The engine rumbled to life. Goraath’s massive frame filled the driver’s side, his focus locked on backing out of the parking space. Other transports moved around them—Daax helping Aida with packages, Thayn opening Autumn’s door with gentle care. Normal couples doing normal things.
Her throat locked.
The transport lurched forward and they rolled out of the square. Buildings slipped past the window, then open terrain, then there was nothing but purple fields stretching toward mountains. The silence pressed in, broken only by the engine’s hum and the occasional rattle when they hit rough patches.
She’d practiced the words while saying goodbye to the women. Keep them simple. Direct. Not about Christmas—she’d learned that lesson this morning when he’d thrown her mother’s memory in her face.
This was about Midwinter.
His culture.
His world.
Her fingers twisted in the jacket fabric. The words echoed: All are welcome.
Even those whose hosts voted against them being here at all.
“The colony leader mentioned—” Her voice cracked. She cleared her throat, tried again. “The Midwinter Celebration. It’s in three days.”
Goraath’s jaw muscle pulsed. His hands stayed steady on the controls.
“Kaalden said everyone’s invited. The whole colony gathers.” The words tumbled out faster. “It sounds beautiful. Fire and music and?—”
“No.”
Her stomach dropped. “But…”
“I don’t do gatherings.”
“It’s the colony’s biggest celebration.”
“So?”
“So I’d like to learn about it.” She kept her voice level and reasonable. “That’s what you want, right? For me to adapt? To understand your world?”
His knuckles went white on the controls.
“The other females are going with their hosts. You could go with them.”
Like a child tagging along with the adults. Yeah, right.
“I don’t want to impose on their time with their matches.”
“They wouldn’t mind.”
The transport hit a rut. She grabbed the handle overhead, steadying herself. When the ride smoothed out, she turned in her seat to face him. His profile was all hard angles… tight lips and that little muscle pulsing in the corner of his jaw.
“I want to go with you.”
The words hung between them. Too honest. Too vulnerable. But she couldn’t take them back now.
His throat worked, and he slid a sideways glance at her. “Why?”
Her chest squeezed as she opened her mouth, but no words emerged.
“Because I’m trying,” she said finally, the reply smaller than she’d meant it to be. “I’m trying to understand this place. Your traditions. But I can’t do that from your ranch, alone, while everyone else is together.”
The mountain road curved ahead. His eyes narrowed and he navigated it in silence, every line of his body rigid.
