32: Unstable Readings

The med bay was quiet, the sterile air cool and clinical, a stark contrast to the blood and chaos they had just left behind.

Leah didn't want to be here.

Ross was the one who got shot. Ross was the one who needed treatment.

But Voss?

Voss didn't care what she wanted.

"You're getting checked." His voice had been flat, absolute, leaving no room for argument.

And now?

Now she was sitting on a med bench, arms crossed, watching as the doctor scanned her bloodwork, his brows furrowing deeper with every passing second.

Ross, patched up but still looking half-annoyed, leaned against the opposite wall, his blue eyes tracking every shift in the doctor's expression.

Finally, the med officer—Dr. Elias Graves, a man whose patience was as thin as his greying hair—exhaled sharply.

"You didn't come in for nothing, did you?" he muttered, tapping the holoscreen.

Leah's brow arched.

"I feel fine."

Elias gave her a long, unimpressed look.

"Your bloodwork says otherwise."

Voss, standing at her side with his usual unshakable stillness, finally spoke, his silver eyes sharp.

"What's wrong?"

Elias sighed, gesturing toward the screen.

"Her hormone levels are unstable. And I don't mean slightly—" his eyes flicked back to Leah, serious now, "—I mean dangerously inconsistent."

Leah's stomach coiled, but her face remained calm, unreadable.

"That's not uncommon in high-stress situations."

Elias snorted, unimpressed.

"Stress doesn't spike these kinds of numbers. This is a full biochemical imbalance—your system is overproducing some hormones and completely underproducing others."

Ross, arms crossed, tilted his head slightly.

"Meaning?"

Elias's gaze didn't shift from Leah's.

"Meaning if it keeps dropping? We'll be talking about full-system failure."

Voss's jaw tightened.

"Fix it."

Leah's teeth clenched.

"I don't need fixing—"

Elias cut her off, tone dry, almost amused.

"Oh, sure. We can just ignore it, let you collapse somewhere inconvenient, and see what happens."

Voss's silver eyes flickered dangerously.

"Options. Now."

Elias tapped a few commands, pulling up a list of stabilization treatments.

"If it drops further, I'll have to put her on a hormone cocktail—heavy stabilizers, gene-therapy support. But that's a temporary fix." His gaze hardened. "She needs a real solution."

Leah's hands curled into fists, but she didn't argue.

Because she knew.

She knew exactly what that solution was.

And so did Voss.

His silver eyes burned into her, his voice low, unreadable.

"Not happening here."

Elias exhaled, shaking his head.

"Then I suggest you get her somewhere it can happen, because she's running out of time."

The room fell into heavy silence.

Leah finally stood, steady and controlled, her voice cool, unaffected.

"We're done here."

Voss didn't stop her.

Didn't argue.

But as she walked past him—

She felt it.

The weight of his gaze locked onto her as walked out of the med bay, her stride steady, unshaken, but inside—

Inside, her chest was tight.

Dr.Elias's words echoed in her skull.

"She's running out of time."

She didn't need a damn doctor to tell her that.

She felt it.

The way her limbs ached longer than they should.

The way her breathing took half a second too long to even out.

The way her body was struggling to keep up.

Not yet.

Not before the auction. Not before Ark 0.

Not before she got off this damn planet.

The hallway was quiet, but she knew Voss was behind her.

Watching. Calculating.

She could feel the weight of his presence, his silver eyes locked onto her back, his circuits still running hot.

Ross broke the silence first, his voice calm but edged.

"So. You gonna tell us why your bloodwork looks like a damn red flag?"

Leah didn't slow down.

"Not relevant."

Ross let out a slow breath, his voice dry.

"Right. Not relevant. You crashing in the middle of launch isn't relevant."

Leah ignored him.

Voss didn't.

"You knew." His voice was low, even, but sharp as a blade.

Leah stopped.

She turned, her gaze locking onto his.

"What do you want me to say, Voss? That I feel great? That I'm fine?"

Voss's jaw tightened, his silver eyes burning.

"I want the truth."

Leah's lips pressed into a thin line.

"The truth is, we don't have time for this conversation."

Ava's voice crackled through the comms, cutting through the tension like a blade.

"Uh, hate to interrupt, but we've got an auction update—"

Leah exhaled sharply, turning away from Voss.

"Go."

Ava's tone flicked to something sharper, urgent.

"Ravenna just placed a blocking bid—she's trying to stall out smaller competitors before the second phase even starts."

Leah's mind snapped back into focus.

"She's forcing the market to drain itself before we even get in."

"Bingo," Ava confirmed.

Ross let out a low whistle, shaking his head.

"She's playing dirty early."

Voss was silent for a moment, then—

"She's stalling for time." His silver eyes darkened, circuits flaring hotter beneath his skin. "She's planning something bigger."

Leah's pulse ticked up.

"Then we move faster."

Ava's grin was almost audible.

"Now that's what I like to hear."

Leah set her shoulders, pushing aside everything else.

She wasn't falling apart yet.

They had a ship to win.

Leah had barely taken two steps before Voss's hand closed around her wrist.

Not rough. Not demanding.

Just final.

She stilled, pulse hammering, heat coiling under her skin.

"We're not done."

Leah's jaw tightened, but she didn't turn.

"Voss—"

"Now." His voice was low, sharp, edged with steel.

Ross let out a slow breath, shifting slightly like he was debating leaving—

Then just muttered, "I'll be outside."

A second later, the door clicked shut, and they were alone.

Leah finally yanked her wrist free, spinning to face him.

Voss didn't move.

Didn't blink.

His silver eyes locked onto hers, cold and unrelenting.

"How bad is it?"

Leah's teeth clenched.

"I already told you—"

"No." His voice was quiet, but it carried weight. "No more bullshit, Leah. How. Bad."

The air between them stretched tight, thick with something dangerous.

Leah's throat worked, her hands curling into fists at her sides.

"I can hold until we're off-world."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one that matters."

Voss's silver gaze flickered, scanning her, reading everything she wasn't saying.

"It's getting worse."

Not a question.

Leah's chest burned, frustration clawing at her ribs.

"It doesn't matter."

Voss's jaw flexed, circuits flaring hotter beneath his skin.

"It does to me."

Leah exhaled sharply, stepping back, shaking her head.

"Why? Why does it matter, Voss? Because I'm part of your strategy? Because you need me functional until we win?"

Voss's eyes darkened, something dangerous flickering behind them.

Then—his voice dropped.

"Because you're mine."

Leah's breath caught, heat spiking sharp and fast in her chest.

"I—"

"And I don't lose what's mine." His words were low, edged, absolute.

Leah's heart slammed against her ribs, her pulse thudding in her ears.

But her voice stayed cold.

"I'm not registered."

Voss's gaze didn't waver.

"Doesn't change a thing."

The bond between them hummed, taut and unyielding, burning at the edges.

Voss stepped closer, voice lower, rougher.

"Tell me what you need, Leah."

Leah's throat tightened, the words sticking.

Because she knew.

She knew what she needed.

What she had been fighting against for years.

But if she said it—

If she admitted it—

There would be no going back.

Voss waited.

Still. Silent. Unrelenting.

And Leah—

Leah did what she always did.

She turned away.