Chapter 8 · Solar Hatchling

"Get your hand off that lever, Lyra." Cassian caught her wrist before she could pull it.

The deck bucked hard enough to throw both of them into the bulkhead. Her shoulder struck first. His chest hit her back a second later, trapping her between cold iron and his body while the helm spun loose beneath her fingers.

"Move."

"You move. You're the one trying to vent the cargo bay into the trench."

"The cargo bay is melting."

"I noticed."

A red warning lamp shattered overhead. Hot metal rained across the deck. Lyra hissed and twisted, but Cassian locked her wrist against the wall. His palm was rough, warm through her glove. His breath brushed the side of her face.

She hated that she could feel him so clearly in the dark.

"Let go," she said.

"Tell me what you're hearing."

"I'm hearing my ship die."

"Not your ship. Mine."

"Then stop pretending you can save it."

Cassian leaned closer. His voice dropped beside her ear. "If I let go, will you shut the vent?"

"No."

"Good. At least you're honest when you're trying to kill us."

Another impact shook the ironclad. Somewhere below, a pipe split with a gunshot crack.