-47 should have felt safer once the fighting stopped.
It didn't.
Outside, the pirate cruiser was gone. The sky had fallen quiet again, broken only by distant sirens and the low hum of emergency response units moving through the ruined port district. Somewhere beyond layers of collapsed structure, recovery teams were already sweeping the area.
They were close.
They should have found them.
But the ACM-47 had not simply crashed.
It had vanished.
The final impact had driven the frame deep into a collapsed maintenance trench, where reinforced plating and debris had folded inward, sealing it into a narrow pocket of wreckage. The transponder had died instantly. The emergency relay had burned out minutes later. Thermal scans would read this entire section as residual heat from the battle.
To the outside world—
they weren't here.
Inside, the cockpit had become something else entirely.
Dim emergency lighting.
Warped metal walls.
Heat pressing inward from every surface.
And the air—
thick with something alive.
Ryven Voss sat still in the pilot seat, hands resting on dead controls, forcing his breathing into something steady while everything else in the cockpit tried to pull it apart.
Behind him—
Kael had gone quiet.
That alone was wrong.
"…are you hurt?"
Kael opened one eye slowly.
"I've had worse dates."
Ryven didn't react.
"You took a direct blast."
"The mech took the blast."
"You were inside the mech."
"I jumped out."
"That does not mean you are not injured."
"I'm alive."
That wasn't the problem.
Ryven knew it the moment the scent reached him.
At first it was faint.
Then the cockpit sealed tighter.
The temperature climbed.
The air stopped moving.
And suddenly—
it was everywhere.
Warm.
Sharp.
Alive.
Ryven went completely still.
No.
His instincts reacted before his thoughts could form.
No.
He turned slowly.
Kael was flushed now, breathing uneven, control slipping in ways that had nothing to do with injury alone. His hand had drifted to his neck, fingers pressing into skin like he was trying to hold himself together.
"Kael."
"…yeah."
"You're Omega."
Silence.
Then—
"…yeah."
No denial.
No excuse.
Just truth.
The heat was already moving.
Fast.
Too fast.
Kael shifted again, restless now, breath catching, the rising temperature inside the cockpit accelerating everything his body was already struggling to suppress.
Ryven forced himself still.
Control.
Discipline.
Focus.
All of it—
thin now.
"You lied to the academy."
"They don't let Omegas pilot."
"You falsified your application."
"Technically."
"That's expulsion."
"…yeah."
Then—
"I didn't come this far just to be told I couldn't fly."
That hit harder than anything else.
Ryven didn't respond immediately.
Because he understood it.
Too well.
The scent deepened.
Kael's breathing broke.
"…Ry."
That did it.
No one called him that.
No one.
Not like that.
Not without challenge or mockery or intent.
This—
was something else.
Ryven turned fully toward him.
"If we do this," he said, voice steady only because he forced it to be, "it's permanent."
Kael looked at him through heat-haze.
Ryven held his gaze.
"This isn't temporary. This isn't helping you through it and walking away."
A breath.
"If I do this—we bond."
The word settled.
"Forever."
Kael didn't answer immediately.
That mattered.
Ryven needed him to understand.
Needed him clear enough—
to choose.
"You know what that means?" Ryven asked.
"…yeah."
"No regret."
"…very."
A pause.
"There won't be anyone else."
That should have been enough.
But Ryven didn't move.
Because something else had already started forming in his mind.
Something older.
Something he had ignored for too long.
The scar.
His gaze dropped.
Kael's uniform had shifted, collar loosened, exposing more of his shoulder under the dim red light.
And there—
it was.
Clearer now.
The starburst mark.
High on the shoulder.
Exactly where—
Ryven's breath caught.
A warehouse.
Gunfire.
A boy bleeding and standing anyway.
A memory that had never left him.
His voice dropped.
"When you applied to Helius…"
Kael barely focused.
"You said you used an alias."
A pause.
Ryven's grip tightened slightly.
"Who are you?"
Kael blinked slowly.
Too tired to guard it.
Too far gone to lie.
"My name is…"
A breath.
"Caleb."
Everything stopped.
Kael's head tipped slightly, voice softer now, unguarded.
"Caleb Benton."
The words hit like impact.
Ryven's world narrowed to that single point.
It was him.
The boy.
The one he never forgot.
The one who stood between danger and everything else.
The one who disappeared.
And had been right in front of him—
the entire time.
"…it was you," Ryven said quietly.
Kael didn't respond.
Didn't need to.
Ryven looked at him differently now.
Not as rival.
Not as problem.
Not even just as Omega.
But as something that had always been connected to him—
long before either of them understood why.
Only then—
did he move.
Ryven removed his blockers.
The shift in the air was immediate.
Pine.
Rain.
Dark undertones beneath it.
Kael inhaled.
And broke.
His body reacted instantly—tension, breath catching, something deep inside him recognizing something it had been searching for without knowing.
"Oh—"
He leaned forward without thinking.
"It's you."
The words came out wrecked.
Certain.
"It was always you."
Ryven hesitated once more.
Because now—
this mattered even more.
The mark.
The bond.
The visibility.
He didn't want to take something from Kael that he had spent years protecting.
But Kael—
even now—
solved it himself.
He pushed his uniform aside fully, exposing the scar.
Then pointed.
"Here."
The starburst mark spread perfectly across the place where the bite would land.
As if fate had already chosen it.
Ryven looked at him.
"Are you sure?"
"…very."
That was it.
The bond took.
Both of them gasped.
Not pain.
Something deeper.
A connection snapping into place—
then expanding.
Everything sharpened.
Breath.
Pulse.
Presence.
Each other.
"I can feel it," Kael whispered weakly. "Ry… I can feel the bond."
Ryven didn't look away.
"I know."
Then—
Kael collapsed.
Not dramatic.
Just—
done.
Exhaustion claimed him instantly.
Heat resolved.
His body finally stopped fighting.
He folded into Ryven.
Clung.
Didn't let go.
"…not moving," he mumbled faintly.
Ryven looked down at him.
"You look like a koala."
"I'm not…"
"You are."
A pause.
"I like this tree…"
Ryven almost laughed.
Outside—
search teams passed.
Close.
Then gone.
Signals swept.
Nothing returned.
To them—
the cockpit was empty.
Inside—
Ryven made a choice.
He didn't call out.
Didn't force movement.
Didn't break the moment.
Because Kael—
Caleb—
was finally at rest.
And for the first time—
there was no immediate threat.
Hours passed.
The heat faded.
The cockpit cooled.
The emergency lights dimmed.
Kael didn't move.
Still holding on.
Ryven stayed exactly where he was.
Because he chose to.
Eventually—
even he gave in.
His head tilted back.
His grip loosened just enough—
never enough to let go.
Outside—
the search continued.
Unsuccessful.
Through the night.
Inside—
they slept.
Unaware—
that the world was already looking for them.
And failing.