Or maybe I’m hearing what I want to hear.
My brain chastises the stupid thumping organ in my chest.
“I don’t,” I snap. “Did you bring me all the way out here just to share a snack and chat about what my kiss tasted like?”
Some of the hardness returns to Kalden’s features. “You haven’t told the others that our solar sensors are deactivated, so I figured you wouldn’t want to talk about this openly. It’s time that we have everyone remove their helmets. We could cover a lot more ground, and the others would stand a better chance during the next attack.”
I let the words hang in the dense forest air for a moment. “And expose them all to the thing we’re taught to hate? I can’t ask them to do that.”
“Why? The sun isn’t our enemy here. You know that as well as I do. All we’d need to do is show them proof that we can harness it while remaining unchanged.”
“Are we, though? Unchanged?” I fidget with the tears in my gloves as I admit, “I don’t feel the same. There’s a constant tingle now in my heart and veins. A warmth. And in my chest, it’s like I can sense this?—”
“Magnetic pull?” Kalden finishes my thought.
“Yes,” I surrender. “How do I know I’m not turning into one ofthem? A Sol? And you too?”
His cheeks attempt to hold back a smile.
“Are you amused by this, Kalden?”
Kalden regains his composure. “No, it’s just that they’re not . . . I’ve channeled significantly more power than this, and yet my humanity remains intact. So, I have no doubts that we’ll be fine, but I won’t ask the others to take their helmets off if you don’t think it’s a good idea. I trust you. I hope you know you can trust me, too.”
The calm steadiness of his voice soothes my fitful pulse. Though I can’t be as sure as he is, and I still have so many questions about how Kalden came to know all of this, Idotrust him. He’s proven himself thoughtful, good-intentioned, and assertive—qualities that have kept us alive longer than I thought possible in this sun-drenched expanse. I want to believe he’s right, that I’m reading too much into the foreign sensations coursing through me, so I offer a single nod.
He drops his head to eye the peaches still in his hand. “Before we rejoin the others, I really was hoping we could use this privacy to have a quick bite, and to give me the chance to apologize.”
“Apologize for what?” I prod, loosening my grip on my folded arms.
“For kissing you,” Kalden says, like it’s the obvious answer.
“Why? Do you regret it?” My words are stilted by the sudden concern that our heated moment of embrace wasn’t all-consuming for him in the same way it was for me.
“No,” he says, and my shoulders relax a little at the affirmation. “But you’ve been quiet all morning.”
“So have you.”
“Only because I thought I’d pushed you into something you weren’t ready for.”
“It was just a kiss, Kalden.”
“Was it, though?”
My gaze finally lifts to his. Luminous flecks of gold flare around his pupils as he stares into mine, even through my helmet, seeing far more than I’d like him to.
“Yes,” I urge.
It’s a half-truth. On the surface, itwasjust a kiss. But beneath that, it was like a meeting of souls. As impossible as it sounds, I could swear I’d felt the core of his essence surging up to greet my own. Even now, I sense the pull of it, of him. Beckoning me forward. Urging me to close the distance until I’m once again wrapped in his intoxicating scent of smoky bergamot.
I press my booted heels into the patchy grass, fighting against the impulse. I can’t allow myself to give in again—not while Kalden’s keeping vital secrets.
“It was a perfectly normal kiss between two consenting adults, so your apology isn’t needed.”
Kalden lifts a brow, but doesn’t counter. “Then what’s bothering you?”
“Back there, when that Sol attacked Yvonne?—”
“You were amazing,” Kalden rushes forward to say. “You did exactly as we practiced.”
