A pale blue dress lay across the bed, and she wore a green one that trailed on the floor. The color of a precious stone onhis erstwhile planet, a cloudy green that artisans carved trinkets and jewelry from, she looked sensational in it, but having been made for Dheltan women, it was far too long. No doubt the blue dress was the same. She clutched the fabric of the skirt in front of her so she wouldn’t trip over it, and he could see her feet and ankles. The sight didn’t help his self-control.
He’d sent the case up himself to Nayli after discovering the girls’ main luggage had been “misplaced.”
Aelanna moved beside the bed, fingers brushing the fabric of the blue dress. “They’re lovely,” she murmured, “but… they’re too long.”
“I’ll fix them,” Darren said.
She blinked. “You sew?”
He did.In his own culture, he’d taken an interest in clothes design and dressmaking, and he was good at it. It was a respected profession for both men and women, but only practiced in the Dheltan enclave on Ohiri these days.
“Move to the middle of the room and hold still,” he said. Taking a tin of pins from his pocket, he knelt, gathering the hem of the dress she wore. The color suited her more than the blue one, he thought; it complimented her red hair, like the twilight of home. He pinned the fabric to the right length with quick, precise motions, hands steady.
Aelanna watched him, head tilted. “You’re good at this.”
“I used to be a couturier,” he told her quietly. “On Dhelta.”
Her breath caught as she looked down at him. “Before…?”
Avoiding catching her eye, he kept his head bowed. “Yes.”
She stood still as he worked, the hem brushing his knuckles. Her scent, a mix of floral shower soap, human — something uniquelyher, unbearable — curled around him, making it difficult to breathe.
When he finished pinning the first side, she turned slightly so he could reach the other. Her hair fell over hershoulder, brushing his cheek. He froze.
“Darren?” she whispered.
He winced, a tiny movement that he hoped she hadn’t noticed. “Don’t move.”
But she did. She stepped back, forcing him to rise. Her eyes searched his face, her look a mixture of worried and quizzical.
“You’ve been cold with me,” she said. “Ever since we arrived.”
He didn’t want to go there and he looked away. “It’s nothing. It doesn’t matter.”
“It’s not nothing,” she pressed, and moved closer. “You barely look at me. You barely speak. I thought we were friends, but you won’t even stand near me unless you must.”
“Aelanna—” He clenched his jaw.Friends. They could be so much more.
“Why?” Her voice trembled. “What did I do?”
His head snapped up, then he stood. “You did nothing.”
“Then why are you cold to me?”
He exhaled slowly, the breath shaking. “Orders.”
Her brow furrowed. “What orders? From who?”
“From Crukugs.” The name tasted like ash. “He told me not to get close to you, to any of you.”
Aelanna stared at him, stunned. “Why?”
“Because you’re intended for Ohirin warriors.” The words scraped his throat raw. “Because this mission is an experiment. Because you’re… valuable.”
Her face went white, and he felt bad for the situation they found themselves in, and worse that he hadn’t warned her. He’d avoided thinking about it, tried to push it out of his mind, but they couldn’t avoid the day of reckoning. It was inevitable.
She stepped closer, voice breaking. “Is that why you won’t look at me? Why you won’t talk to me? Because he told you not to care?”
