Broken Moon Series Digital Box Set

by F. T. Lukens

  Ducking under the arch, Ren entered.

  “Ren,” Lucas said, spinning in his chair. “We got him back?”

  “We got him back,” Ren replied.

  Lucas grinned then turned. He typed in coordinates. “I don’t want to rush you, but there is chatter over all the comm channels. We’ve got locals and Corps and the docking tower all talking. They’re searching for the culprits, you know, us, and it won’t be long before they head into the jungle.”

  “What’s going on?” Asher stepped through the archway, flanked by Rowan and Ollie.

  Lucas stood and leapt at Asher. He wrapped his arms around Asher’s shoulders and patted him on the back. “Oh, it’s so good to see you. But you smell awful. And you’re drenched.”

  Asher smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Thanks. But what’s happening? How are we getting out of here?”

  Rowan brushed passed him and settled in the captain’s chair. “Ren? Are you ready?”

  Ren blew out a breath. He spread his hand on the navigation console. “Catch me when I fall.”

  “Wait, what—”

  Closing his eyes, Ren gathered his power. It bled from him into the ship, and the ship crawled up into his veins. A push-pull of power like a second heartbeat pulsed through him. Static filled his mouth, and sound played behind his eyes, and white and blue and red sounded in his ears. Sparks popped and crackled over his body, and his hair stood on end. Energy amassed in a whirlwind. He willed the ship to bend to the coordinates. His star throbbed under his skin and into the circuits. His body screamed in protest and his knees locked, but it was a secondary concern to the thrumming of the Star Stream and the creak of its engines and the shudder of its hull.

  Time stalled and stretched and stretched until it snapped in one forceful second.

  Ren blinked. He fell backward but was saved from a meeting with the deck by a strong grip. He craned his neck and stared out at a blanket of stars.

  “Did I do it?”

  Lucas checked the coordinates. “Close enough.”

  “Good. I’m… tired.”

  He leaned back into the embrace, and Asher grunted in his ear. “Stay awake,” he said. “At least until I get you to the common room.”

  Ren didn’t remember much of the short journey to the couch. He roused when he heard low voices and found himself laid out with a pillow under his head and a blanket over his body. His boots and socks were a sodden pile on the floor. He wiggled his pruney toes and squinted at the two figures at the table.

  “Are you okay?” Rowan asked, taking Asher’s hand in hers.

  Asher lifted a steaming cup to his mouth and sipped. “I’m fine.”

  “You look like you’ve been hollowed out. And you’re bruised. What happened?”

  “Nothing important.”

  Rowan lifted an eyebrow. “What was the Corps doing on Bara anyway?”

  Asher tapped his fingers along the rim of the cup. “Making inroads. Looking for things. I wasn’t privy to specifics, but I know it has to do with Vos.”

  “Everything has to do with him. Everything goes back to his feud with the Corps.”

  “It’s larger than that, Rowan. It started long before Vos and it’s spread across all the planets. It’s planets versus drifts now.”

  Rowan looked away. “I know. We were on Phoebus, and Millicent attacked.”

  Asher’s cup shook. “You made it out.”

  “We ran. We had to. Ren wanted to fight, but I wouldn’t let him.”

  “Good. What’s happened here?”

  Rowan sighed. “We’ve picked up another stray. Though this one isn’t staying long. We’re taking her to the nearest drift and dropping her off.”

  “She seems… nice.”

  Rowan snorted. “She’s a handful, but that’s no different than anyone else on this ship.” She smiled softly. “I missed you. I worried for you. I… I won’t let anything happen to you again.”

  Asher’s lips lifted in a smile. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep. Rowan, we’re going to have to face this. We’re going to be a part of this battle. In one way or another. We can’t hide. We can’t flee. I just hope we end up on the right side.”

  She looked away and tugged her braid. She didn’t respond, indecision was clear in her expression and posture. “What’s the right side, Ash?”

  Asher sipped his drink. “The winning side. That’s the side we’ll be on.”

  * * *

  Once Ren regained his strength, he dressed in the dry shirt and trousers left for him, then went straight to Asher’s quarters. Asher had left shortly after his conversation with Rowan, claiming the need for a shower, fresh clothes, and a nap. Ren needed the same, but he needed to speak with Asher more.

