“I’m not the one built for war.”
“You’re built for survival,” he says. “That’s harder.”
Something inside me breaks, sharp and quiet, like a wire snapping.
He kneels in front of Nessa again. “Come here, cub.”
She runs to him, throws her arms around his neck. “I love you,” she whispers fiercely, like it’s a secret she’s scared the tunnels will overhear.
He hugs her back, eyes closed. “I love you too, little warrior.”
Then he reaches into his pack, pulls out a small metal disc—a locator chip, old Vakutan make. He presses it into her palm.
“When you’re scared,” he says, “press this. It won’t call me. But it’ll remind you I’m out here fighting for you.”
She nods, clutching it tight. “Okay.”
“Be good for your mom.”
“I will.”
He straightens, faces me. The tunnel lights flicker, throwing alternating bands of shadow across his face. “You know the route.”
“I know,” I whisper.
He studies me for a long moment. I can feel the words he’s not saying—every apology, every promise, every goodbye.
Finally, he smiles. That crooked, defiant grin that used to make me fall for him even when I swore I wouldn’t.
“They can’t track what they can’t catch,” he says.
My chest squeezes. “You sound too sure of that.”
“I have to.”
Then he leans in, kisses me once—quick, hard, desperate. When he pulls back, his hand lingers against my cheek.
“I’ll see you in the Belt,” he murmurs.
I don’t trust my voice, so I just nod.
We partunder a sky the color of ash.
Vael walks toward the ridge, his silhouette swallowed by the storm haze. His coat flares in the wind like a flag of defiance.Nessa stands beside me, hand in mine, silent tears tracking through the grime on her cheeks.
“Why’s he leaving?” she whispers.
I stare after him until he’s gone. The wind tastes like static, sharp and electric on my tongue.
“Because he loves us,” I say. “That’s why.”
She presses her face into my side. I don’t bother to hide my tears. The storm hides them for me.
We wait until his shadow disappears completely before I turn toward the right-hand tunnel—the one Drel marked as the smuggler’s route. My feet feel like stone. The air grows heavier the deeper we go.
Every echo sounds like his footsteps.
Every heartbeat feels like a countdown.
