They walked side by side, not touching, but close enough that she felt his bodyheat through the air.
“Darren is a man’s name on Earth, too,” she told him, smiling up at him. She wanted to know more about him. He flicked a glance at her, quizzical.
“Really?”
“Why did your parents pick that name for you?”
He smiled back. “It’s been in my family for a long time. It doesn’t help that there were three males to name at once.” He chuckled and the look he gave her was full of intimacy.
“How did your parents choose three names at once?”
“It was my grandfather's name and his father before that. Lero was also a family name. Blayze was my father’s best friend.”
Parents.They were an unknown concept to Aelanna. The thought of two adults personally involved in her life and making decisions that affected her profoundly was a foreign concept to her, a life experience she’d never had. She shook the thought off as she did any idea she couldn’t cope with.
They walked in silence a short way, then he said, “There’s something I want to show you.”
She looked up at him, a question in her eyes.
He nodded toward a branching corridor. “The observation gallery. It’s one of the safest places on the ship. And one of the most peaceful.”
Peaceful sounded perfect.
He led her down a dimmer hallway, the lights softening to a twilight glow. The door at the end slid open, revealing a long, curved room lined with transparent panels that looked out into the vastness of space.
Aelanna stopped, breath catching.
Stars. Endless stars. A river of light stretching intoforever.
“Oh,” she whispered.
Darren watched her, not the view. “You can come here whenever you like. Day or night cycle. The gallery is always open.”
“It’s beautiful,” she murmured.
“It helps some people feel calmer,” he said. “Especially on their first journey.”
She glanced at him. “Is the journey always like this?”
“Mostly.” He folded his hands behind his back, posture straight, voice steady. “A few stabilizer fluctuations. Routine checks. Nothing dangerous. You’re safe on this ship.”
Safe. The word settled over her like a warm blanket.
She stepped closer to the glass, watching a cluster of stars drift past. “Where are we going?”
He hesitated. Just a breath. But she felt it.
“Ohiri,” he said finally.
The name meant nothing to her, but the way he said it — flat, controlled — made her chest tighten. “How long will it take to get there?”
“Five days,” he said. “Six, if the wormhole lanes are congested.”
She turned to him. “What is Ohiri?”
His jaw tightened. “A planet.”
“Your planet?”
