“We’re on a ship,” Zara pointed out, brows arching at the obvious. “The air in here is the same being recycled throughout the ship.”
“Fine. Then I need recycled air somewhere else.” I turned to leave.
I left the galley and headed for the observation deck. The small room had a viewport that looked out at the stars streaming past as we traveled. I pressed my palm against the cool surface, watching darkness stretch as we moved through space.Frontal lobotomy. Not a good look.
This was what I’d wanted, wasn’t it? The stars. Thefreedom to travel. The ability to chart my own course without anyone telling me where I could or couldn’t go.
So why did it feel so fucking empty?
I closed my eyes and saw Rezor’s face. The way he’d looked at me in the plaza as I prepared to leave. Pain and love and acceptance all mixed together. The way his marks had blazed through his shirt, calling to me even as he told me to go.
He’d let me leave, even though it was destroying him. Even though his marks were burning for me. Even though every instinct probably screamed at him to keep me there.
He’d let me go because he loved me.
Ah, I didn’t like that. I didn’t like how that thought settled over me, making me feel like no matter how many layers of clothes I put on, I’d never be warm again. Rezor wasn’t like my father. My father had controlled me because he didn’t trust me to make the right choices. Because he wanted to shape me into what he thought I should be.
Rezor had made a mistake out of some soup of fear and duty and cultural precedence. And then when faced with the same choice again, he’d done the opposite. He’d given me freedom. Given me time. Given me space to decide what I wanted without pressure or prophecy or anything else clouding the decision.
That was love.
Messy, imperfect, terrified love. But love nonetheless.
The door behind me hissed open. I didn’t turn around.
“I thought I’d find you here.” Torven’s deep voice was calm. “Zara said you needed air.”
“She sent you to check on me?”
“No, but she can be a little intense when she and Maya are worried, and they are. I thought I’d check and see if you wanted company that wasn’t them.” I heard him move closer. “May I?”
I nodded, and he came to stand beside me at the viewport. We watched the stars in silence for a moment.
“How are you holding up?” he asked.
“Everyone keeps asking me that.”
“Because you look like you’re about to shatter.” He said it kindly. “I thought this mission was a success. We established full communication with the D’tran. They’re keenly interested in re-terraforming efforts for the planet, which wouldn’t be possible if they hadn’t preserved as much of the plant and animal species as they had, to be honest. They want to build relationships with their Destran cousins. Lord Rykar reports the valley is opening its borders for the first time in thousands of cycles. That’s huge.”
“It is,” I agreed.
“But you, Zara, and Maya all look like someone died.” He turned to face me. “What am I missing?”
I kept my eyes on the stars. “I fell in love with Rezor,” I said finally. “And I don’t know what to do about it.”
“Ah.” Understanding colored his tone. “Yes, I knew that part.”
“Zara—”
“Zara filled me in on the backstory, but your feelings for Rezor were on display for everyone when we arrived to take you home.” He was quiet for a moment. “And his feelings were no mystery, either. We could all see his marks glowingfor you. You feel a pull, don’t you? Kind of like leaving him felt like tearing yourself in half?”
“Yes.” My voice cracked. “It does. I can’t eat. Can’t sleep. Everything feels wrong, and I don’t understand why. I got what I wanted. I’m free. I’m back with my friends. I’m heading home.”
“But it doesn’t feel like home anymore,” Torven said.
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
“You’re in the beginning stages of a mate bond,” he said matter-of-factly. “Of course you have those symptoms. Separation from your mate is physically and emotionally painful. It’s like missing a part of yourself.”
