“The guards reported you’d evaded them.” He moved closer, not touching, always careful not to touch. “I wanted to make sure you were safe.”
“I’m not going to run off,” I muttered. “Where would I go?”
He hopped up onto the wall beside me, sitting with his back to the forest, though, facing in the opposite direction from me. He was close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from his marks, but he maintained that careful distance. “You seem distressed.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re a terrible liar.” His voice was gentle, whichsomehow made it worse. “Your face, remember? Very expressive.”
I let out a sound that was half laugh, half sob. “Yeah. Poker face. I remember.”
We sat in silence for a moment, both looking out in our opposite directions. The breeze carried the scent of mist and growing things, of smoke from cooking fires and the faint musk of the forest.
“Leadership is heavy,” Rezor said finally, his voice low. “The weight of making decisions that affect everyone under your protection. Knowing that every choice, every action, could be the difference between survival and catastrophe.”
I glanced at him, surprised by the sudden vulnerability in his tone.
“I never wanted to be lord of this village,” he continued, still staring at the horizon. “I was third in line. Had two older brothers who were better suited to it. Stronger. Wiser. More patient with council politics and seer prophecies.” He paused. “One died in ahyajaattack. The other, he slipped off a mountain path and fell to his death. Suddenly, I was the one everyone looked to. I was the leader of a complex people I love to my bones, but will never fully understand.”
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly, reeling from the depth of his words.
“It’s the burden I carry. The responsibility I accepted.” He finally looked at me, those fuchsia eyes intense in the fading light. “But sometimes, the weight of it is almost unbearable. The constant vigilance. The fear that one wrong decision will undo everything.”
“You’re doing a good job,” I said, and I meant it. “Yourpeople respect you. They trust you. They thrive because of your leadership.”
“Do they? Or are we fooling ourselves?” He shook his head. “The storms are worsening. Our isolation is becoming more absolute. And now, sky people have fallen from above, bringing prophecies of ruin or renewal, and I have no idea which we’re facing.”
I wanted to reassure him. Wanted to say something comforting, something that would ease the burden I could see weighing on him. But the words stuck in my throat, trapped behind all the walls I’d built, all the defenses that kept me safe.
“I understand feeling trapped,” I managed finally. “Feeling like you’re responsible for things you can’t control. Like one wrong move will break everything.”
“Is that why you’re up here alone? Trying to escape the feeling of being controlled?”
“Something like that.” I looked away, back to the forest. “I don’t do well with authority figures. With people having power over me. It’s…complicated.”
“Someone hurt you.” It wasn’t a question.
My throat tightened. “My father. He was a surgeon. Brilliant, successful, absolutely convinced that his way was the only right way. I could never get it right with him. I was always…” I swallowed hard, my hands clenching into fists. “A disappointment. And he made sure I knew exactly how much of a disappointment I was. So, yeah. Someone hurt me. But no one will again.Ever.”
Rezor was quiet for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was controlled, but there was an edge to his deep,gravelly voice that made my pulse quicken. “I would like to meet this male who hurt you. And explain to him why he’s wrong.”
Despite everything, I almost smiled. “He’s many star systems away. And honestly, not worth the effort.”
“You’re worth the effort.” He said it with such certainty, my chest constricted. “You’re brilliant and brave and stronger than you give yourself credit for. Any father who couldn’t see that is a fool.”
I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. The sincerity in his voice was too much. The way he looked at me, like I was something precious instead of problematic, made it impossible to look at him. “Rezor, I—”
He shifted his body, angling toward me. I heard the creak of leather and the scrape of metal. I felt the heat from his body that wassoclose. His hand lifted, hesitated, then gently touched my shoulder. I closed my eyes for a moment. I didn’t need them to know the marks beneath his shirt had blazed to life. My entire body was vibrating with awareness and all I could think about was Mierva saying,When marks glow for someone not yet bonded, it indicates deep compatibility. A potential mate.
And my own head shouting back,Fuck, no.
“I’ve been avoiding you,” he said quietly. “Because my marks react to you in ways I don’t understand. In ways that should be impossible.”
“Mierva told me what the marks mean,” I admitted. “When they glow for someone. Deep compatibility. Destined mates.”
“Yes.” His gaze held mine, fuchsia and intense and full ofthings I couldn’t name.
“I barely know you. And you’re…” I gestured helplessly. “You’re in charge of everything. You control whether I live or die, whether I’m free or confined. How am I supposed to trust that? How am I supposed to…”
