"You should sleep," Lyrin murmured.
"I know."
"But you're not going to."
"Not yet."
He accepted that. His arm tightened slightly, affection pulsing through the tether.
"How do you carry it?" I asked. "The weight."
"You learn which parts are yours to keep," he said, "and you let the rest belong to the people who earned it."
I turned to face him.
"And the choices I made?"
"You live with them. You let them become part of you. And when the next choice comes, you use what you've learned to choose again."
It wasn't so much absolution as it was a framework. A way to keep moving by accepting the cost and doing everything you can to lower it the next time.
I kissed him, soft, brief.
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For not trying to fix it."
His smile was gentle. "Some things aren't meant to be fixed."
I settled back against him and closed my eyes. The weight was still there, woven into who I was becoming.
I had done what needed to be done.
I would carry it.
But I wouldn't carry it alone.
Chapter7
Three days had passed since the mission, and everything still felt surreal.
I'd slept in fragments. An hour here. Two there. My mind kept looping back to the cells, the screaming, the white sheets in the medical bay. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Hope's tiny fingers curled against her mother's chest. The moment the shuttle lights had flickered, when I'd clawed at my helmet like a drowning woman.
The training bay was empty at this hour. That's why I came. I wanted to be somewhere the others wouldn’t find me to ask how I was doing.
The bay stretched out before me, reinforced floors, weapons racks, and combat dummies that had seen better days. The lights hummed at half power, casting everything in a dim yellow glow. I walked to the center of the mat and stood there, hands hanging at my sides, breathing.
My shoulders ached from tension I kept trying to release but couldn't. My jaw hurt from clenching it in my sleep. Every muscle in my body was braced for something that had already happened. I rolled my neck and heard it crack. Pressed my palms flat against my thighs to stop them from shaking.
I didn't hear him approach.
"You're holding yourself like you're expecting to get hit."
I turned.
Kaedren stood in the doorway, arms crossed, watching me with those green eyes that saw everything. He was in training clothes instead of his usual tactical gear. Simple. Unarmored. The fabric stretched across all of his shoulders, and I noticed for the first time how different he looked without weapons strapped to every surface.
