Justin's heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat echoing the chaos that had ripped their ship apart. He clung to Paul, the Alpha commander, their bodies pressed together in the suffocating embrace of zero gravity. The vast, inky blackness of space pressed in on them, a silent, indifferent witness to their predicament.
Paul's scent, usually a comforting musk of strength and control, now reeked of danger, a musk laced with something darker, something possessive. His eyes, usually warm and reassuring, were now cold and calculating, reflecting the harsh glare of the distant stars.
"We're alone, Justin," Paul murmured, his voice a low growl that vibrated through Justin's very core. "And I'm the only one who can get us out of this."