  He rapped his knuckles against Asher’s doorframe. The door stood slightly open, but Ren didn’t assume he was welcome or wanted. His skin tingled with residual power, and his hair smelled of smoke from the explosions. Humidity and panic sat heavy in his chest, pressing on his lungs. His skin was tacky. He needed a shower and a nap, but the urge to see Asher, to touch him, to breathe the same air, to feel the heat of his body, overrode everything else. The wet fabric brushing against his ankles and the dirt under his fingernails were minor irritants compared to the sudden rending joy of Asher’s presence on the other side of the bulkhead.

  “Ash,” Ren said, his voice a rasp. He waited, his heart pounding with anticipation, as if he hung over a precipice and peered down, down, down into a crevasse.

  The door creaked open. Ren stepped through and closed it behind him, locking it with a spark of his star.

  Asher stood across from him. His blond hair hung in wet strands, limp on his forehead and around his temples, brushing over the curve of his ears. He needed a haircut. The vibrant liquid green of his eyes stood out from the thin skin and dark circles beneath. His cheekbones cut edges into his skin. His jaw, though set, trembled, and his bruised lip puffed out. The shirt he wore hung from his shoulders, and Ren imagined the blue and purple bruises which undoubtedly mottled Asher’s skin underneath. He’d changed so much in such a short time.

  “Ren,” Asher said.

  “Are you okay?” Asher looked away, and Ren closed his eyes. “I meant, are you injured? Does your shoulder hurt?”

  “It’s fine. It’s not like before.”

  Ren swallowed the lump in his throat. “Good.”

  He opened his eyes and stepped forward. The void between them was expansive if only a few feet, and Ren couldn’t handle the space any longer. Drawn toward him, Ren closed the distance and curled his arms around Asher’s body. He drew Asher’s head to his shoulder and held on.

  Asher’s body pulled taut, resistant for a strained moment, before he shuddered and melted into Ren’s arms. He clutched at Ren, his fists clenched into the fabric of Ren’s shirt, and pulled him in. He smelled of soap and warm skin, and the heat of him burned into Ren’s middle and eased into his bones and sinew, and the tension that had set in his spine since he’d woken by himself on a cold metal slab, sloughed away. Ren had never felt at peace: always looking to the stars when on Erden, always looking for control when consumed by his star, always looking for family when lonely, always looking for calm when panic gripped him in its suffocating embrace. But this, Asher in his arms, and Asher’s breath on his neck, and Asher’s hands molded on his back, was as close as Ren had ever come. This was a kind of tranquility of the soul that he hadn’t known was possible for him. Now that he had it, he would never relinquish it.

  “I’ve got you,” Ren said. He tucked his face against Asher’s neck. “I’ve got you. And I’m not letting you go again.”

  Crushing Ren close, with their bodies cradled against one another, Asher held on.

  “Don’t. Don’t let me go.”

  “Never.” And he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t. And it was a danger
ous thing, an exquisite ache that resided in his soul, a promise and a responsibility he’d never leave unfulfilled. “I killed him,” Ren whispered. “I’d do it again. I’d do anything for you.”

  Asher shivered. “I know. I know, but I don’t want that. I don’t want you to do things you don’t want to, Ren. I want you to be free.”

  “I told you. There is no point to freedom without you.” Ren’s cheeks heated with a fierce blush.

  Asher shook his head against Ren’s shoulder. He mumbled into Ren’s collarbone while Ren petted his head.

  “What was that?”

  “I said, you smell,” he mumbled.

  Ren froze. Giddiness bubbled up from his chest to his throat. His body shivered, and he chuckled. Asher shook with him as he muffled his laughter into Ren’s shirt. They laughed, holding each other as all the pent-up adrenaline and grief washed out of them in gales and chuckles, snorts and watery gasps. Ren pulled back, swiped his fingers along the corners of his eyes, then cupped Asher’s jaw, and ran his thumbs over the stubbled and flushed skin, wiping the streams of tears away.

  Asher caught his fingers. He turned his head and kissed the center of Ren’s palm.

