She could hear them talking. She felt so tired, only wanting to sleep some more. Her eyelids felt heavy. She felt something cold on her arm as warm fluid entered her blood.

“Tara. Tara . . . ” A familiar voice reached for her. A voice she had become accustomed to hearing. A voice she had fallen in love with.

She forced her eyes open and saw him, his face shadowed under the hood of a cloak. Rydel? She must be dreaming again . . . They took him away . . . He wasn’t real . . . She closed her eyes as the memory of him flashed through her mind.

“Tara, wake up,” Rydel said.

Jaydel had given her a shot to wake her up. She would have to walk if Rydel wanted to get her out of there unnoticed.

“Rydel? Is that really you?” Tara whispered, incredulous, her eyes snapping open. Rydel helped her sit up. He was wearing the Doctor’s overalls. “I thought I lost you . . . ” Tears streamed from her eyes.

“Yes, Tara. I am here. And we are getting out of here,” he said as he helped her off the bed. She staggered as vertigo took over, clinging to his arm. She took a deep breath and waited a few seconds before her head cleared a bit.

“Here you go,” she heard the doctor say as he handed her the cloak. Tara jumped into Rydel’s arms, trembling.

“It’s okay. He’s with us,” Rydel said gently, holding her close. “Do you think you can walk?” he asked, cupping her chin and gazing deep into her eyes. She nodded. He looked battered, and there was a fierce longing in those blue depths. As if she was the only reason he was alive.

“We must hurry, Rydel. You take her, go straight down the hall, and turn left. You leave through the door to your right. I’ll meet you outside in exactly eight minutes,” the doctor said.

Rydel helped Tara as she donned her cloak. She didn’t even notice that she was barefoot as she walked beside Rydel, clinging to his arm. Luckily, the corridor was empty when they reached the door. It was open, and they made their way outside. It was dark in the narrow street outside. It looked deserted. Tara blinked and glanced at Rydel. He looked around and checked to see that no one was around.

Then, turning, he slid one arm around her waist and the other under her knees, picking her up. He then broke into a sprint as he carried her toward the end of the street. There, around the corner, was a dark shape. It was the vehicle they used as transport, Tara recalled.

The doors to the car hissed open and Rydel got in, settling her on his lap. As the doors closed, Jaydel raced along the road, heading toward the field where Rydel’s ship waited.

***

Rydel checked the controls one last time as he set course for Andromeda 13. They were outside Scyok’s atmosphere and were headed into deep space. Tara watched him as he worked the controls. The ship went into warp drive and headed toward its destination.

He came to her then and she looked up at him. His breath hitched. She was all he had ever wanted, and he couldn’t believe he had almost lost her. He pulled her into his arms, burying his nose in her hair. Her soft voice, her scent . . . He could not live without her.

Tara wrapped her arms around his back, melting into his embrace.

After a while, he pulled back and gazed deep into her eyes.  His face looked pale and dark hollows had formed under his eyes. He tilted his head and locked his lips with hers, claiming her mouth. Fervent and demanding, his mouth moved over hers. She let his tongue inside and he ravaged her, grazing hers with a fierce passion that took her breath away. Dark blood, the color of blue ink, trickled down his nose and over his lips.

She pulled back. “You’re bleeding . . . ” she said softly, her eyes huge as he reached up to wipe the blood off with his fingers. “The doctor, he . . . Um, he said you could never go back home . . . ever,” she said as he gazed at her.

“I can’t . . . Scyok was never my home anyway,” he said quietly, staring at the blood on his hands.

“I wish I could help . . . ”

“You have done enough,” he said firmly. He sat down on the command seat and pulled her down on his lap. He told her everything. He told her that her blood was the cure and that they didn’t need to make an extraction.

“Hyrak never liked me, so he branded me and locked me up at the Grim Fort. It was a death sentence. And since you are my mate, he wanted you dead, too . . . And here I thought I was lucky to have survived the plague,” Rydel said bleakly and started coughing as pain tore at his bones.

“Branded you? I don’t understand,” she said, anxiety lacing her soft voice.

Rydel pulled back his collar and tilted his head. She winced as she saw the dark shape, a burnt scar, deep with black veins snaking outward.

“Why didn’t the doctor heal this?” Tara asked, eyes wide with shock.

“They branded me with an ancient wand . . . Dark magic is at work here. The drugs . . . won’t work.” His breathing was shallow.

“Are you saying there’s no way to cure this?” Tara whispered incredulously. Did that mean he was dying? Why did that hurt so much?

He shook his head. “The poison . . . is spreading . . . I may not have time . . . ” He gazed at her with a longing so intense that it broke her heart. “I . . . I’m sorry, Tara . . . ”

“No . . . No!” Tara sobbed, punching him in the chest. “You are not leaving me like this.” Tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Listen to me, Tara,” he said with a lot of effort. “I promised you I would get your face back . . . So, when we get to the Station . . . we . . . go straight to the sick bay,” he said, gasping. He didn’t look well, and his eyes were bloodshot.

