SpaceWolf Reclaim by Ekho Wildess

Author:Ekho Wildess [Wildess, Ekho]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-04-07T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

FORTY-ONE

WREN

Quamire. It is the only satellite around Galathena whose orbital distance is closest to our trajectory.

It’s unbreathable, pitted with bursting acid geysers, and suffused with lightning bolts. Everything is thick with smoky gray steam. Yeah, this planet is nothing more than a giant nightclub gone wrong. Honestly, it’s impossible to tell what’s going on.

Then again, the only spacial object closest to us is this one.

Quamire in approach, breaking into the atmosphere in sixty seconds.

Consider reducing speed.

Warning.

Jade’s metrics are going crazy, and I understand.

This is no piece of cake. This space zone, may I remind you, is called Mara della Morte. I heard it means Sea of Death, derived from a dead language. Spanish, I think.

It’s overly unstable and gravity-crushing. According to Pallamir astronomers, there’s a black hole not very far, which probably explains how bizzaro this whole solar system is. The case of Aphos, the second moon after Quamire, rotating jitterily or Galathena’s solar flares exploding every two days on average.

Overall, explaining why 078—I mean Galathena—resembles a gigantic oven.

Kilian’s gaze falls on me. I know this because it’s crushing my composure to pieces.

I can’t meet his eyes.

I just can’t.

I’m in the middle of landing a jet with close to zero iron crystals . . . plus, how he drooled over some other girl like I wasn’t even there!

“Ina, Ina . . .” he squeaked. I’m gonna shove him some Ina down his throat. I’m just waiting to land this jet, and then he’s gonna hear about Ina all he wants!

It will be endless.

Prick . . .

“If that’s what it takes to have a zero-gravity fuck, he can call me anything he likes.” Yeah, I know that’s what crossed my filthy mind while he was rounding up my clit.

But now that it’s been tamed . . .

“Jade, empty the oxygen tanks,” I protocol, igniting all engines and sterilizing my emotions as much as possible. My mind needs to be clear for this big dark mass in approach. Quamire . . .

K9, K1, N8, N9 . . . I’m dripping like a melting icicle. I can see my reflection in my visor. It’s glow time for me, but the sweaty kind . . . it’s nasty.

“Narrowing wings at 30°, sea-level indicator?” says Kilian, accidentally plying his digits over mine as they learn how to operate the instrument panel.

Kilian boy sure is a natural. He’s got that evident knack only the gifted possess, starting with that cock of his. And don’t get me started on his fingers . . .

That’s enough drooling, Wren!

The man’s hand glides over mine, and of course, I have to freeze like a dumb woman. All of this feels very gender-specific and cringy . . . I know. Ergh . . .

“Spades, are you like these sensory on-and-off objects? Because I can touch you again if this means turning you back on,” Kilian whispers, his voice sexier than ever, traveling through my helmet.

After that, I smile. A transmission born from Kilian’s lips is worth crashing on Quamire, isn’t it? Not that both things are related.

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