Mal's chest shivered with relief. “All right. I have a plan. I'll get out tonight. Wait for me at the back of the fortress at 1 AM. I've stolen some Medean clothes. If I keep my chest covered, do you think I can pass as Medean?”
Evellor blinked. “I hadn't thought of that. Yes! You absolutely can pass as a Medean. And that gives me an idea. I know where I can take you. I won't even have to abandon my leader.”
“What? Won't we have to hide?”
“Not as long as you keep your clothes on in public. I know it will be hard for you, but you'll manage it.” Evellor grinned. “I'll fly you to Thennis tonight and set you up in a house there. Then I'll have to come back until this siege is over. But after it's done, we can be together. Openly.”
“Do Medeans and Aethari, uh, do they . . .?”
“Marry?” Evellor smirked. “Not until my leader, Thaxvarien, bonded with his destra. He's made it possible for us to be together.”
“Holy shit! We can do this!” Mal chuckled. “I'm going to be a Medean.”
“I don't care what race you are, Mal. You're going to be mine.”
Mal's heart nearly burst with those words, leaving him gasping for breath. He'd never felt anything like it. When he figured out what his racing pulse, quick breath, and bright happiness added up to, he could barely believe it. But he could say it for the first time.
“Ev, I love you.”
Evellor gaped at him. “But you said that Nethren don't love.”
“I said that we couldn't love yet. I've changed, Ev. The surface, Lena Drask, and you have changed me.” Mal frowned. “Hold on. Are you saying that you would have run away with me, believing that I'd never love you?”
“Yes,” he whispered. “Don't ask me why. I just knew that you were the one who would make me happy. Only you.”
Mal grinned. “Does that mean you feel the same, warrior?”
Evellor chuckled softly. “Of course it does. I love you, Mal. And I'll see you later.”
“Later, lover.” Mal ended the vid, spun in a circle, and pumped his hand into the air. The emotions running rampant through his body were better than sex. He couldn't stop smiling as he left the bathroom.
But as Mal made his way through the corridors to the kitchens, his smile vanished, pushed down by the fury on the faces of his fellow soldiers. There would be a lot of fighting before this was over. A lot of blood. The people he knew might die while he pretended to be someone else. But to feel the way he did with Evellor, Mal would walk away without a hint of guilt. His friends could find their own winged warrior to love.
“Love,” Mal whispered. “Holy Tech, I'm in love.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Evellor
Evellor had snuck away from camp and flown into the dark sky high enough to evade detection before circling the fortress. It was time. Mal would be waiting for him. With anticipation shivering over his skin, Evellor waited a few minutes after the hourly patrol left, and then descended toward the back of the fortress.
Excitement vanished under fear.
The ward was down, and Mal was scampering down the side of the fortress wall, a black shadow against the pale stone. On the ground, coming around the corner, were six Aethari warriors who shouldn't be there. Evellor recognized all of them and cursed under his breath. It was Rallorival, the ex-rebel, and his friends. What the fuck were they doing behind the fortress?
“Oh, no,” Evellor whispered.
Rallorival had spotted Mal. But instead of shouting for the patrol, he smacked his friend on the arm and motioned. The Aethari warriors moved quietly toward the oblivious Mal. Six to one. Mal wouldn't stand a chance. It would be six to two if Evellor landed. He would have gladly taken those odds for Mal, and they would have won. Evellor was certain of it. Not asingle one of those warriors was a match for him. But if they saw Evellor, he wouldn't be able to have the life he wanted with Mal. He would have to kill them. As much as he detested these Aethari, Evellor wasn't a murderer. But if he hastened, he could render them unconscious before they could see his face.
Evellor swooped, grimacing at the cowardice of the act. But was it cowardice if it was the only option he had? It didn't matter. For Mal, he would abandon his morals.
The group of Aethari was already upon Mal, and Evellor's lover cringed against the wall as they circled him. It was the fear on his face that sent Evellor into a bloodthirsty rage that he barely restrained. His training saved him, and he held back his battle cry as he bashed two of the warriors' heads together. They fell to the ground. Then two more. Then the last. All within seconds. And not a single one looked his way. Mal kept them distracted.
The Aethari warriors lay in heaps around Mal's feet like an offering. But Mal didn't look at them. Didn't even glance at their slack faces and twisted wings. He gazed only upon Evellor. In his eyes were Evellor's dreams, all waiting to be fulfilled. Mal rushed forward, dropping the satchel he was carrying, and jumped into Evellor's arms.
They kissed passionately, hands roaming and clutching with the frenzy of those who thought they'd never reunite. When they eased apart, they were both breathless.
Sirens came.