“Rydel, please . . . ” Tara began, sobbing. “There must be another way.”

“And you are free . . . I . . . I . . . I know a beautiful place . . . You . . . you can go there and settle down . . . in your new home. I . . . I’ll take you there myself,” he started coughing again. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him.

“No . . . I’m staying with you,” she said, her face contorted as tears streamed down her cheeks. She placed a hand on his cheek and looked deep into his eyes. “My home is where you are. There is no other place for me. I love you.”

He cupped her neck and pulled her close, crushing his mouth to hers in a fierce kiss, tasting her tears. She moaned, her fingers in his hair, kneading it. Desire like hot molten lava moved deep inside her and set his blood on fire.

He pulled back and she saw his eyes were a dark sea of blue. “Thank you,” he whispered hoarsely, panting.

“Rydel, let’s get you to the healing chamber,” Tara said, getting off his lap.

He nodded. “To the sickbay, then.”

Rydel lay on his back on the bed in the healing chamber. Gyree made the essential scans as Tara instructed the computer to give him painkillers.

He took Tara’s hand in his, lacing his fingers with hers as he gazed deep into her eyes. She could see his body relax as his eyes glazed over. She leaned over and rested her head against his bare chest. He placed his other arm over her shoulder. In the next few seconds, he drifted into unconsciousness. She could hear his heartbeat and found its rhythm soothing – a pleasant melody.

She couldn’t stop the tears. They kept flowing as she lay there listening to his beating heart. She wished his heart would keep beating . . . Please, please, please let him live, she prayed. No, she wouldn’t let him die like this. Not now. There must be some way to undo the curse.

She suddenly sat upright. The Scroll and that stone. They both worked through magic. She was making a wild guess, but she had to try.

Tara got up and ran outside toward the control room.

“Gyree, let me in,” she said as she reached the doors.

The doors hissed open and she entered, her eyes scanning the room. There, by the Commander’s seat, lay Rydel’s satchel. She remembered that Rydel said the Scroll revealed secrets. And even the stone could give her answers.

She quickly bent down on her knees and opened it. She pulled out the ancient parchment and unrolled it. Skimming through it, she found nothing new. She sighed, her hopes dampening a little, and put it back. She carefully picked up the stone and held it in both hands, cradling it.

The blue stone was smooth and felt oddly warm. Tara peered at it closely, eyes narrowed, and thought she saw something move inside. Blinking, she kept staring at it for a while when the vision hit her. It took only a few minutes. Tara’s eyes snapped open as she gasped, and the stone slipped from her hands, dropping to the floor, as it rolled a few feet away. She was trembling, but she had seen it. She had the Svix inside her – the essence of life. She could heal him.

Still shaking from the impact of the vision, she took a deep breath and, picking up the stone, she put it back inside the satchel. Then she looked around and searched for Rydel’s dagger. It lay on the table along with his gun and traveling cloak. She picked it up and took it out from its scabbard. The blade glinted in the light, cold and lethal.

Her heart thudded in her chest as she sheathed it and quickly made her way toward the healing chamber, taking the bag with her.

***

Tara stood beside Rydel and gazed at him, dagger in hand. His skin looked pale and clammy, dark hair matted to his forehead and his breathing was shallow.

With the help of Gyree, she had sterilized the dagger by placing it in a small tray. It only took a few minutes as the particles disinfected it.

Taking a deep breath, she made a gash across her palm, drawing blood. Leaning over Rydel, she cupped his chin, tilting his face up as his mouth fell open. She then held her fist over his mouth and let a few drops of blood fall inside.

Tara waited as her heart drummed against her chest . . . She waited for the blood to flow down his throat. She waited with tears in her eyes as Rydel lay still as death, a shuddering breath the only sign of life.

Please, please, please . . . She prayed and took his hand in hers.

And then, suddenly, he coughed as if choking. His eyes snapped open. He gasped for air, and then his breathing became better. She squeezed his hand and smoothed his hair back from his face. Confusion flitted across his eyes as he saw her there.

“Rydel?” Tara said softly. Her tears just wouldn’t stop. “Rydel . . . Say something,” she said, holding his hand tight as the blood from her gash dripped from in between their hold. “You will be fine . . . The stone showed me the Svix . . . My blood healed you,” she said talking fast. He saw relief and fervent longing in those big warm eyes. Longing for him.

He glanced at both their hands locked together. “It’s beautiful . . . ” He said gazing at her.

“What?” she stopped talking confused.

“The color of your blood,” he said in that low deep voice of his.

“Oh . . . ” she laughed through salty tears. She unlocked her hand from his and gazed it.

“Thank you, my love . . . ” he said gently and pulled her into his arms, as his mouth found hers, claiming her fervently.

A while later, he pulled away. “Gyree? Fix Ms. Dawson’s hand right now,” he ordered.

Yes, Commander . . . 

The Commander was back. The Klai healed fast. She smiled as Rydel pulled her close for another kiss.