She was already gone.
The colony medical facility was small. Utilitarian. She passed two closed doors before she found the right one, her hand hesitating on the handle for just a heartbeat before she pushed it open.
Goraath sat on a treatment bed, shirtless. Thayn stood beside him, running a small device like the one Fenriil had used on her over a wound on his arm. Shit, she hadn’t even known he’d been injured.
Thayn glanced up. His eyes swept over her and his lips quirked at the corner.
“Good. You’re healed.” He turned back to his work, nodding toward the side of the bed Goraath lay on. “Sit down before you fall down.”
She crossed the room and sat on the edge of the treatment bed. Close enough that her thigh pressed against Goraath’s. Picking up his free hand... the one Thayn wasn’t working on... She laced her fingers through his.
His skin was cold. His fingers didn’t close around hers but she held on.
She caught a flicker in his eyes as he slid a sideways glance at her. Confusion, maybe. She wasn’t sure, and the expression was gone before she could analyze it.
Sitting silently, she watched the blue light flicker across his arm. Under the blue beam muscle was repairing itself layer by layer. She looked at him again, but his face stayed blank. Empty. Like he’d already decided how this ended and was just waiting for her to catch up.
Fuck that.
She squeezed his hand tighter.
The image of him in that alley wouldn’t stop flickering behind her eyes. The way he’d moved... nothing like the rancher who fed krulaati and mended fences. He’d been something else entirely. Something that crushed throats and snapped necks and promised torture in a voice cold enough to freeze blood.
She looked at their joined hands. His were massive and scarred, knuckles dark with someone else’s blood. Hers were small and pale against them. The contrast should have terrified her, but it didn’t. She knew he would never hurt her. Ever.
The blue light clicked off. Thayn set the device aside and straightened.
“You’ll live.” His voice was dry. “Try not to get stabbed again before morning.”
Goraath grunted. His jaw stayed tight.
The healer’s gaze moved between them… Took in their joined hands. Juni’s expression… the rigid set of Goraath’s shoulders.
“The transport warriors should have arrived back. Kaalden’s briefing them now.” He moved toward the door, pausing at the threshold. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
The door clicked shut behind him.
Silence.
Goraath still wouldn’t look at her. His jaw was tight, that muscle jumping in his cheek. His hand stayed limp in hers.
“You should go.” His voice was hollow. “The warriors can take you somewhere safe. Away from...” He stopped. Swallowed. “Away from here.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“You saw what I am.”
“I saw you save my life.”
His eyes met hers. The pain there hit her square stole the breath right out of her lungs.
“I killed two males tonight.” Each word was like it was dragged out of him. “With my bare hands. I would have killed the third. I would have—” His voice cracked. “You flinched. When I stepped toward you. You flinched.”
Oh. Oh no.
“Oh Goraath.”
She shifted closer, and leaned in. Taking his face in her hands, she made him look at her. His stubble was rough against her palms.
