But what about all the good it could bring? Crystal had focused on the bad for so long that she’d never stopped to think about the opposite.
And it could bring happiness. She knew that for certain. She’d felt it. It could bring safety and comfort and pleasure andfamily, all the things that she desired above all else.
A hovercraft approached, coming from the outpost’s center. For a moment, her heartbeat shot into her throat, a longing so intense building in her that she was momentarily stunned by it.
But it was Lihvan, coming from the command center, coming home to his own pregnant, happy mate.
He studied her when he landed the hovercraft a short distance from his dwelling and then jumped down, approaching her.
“Are you well, female?” he asked.
Do I love him? Can I live without him?
Yes. No.
She looked up at Lihvan once he stopped in front of her. Shedidknow what she needed to do.
“Will you have someone take me toOtala?”
Lihvan stilled. She thought he had every reason to dislike her, for breaking his friend’s heart, for rejecting him so callously.
“Why?” he asked, his tone gruff. And maybe a large part of himdiddislike her. Hell, Crystal hadn’t liked herself the last four days. But Crystal didn’t let that dissuade her.
“I love him,” she said simply. “I made a mistake. Will you help me?”
He studied her. Whatever he thought, he kept hidden behind a guarded expression.
But finally, he inclined his head and relief burst through her, so sharp and clear that her legs trembled.
“I will take you there myself.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
There was a familiar scent in the air, but Cruxan ignored it as he walked back to his dwelling. His female’s scent had been haunting him the last five spans and he knew that it was nothing but his own willful imaginings.
“Ambassador,” a warrior greeted, inclining his head, making his way down theOtylia, the jagged, imposing mountain range thatOtalawas crafted from. It was a long, winding way down to the command center, to the warrior training grounds, from his dwelling, but he needed the cool, brisk air to help clear his mind.
Cruxan inclined his head in greeting at the young warrior, who he passed without another word, skirting around the mountain cliff’s edge.
He could walk theOtyliawith his eyes closed. He had walked the rocky, dangerous paths more times than he could count, especially the path leading up to his dwelling. His home was perched on a private cliff, a dwelling he’d created for himself, to be away from the noise of the outpost which lay below. And most nights, except for the howling wind, he heard nothing.
He dreaded going there now. Before, it had been his sanctuary. Now, it only reminded himself that he was alone. The quiet had a way of creeping in and settling. It was beginning to settle in his bones. He was thinking of moving down to the outpost below, to escape it.
Another familiar scent caught on the wind and he huffed out an impatient breath. Tarax was waiting for him on the small curve that led up to his dwelling, clothed in a red dress, the material much too light and fragile for anOtalanight. Except, he knew that Tarax expected that night to be spent in his sleeping platform, underneath his furs.
The thought churned his gut and he clenched his jaw, prepared for a confrontation.
“Ambassador,” she murmured, lowering her eyes when he reached her.
Cruxan had been on edge since he’d leftKroratax. His temper was short, his mood volatile.
Even still, he tried to say as gently as he could, “Tarax,we discussed this.”
She’d come to him the morning he’d reachedOtala. He’d explained to her that he was no longer interested in their pleasure partnership, that he wasn’t interested inanyrelationship.
She’d pressed but eventually determined that he was serious and had left in a huff.
Now this…
