“I think,” I say carefully, choosing each word like it might cut me if I’m careless, “that staying is easy until it isn’t.”
He watches me for a long moment, then nods once. “Yes.”
The agreement throws me off balance.
“People stay,” I continue, my voice tightening despite myself, “until they realize they can’t live without something you can’t give them. And then they go. And you’re left holding the quiet like it’s your fault.”
Silence presses down between us, thick and heavy. Somewhere behind us, Rverre shifts in her sleep. Illadon murmurs softly and settles again. Life, continuing, oblivious.
Korr’s voice is low when he speaks. “I am not that male.”
“You don’t know that,” I say immediately. Too fast. Too desperate.
“I do,” he replies.
I turn on him, frustration blazing. “You don’t get to promise things you can’t control.”
“I am not promising,” he says. “I am stating intent.”
“That’s the same thing,” I snap.
“No,” he says, stepping closer just enough that I can feel the heat of him again. “A promise depends on outcome. Intent depends on choice.”
I swallow hard. My throat burns.
“Well,” I say, forcing steel into my voice, “my choice is to keep my distance.”
His eyes soften. It’s not pity or judgment, but understanding. My resolve quavers, for a moment I almost let him in, but I know better. I cross my arms over my chest and turn away.
“Then I will respect that,” he says. “But I will still keep watch.”
I scoff, turning away again. “Of course you will.”
He doesn’t rise to the bait.
“Rest,” he says instead. “The worst of the heat will break soon.”
I close my eyes briefly, fighting the sting behind them. “I’m not sleeping again.”
“I did not ask you to.”
I glance back at him despite myself. He has already turned away, resuming his place at the edge of our fragile circle. Guard. Sentinel. Line-holder.
I sink back against the stone, drawing my cloak tighter, heart still aching but slower now. The pain doesn’t vanish. It never does. But it dulls, just enough to breathe around.
I don’t thank him. I can’t even look at him, but when my pulse finally steadies, when the desert stops feeling like it’s pressing in on all sides, I know the truth even if I won’t let myself say out loud.
He stayed. And that scares me more than the dream ever did.
9
TALIA
Iwake to the sound of my name.
Spoken softly, but close, calling me from the depths of sleep.
“Talia.”
