Zelana appeared at my side, her expression grave. “The prophecy—”
Something inside me snapped. I wassickof hearing about that cursed prophecy and finished with letting it dictate my clan’s lives. I turned to face the council. “I will not keep them here against their will. Not anymore. If they choose to leave, we let them go.”
“But—”
“That is final.” I spoke sharply and with a finality, and for once, not one of them argued.
The first craft touched down in the center of the plaza with barely a whisper of displaced air. The technology was beyond anything I’d ever seen—smooth, controlled, utterly foreign. The door opened with a hiss of equalizing pressure.
And there she was.
Zara.
The human female who’d threatened to bring war steppedout first. Her slightly wild yellow hair caught the afternoon sun. Behind her came the tall Destran male. Then others I didn’t recognize. Another human female with dark hair and a gently rounded belly that suggested new life growing. A tall Destran male whose protective stance near the pregnant female marked him as her mate. His bearing told me he was a leader among his people.
But I barely saw them. Because Cleo had emerged from the guest quarters.
She stood frozen at the edge of the plaza, hand pressed to her mouth, eyes wide with shock and hope and desperate longing. She looked thinner than she had eight cycles ago. Shadows under her eyes. But still beautiful. Still the female who’d stolen my heart and shattered it in the same breath.
Zara saw her and everything else ceased to matter. “CLEO!”
The shout was pure joy, pure relief, and exactly the same loud and unrestrained energy that I recalled from our first encounter. Her voice rang with so much emotion it seemed to echo off the mountains. She broke into a sprint, her face transformed with happiness, and tears already streaming.
Cleo’s control shattered. “Zara!”
She ran too, but even in her desperation, there was a difference. Zara ran like a storm unleashed. Cleo ran like gravity had finally found her center again.
They collided in the middle of the plaza with enough force that both of them stumbled. Zara caught Cleo, spun her around, laughing and sobbing at the same time.
“You’re alive!” Zara pulled back just enough to grab Cleo’s face, her hands shaking. “You’re alive, you’re alive,you’re actuallyalive. I was afraid that warlord who captured you—” Her words tumbled over each other in a rush. “I’ve been losing my mind, Cleo. Completely losing it. Torven can tell you. I’ve been impossible. I threatened to commandeer ships, I nearly started an interplanetary incident, I—”
“I’m okay.” Cleo’s voice was steadier but no less emotional, her own tears flowing freely. “I’m here. We’re okay.”
“You better be okay because if you died, I was going to kill you.” Zara laughed through her tears. “I love you so much, you impossible, brilliant, stubborn—” She yanked Cleo into another crushing hug.
My chest tightened watching them. The pure, uncomplicated love between friends who’d thought they’d lost each other. The way Cleo melted into that embrace like she’d finally found safe harbor after a storm.
Thiswas what I’d kept her from. This connection. This joy.
The guilt was a physical ache that made me wince.
“Zara, I can’t breathe,” Cleo managed, but she was laughing too, that bright sound I hadn’t heard in so long.
“Good. Suffer. You scared me half to death.” But Zara loosened her grip, pulling back to really look at Cleo. Her expression shifted, going from manic joy to something more intense. “Are you really okay? They didn’t hurt you? Because if they did—”
“I’m fine. Really.” Cleo glanced back toward the guest quarters. “Mierva and Baleck are here too. They’re alive.”
“Thank every star in the galaxy.” Zara wiped at her face, still grinning like a fool. “When we found the others from theother pods but not you three—” She shook her head. “I was so scared, Cleo.”
“Me too,” Cleo admitted quietly. “When I woke up and you weren’t there, when I couldn’t reach anyone—” Her voice broke.
They fell into each other again, holding on like lifelines.
The other human female—it had to be Maya, based on Cleo’s past description—had approached more slowly, one hand resting on her rounded belly. Her smile was gentle, understanding. Waiting for her moment.
Cleo must have sensed her presence because she turned, still in Zara’s arms, and went completely still.
“Maya?” Her voice was barely a whisper. “Oh my stars—Maya!”
