She came in like a storm, grin sharp enough to cut. Zarek followed behind her, massive and silent, watching his mate with the same bewildered affection I’d seen on his face ever since he brought her back.
“The silent one lives!” Bronwen threw herself into the chair Anhara had vacated. “I told Zarek you were too stubborn to die.” She turned back to her mate. “Pay up.”
Zarek grunted, reached into his pocket. Dropped a credit chip into her waiting hand.
“You bet on whether I’d survive?” I asked.
“I bet on you surviving. He bet on you being dramatic about it.” She pocketed the chip. “We were both right.”
Anhara stood near the viewport, watching the exchange with wide eyes. Bronwen’s attention swung to her immediately.
“You must be the farmer.” She bounced up from the chair. Crossed the room. Stood too close, the way she always did. “I’ve been taking care of your pig.”
“I heard. Thank you.”
“He’s magnificent. The way he gored that training dummy...” Bronwen sighed dreamily. “I think I’m in love.”
“He’s not usually that aggressive.”
“Oh, I bring it out in people.” Bronwen grinned. “Animals too. We understand each other, Turnip and I. We both appreciate the poetry of violence.”
Zarek put a hand on Bronwen’s shoulder. “We should let them rest.”
“Fine, fine.” Bronwen waved a hand. “But I’m keeping the pig. You can visit him whenever you want, but he’s mine now.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Anhara said.
“It’s how it works whenIsay it works.” Bronwen paused at the door. “I like her. She’s got spine. Don’t fuck it up.”
They left. The silence they left behind was almost deafening.
“That was...” Anhara started.
“Bronwen.”
“Is she always like that?”
“Usually worse.” I held out my hand. “Come here.”
She came. Sat on the edge of the bed. Let me pull her closer to where I could smell her hair. Soap and recycled air and beneath it all, just her.
“I should be terrified,” she said quietly. “New place. New people. Everything I knew is gone.”
“But?”
“But I’m not.” She turned her head. Looked at me. “I don’t know what that means.”
I knew. I’d known since she’d kissed me in the farmhouse kitchen. Since she’d held my hand through hyperspace. Since she’d refused to leave my side for three days while I healed.
“Anhara.”
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
The words came out easier than I’d expected. I’d been carrying them for days. Since the vault. Since the fire. Since she’d told me I had her and I’d realized I wanted that to be permanent.
She went still. Her eyes searched my face.