  Ren’s breath stuttered, and Asher pressed his soft smile into Ren’s hand.

  “I should go shower,” Ren’s voice was thick.

  “Stay.” Asher’s response was clipped and quick with an undercurrent of fear. He closed his eyes, relaxed his shoulders, and ducked his head. “Stay with me.”

  “Okay.”

  “After you shower.”

  Ren swallowed. “After I shower.”

  “Yes, shower,” Asher said. He guided Ren to the adjoining bathroom, his fingers curled around the indent of Ren’s waist. “And then come back.”

  Ren raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve been sleeping in Ollie’s room on a medical cot. Or on the common room couch. Or where I just…” he waved his hands, “wherever I pass out.”

  “Is that what you’d like to do tonight?”

  “No,” Ren breathed.

  Asher’s lips ticked up into a smirk. “Then come back.”

  Nervousness of a different kind flooded Ren’s veins, and he welcomed it. He smiled back at Asher, helplessly, before closing the door behind him.

  * * *

  Ren emerged from the en suite bathroom in a cloud of steam. His skin was pink from the warm water and from scrubbing away the stench of their ordeal on the planet. He smelled of soap and shampoo instead of sweat and ash, and that lifted his mood. Any reservations he’d held about returning to Asher’s room to sleep had melted away. Now his nerves were from blooming excitement and thick anticipation rather than fear and panic.

  The little hair he had left dripped, and beads of water rolled down his neck and over his collarbone. He rubbed a towel over his head, then tossed it in the corner.

  Asher sat on the edge of the bed. He looked up from a data pad. He started, his gaze sliding over Ren’s bare torso and landing on the stitched angry wound on Ren’s side. Self-conscious, Ren covered it with his hand. “Sorry,” he rasped. “I need to bandage it. I forgot the supplies. They’re in Ollie’s room.”

  Asher didn’t say anything, merely beckoned Ren closer. He lifted a roll of medical tape and a sterile pad. “Pen brought them by when she didn’t find you in the common room.”

  Ren swallowed. “Oh.”

  “Do you want me to?”

  “I…” Ren’s throat went dry. He swallowed, then nodded his head.

  Ren cautiously padded across the room to the bed. The hem of his threadbare sleep pants brushed the tops of his feet. The bare skin of his chest prickled; the environmental controls were set a little cooler than usual. Rowan and Lucas were recovering from the hours spent planet-side in the heat and kept the ship nearly frigid.

  His muscles jumped as Asher lightly ran his fingertips over the skin near his navel and drifted slowly to the stitches. Ren bit his lip. The air charged.

  “Hold this.”

  Ren held the bandage in place as Asher tore strips of the medical tape, then smoothed them over Ren’s skin. The process only took a few minutes, but, by the end, Ren was alight with anticipation.

  “Are you tired?” Asher asked, as Ren stood and trembled before him.

  “Exhausted despite the small nap.”

  Asher nodded. “Me too.” He swallowed and met Ren’s eyes, seemingly making a decision. “Well, come on then.” He patted the bed.

  Ren’s pulse ticked up. His heart hammering, he sat on the edge. “Do you want near the wall?”

  “Stars, no,” Asher said with a shake of his head. “I just spent several weeks trapped and sleeping in a cell. I don’t like the feeling.”

  “Okay. I like the wall. I can feel the ship. It’s… safe.”

  “Okay.”

  Ren scrambled onto the bed and slid under the sheets. Asher followed and lay beside him. Flat on his back and stiff as a board, Ren stared up at the ceiling. His and Asher’s arms brushed. Gone was the ease of the times they’d slept next to each other in a cell or in a hollow tree or on a ship with people they didn’t trust. A dense potential energy lay between them now, and Ren didn’t know what to do, how to act on the feelings that stirred in his gut. He clenched his fists at his side.

  The bed was not big, and Asher had to be uncomfortable so near the edge. Ren squeezed as close as he could to the wall while Asher fidgeted next to him.

  “This isn’t what I imagined.”

  Ren was suddenly breathless. He cleared his throat. “What did you imagine?”

  Asher chuckled ruefully. “Well for one, it wouldn’t be freezing. And for two, you wouldn’t be injured.”

  “I’m fine.”

