But he had done all he could, hadn’t he? What was left to convince her to stay? Blood was blood, family was family. He understood that better than most.
And he’d promised her, long ago, that he would not stop her if she wished to return home.
“You should stay with Beks and Lihvan this night,” he said quietly. Never again would he feel her sleeping against him. Never again would he wake to her.
The grief of that knowledge almost broke him. A part of him was in denial about it.
“I know,” she whispered, her voice clogged with her tears, which hadn’t stopped falling from her eyes since the hot spring. “Cruxan…”
He waited, but she didn’t—or couldn’t—say anything else.
He didn’t know why he told her—perhaps to reassure her—but he said, “Vaxa’an believes he will retrieve the crystal in the coming weeks. You will see your sister again soon. I know it. And I promise that I will continue searching for Erin and Jaxor’an, so that she can return to Earth with you if she wishes.”
She bit her lip when it trembled and Cruxan blew out a short breath, knowing that prolonging their goodbye would only make it that much harder.
“C-Cruxan,” she whispered. “Iwasfalling in love with you. You have to believe that. I don’t want you to think—”
“Don’t,” he rasped, tensing up, feeling like a fist was squeezing his throat, his heart. “Don’t, female.”
And because he knew he wouldn’t be able tonotkiss her one last time, he pulled her close and pressed his lips against hers. He pulled her scent deep into his lungs, tasted her tears, and memorized her taste, her heat.
Then he stepped back, far enough away so he wouldn’t be tempted to reach for her again.
“Go,” he murmured, his voice gruff.
When she didn’t move, frustration and heartbreak and sadness rose up in him.
He couldn’t watch her leave. It would tear him up, so it was him who turned his back. It was him who stepped up to his dwelling, opened the door, and stepped through it into the darkness.
But before he did, he looked back at her one last time and said, “I hope you find your happiness, female. I hope you find everything you want.”
And it wasn’t him.
And he had to accept that.
Then he shut the door, standing in the dark, numb. On the other side of the door, he could hear her. He could hear her wipe at her cheeks. He could hear the gentle sobs that shook her body and every single one tore at him.
He listened to her until she finally turned away. He heard her approach Lihvan’s and Beks’ dwelling.
And all he wanted to do was snatch her back in his arms. All he wanted to do was take her toOtala,the same thing that Vikan and even Kirov had done with their mates. They’d stolen them away. He wanted to convince her to stay with him, to never want to leave.
But he couldn’t do that to her. It was her choice. He’d always known that. He couldn’t force his will on her, not after everything she’d been through, or else he was no better than her previous partner.
He didn’t know how long he stood there, but eventually, he heard footsteps approach. For a moment, he wished they were Crystal’s, but he knew they weren’t.
Lihvan entered his dwelling, his face guarded and careful. One look at Cruxan made pity enter the male’s gaze and Cruxan could hardly bear to look at it.
“Don’t,” he growled, repeating the same words he’d said to his female.
“There is still hope,” Lihvan said, watching him. “Believe that.”
He shook his head. “I do not share your optimism. She was very clear and her mind was made up. She will not stay.”
“You never know what might happen,” Lihvan said, worry obvious on his features. He feared what Cruxan might do, that much was clear. Fated mates very rarely carried on alone, after their other halves were gone.
“Do not worry,” Cruxan said. “I will not journey to the blackworld so soon.”
“How can I not worry?” his friend growled. “You look as you did once you discovered your sisters and your mother after the Plague. And I was there. I remember.”
