She pulled up the manor's surveillance feed once more. Cotton Candy was no longer curled on the living room couch. When Emma checked the other cameras, she saw that he had slipped into one of the guest rooms on the first floor. There were no cameras inside that room, so she had no way of knowing what he was doing there. The feed showed that he stayed inside for more than half an hour before coming out again. The wounds on his body looked unchanged. It didn't seem as if he had gone in to heal himself in secret. By the time she closed her lightcore, the warship had reached the edge of the galaxy. Marcus had already found an ideal position and set the vessel to hover in mid-air. She had barely risen to her feet when he came up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist. "Ms. Tibarn, may I have another kiss?"His body burned even hotter than it had the night before. Emma didn't kiss him. Instead, she turned in his embrace, her eyes calm but intent. "Marcus Crowe, tell me something—why don't you want to form a bond with me?" He sank back into the chair behind him, pushed there by the light pressure of her hands. Meeting her unwavering gaze, he bit his lip hard. "I… If I tell you, will you promise not to be angry, Ms. Tibarn?" She thought for a moment, then nodded. "All right. I won't be angry. Speak." He wrapped an arm around her waist and murmured, almost to himself. "I… I suddenly don't want to die anymore. I'm just afraid that after we bond, if I won't let you cut through my beast mark, you'll think I lied to you… and you'll be angry with me." "You don't want to die anymore?" Emma stared at him in disbelief. "Yeah." He nodded, the faintest tremor of uncertainty in his voice. Seeing her astonishment, his pulse quickened.She's astounded. Is she upset? "When did you stop wanting to die?" Her tone carried no trace of anger, only genuine curiosity. She still remembered all too well how lifeless he had seemed when they first met, always courting death at every turn. He hesitated. "I'm not sure… Maybe after you calmed my mind again and again." Or perhaps it had happened little by little, each time they drew close, until, without realizing it, he'd discovered how good it felt simply to live. "Ms. Tibarn, I… I wasn't lying. At the start, I truly wanted to die." "I know." Emma braced her hands on the arms of his chair, caging him in. Her eyes held his, steady and sure. "I don't blame you. On the contrary, I think it's a good thing that you've changed your mind. You should've told me sooner." Marcus looked up at her, elation sparking in his silver-gray eyes. He seized her waist and drew her down into his arms, capturing her lips in a fierce kiss. If he'd known she wouldn't be angry, he should have told her earlier. He had wasted such a perfect chance last night. The thought struck like a spark and reignited the heat he had barely managed to suppress. His kiss grew wild, almost predatory, a conquest in motion. The desire he had caged poured out in waves. Emma was kissed until breath fled her; instinctively, she pressed her palms to his chest, but the muscles beneath were iron-taut and burning. His heartbeat thundered against her hands, a steady drum that filled her ears and made them hum. His breath carried its familiar chill mixed with a searing heat, enclosing her completely. Suddenly, he rose, lifting her effortlessly into his arms, and strode toward the great curved viewport of the captain's room. His steps were measured and powerful, as though he bore the most precious treasure in the universe. And just then, the void outside the ship blossomed with light. Streams of meteors flared into color, streaking silently across the dark—lavender, baby blue, molten gold… they braided together into a magnificent, wordless fireworks display, painting the frozen galaxy in dreamlike hues. Marcus set her gently atop the cold console before the viewport but did not step away. He leaned close, pressing his forehead to hers, his nose brushing hers in an intimate touch as they gazed out at the sudden spectacle. The meteor glow flowed over their intertwined silhouettes. In Marcus' eyes, starlight flickered like tiny flames. "Marcus…" Emma's voice was husky from the kiss, tinged with awe from the magnificent sight. "The meteor shower is beautiful." "It's not as beautiful as you." He gazed at her, his low voice vibrated like a live current. "Ms. Tibarn, let's bond." As the words left him, his lips found hers again. This time, his kiss was tender and lingering, tracing the line of her jaw, descending to the curve of her slender neck. Somehow, the lights inside the ship dimmed, leaving only the shifting glow of the meteors, brightening and fading, painting their small world in pulses of color. Soft, indistinct sounds filled the warship, muffled beneath the faint hum of its engines. Cold glass pressed against Emma's back; in front of her, his body burned like a living flame.