  Asher rolled to his side and propped up on his elbow. The collar of his sleep shirt slipped and revealed the wide, ridged scar on his shoulder. He pushed away the sheet, and the goosebumps on Ren’s skin betrayed him. He shivered, and Asher raised an eyebrow, silently questioning. Tentatively, Asher rested his hand across Ren’s stomach so his fingers spread over the covered wound.

  Ren flinched. “I’m sorry.” Tears came unbidden. “I’m sorry.”

  Asher trailed his fingers over Ren’s torso, away from the bandage, then leaned over and bracketed Ren so his body curled over Ren’s shaking form. “Ren—”

  “I’m sorry.” Ren surged upward, wrapped his arms around Asher’s shoulders, twisted his fingers in Asher’s hair, and tugged him close. He squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m… so sorry. I should’ve trusted you. I should’ve listened to you. I should’ve never questioned your loyalty to me or to Rowan or—”

  Asher brushed his thumb over Ren’s mouth, and held it there. The pressure was gentle but grounding. “I could’ve been more transparent with my plans. I thought if I kept everyone in the dark, even you, that it would be better. That I could fool VanMeerten on my own. But I made you doubt me, and I’m sorry for that.” He ran his thumb over the blush of Ren’s cheek and slid his palm over the curve of Ren’s jaw.

  “Don’t apologize.” Ren swallowed, throat bobbing. “Please.”

  “It was all to protect you.”

  “I know. I realized in the tunnel on Crei that everything you did was for my benefit. You gave yourself up for me. You’ve done nothing but protect me since we met in that cell at the citadel.” Ren opened his eyes. “Why?”

  Asher smiled, a wry lift of his lips. “I’d still be in that cell if it wasn’t for your fierce single-minded duster idiocy. You were so certain you could escape. And it was maddening and endearing. And I…” Asher laughed. “I couldn’t help but think that if anyone on that planet could get out of that mess and save the cluster, it would be the cog with the glowing blue eyes.”

  “You never told me that,” Ren said.

  “I’
m not good with words.” Asher dipped his head and rested his forehead against Ren’s. He continued the maddening caress of his fingers along the line of Ren’s jaw. “I’m better with actions.”

  Asher’s body was a wall of heat above him. Ren’s stomach was a tight coil, and his muscles went taut with eagerness. Ren wanted.

  “I’m not good with words either,” he stammered.

  Asher’s laugh was a gust of air over Ren’s lips. “We’ll practice.”

  “I’ve never—”

  Asher kissed him, tender and unafraid. Ren melted into it; his eyes fluttered shut; the tension eased out of him. He relaxed into the mattress, and all the scattered thoughts and the remnants of fear evaporated once he was wrapped in Asher’s arms. He gave in, allowed his actions to speak for him, and trusted Asher to lead the way.

  7

  The air around Ren shimmered. Splotches of color appeared, then solidified and coalesced into a room Ren didn’t recognize. He squinted as the bright lights dimmed and twisted, and shadows deepened, providing contour and depth. There was a low bunk with a thin mattress and four close metal walls. The door in one wall was short but thick with a forcefield around a small window. Ren pressed his fingertips against the field and found it solid and cool to the touch. Nothing stirred under his skin. No hum reverberated in his flesh. Brow furrowed, hands in his pockets, he turned and let out a squawk when he spotted Asher in a corner.

  “Ash?”

  Asher looked around, face pale. He wore his Phoenix Corps uniform and glossy boots, though the insignias weren’t quite correct—the details were off because they were in a dream. Eyebrows raised in a look of confusion, Asher examined his uniform. Ren peered down at himself and saw the outfit he’d last worn on Erden.

  “Where are we?”

  “Liam?” Ren called. “Are you here?”

  A blurry mass of color on the bed slowly came into focus. It morphed from a blob to the shape of a person. The figure developed features and red hair. Liam appeared, dressed in a simple, white outfit, stretched out on the bed’s stiff white sheets. He propped himself up on an elbow. The square pillow dimpled beneath him. Metal clamps hung beneath the bedframe and they swayed as Liam sat up. He squinted at Ren, and then his eyebrows shot up when he saw Asher standing in the corner.