“Karik Za'Rell did all this.” His father gestured to the room with a wave of his hand.
It all clicked together. The sideways glances from the nursing staff. The way the doctors had treated him with some deference.
“You have a debt to repay, son.”
* * *
Zac ran a hand over his face and straightened, shaking off the memories. He stood and continued packing, this time more methodically.
He’d found out later that his father had petitioned the Supreme Commander for the advisor position. Zac had refused the role, and they had refused his resignation in return. Instead, he and T’arq had been assigned to the Zataras under the watchful eye of Tomas, far away from any conflict.
If he was honest with himself, he had become bored almost immediately.
Until he’d met Laila.
Laila was a complication that he had not foreseen. She was a spark of light in an otherwise gray, monotonous existence. His chest tightened when he thought of her. He couldn't lose her the way he had lost the warriors under his command. She already meant too much to him.
Clinging to the past, like some kind of barnacle, was not helping him. T’arq had told him that often enough, but it had taken meeting Laila for Zac to realize it was the truth. His entire life revolved around what others wanted.
Maybe being injured wasn’t the ending he had feared; maybe it was the new beginning he desperately needed.
Had it taken meeting Laila to realize that he’d been living a life he didn’t want?
