“Yes. You’ll live.” She had lived, which meant he would live, and so would Haerune—didn’t it?
“I have to,” he said, slurring a bit. “Have to stay with you, always.”
Her heart skipped a beat; she didn’t know what to say to that, so she said nothing, turning her attention elsewhere as her face burned. She took in the fight that was still raging around them.
Yelir and Ven had one of the other soldiers on his knees. He was wearing a helmet, straining against Ven’s grip and slashing wildly at the air with a knife. Yelir reached down with all four hands, grabbing the helmet and cranking it to the side. The male went limp in an instant, and Ven threw him to the ground.
Thalen was nearby, grappling with another soldier near Xeth’s motionless body. He was a work of art, moving with pure feline grace as the two traded blows, but it was clear he was flagging. The other male had state of the art armor to absorb the worst of Thalen’s blows, and Thalen had only his own willpower. He stumbled over Xeth’s sprawled arm and took a knee; the blow that followed cracked his head to the side and sprayed a mist of blood.
“Thalen!” Ven bellowed.
He slammed into the soldier as the male drew his blaster, driving him into the dirt. His scyra struck again and again like a viper, moving almost too fast to track it. Whatever he was doing was blocked by his broad back, but blood flicked in an arc every time his tail drew back.
Thalen got to his feet and tugged his brother away from the dead soldier, panting hard. Ven took his weight, scanning over his brother restlessly.
“I’m fine,” Thalen rasped, pushing an errant strand of long, white hair from his eyes. “Check on Xeth.”
Yelir was already there, kneeling beside him. “He lives.”
Cordelia sagged against Rentir, who wrapped his disgustingly blood-soaked arm around her shoulders and buried his nose in her hair. They were all still alive. Except, where was…
“Hey!” Eunha called, poking her head out from the ship. “Someone come help us get this big fucker out of the cockpit!”
CHAPTER 43
Rentir watchedCordelia as she laughed with the others, clinking together glasses of liquid in some strange tradition he didn’t understand. They gathered around the stolen dropship in the hangar, celebrating their small victory.
The medpod had healed the worst of his injuries, reducing the searing pain of the stab wounds in his chest to an annoying itch beneath his skin. He rubbed his hand over it, resisting the urge to scratch.
He was set apart from the others, sitting atop a run-down hovercraft in the corner in an attempt to keep the peace.
“Rentir.” Thalen held a glass out to him.
Rentir took it and mumbled his thanks. Thalen sipped his drink and shuddered minutely. At Rentir’s look of askance, he shrugged.
“It is wine from the overseer’s cache,” he said, frowning down at the drink. “They coveted it, but to be frank… it’s quite disgusting.” He held up the offending liquid and swirled it; the light made it glow red, highlighting the little bubbles that clung to the side of the glass.
Curious, Rentir sipped his own. His nose scrunched as the bitter flavor hit his tongue, and he suppressed the urge to cough.Thalen laughed as Rentir set the glass aside with an accusing look.
“They drank this for pleasure?”
“So it seems.” Thalen leaned against the hovercraft beside him, following his gaze to Cordelia in the crowd. “She did well. This was our first victory against the Aurillon since the day of the revolt, and we have your woman to thank for it.”
My woman.Was she? Just because she had given him what he needed to keep fighting did not mean all was forgiven. Nervous energy bubbled in his stomach at the thought of their looming talk.
“How do you feel?” Thalen asked.
Rentir set his drink down atop the hood. “Conflicted.”
Thalen huffed. “You and Xeth both.”
The male in question was skulking in the shadows to watch Seren as the other women coaxed smiles from her usually stoic mien. He was not well, that male. Thalen said a single blow had taken him down—strong as the Aurillon’s soldiers were, that should not have been possible for one battle-bred as Xeth was. He had cut a swath through them on the day of the rebellion, unrecognizable for the amount of black blood he’d been drenched in. For the same male to be felled so easily…
“I had a taste of what he must be suffering.” Rentir shuddered at the memory. “If not for Cordelia’s mercy… I cannot imagine how much worse he may fare.”
Thalen’s expression grew troubled, and he drank the whole of his drink in one loud gulp. “I do not know how to manage him.” he studied the glass in his hand. “It pains me to see him suffering. If there were any fairness in this world, his life would coast by without any further pain. He has endured enough with Noa’s loss.” Thalen set his glass down beside Rentir’s. “Sometimes I fear the best of Xeth died with him. He lives only for vengeance. Once it is satisfied, I don’t know what will carryhim forward.” His eyes drifted to Seren as she laughed behind her hand at something Lidan said. “Perhaps she would show him the same mercy as your Cordelia if he could show her something other than contempt.”
Xeth’s claws dug into a nearby pillar deep enough to leave a gouge. His tail lashed as his scyra flicked in and out of its lethal position. He clutched at his chest as he slinked away into the shadows.
