And maybe it is.
But they don’t know.
They don’t know I wasn’t alone in that ship.
They don’t know I met a monster with gold eyes and claws that held me like I was sacred.
They don’t know I waslovedso hard it still aches.
They don’t know I lost him in silence.
And they definitely don’t know that somewhere deep inside me?—
I still feel him.
Like gravity.
Like a burn.
Like the heartbeat I can’t hear anymore but still move in rhythm to.
At night,I dream of fire.
Not screaming or smoke—just light. Blinding. Endless.
And in it, I hear his voice.
Not words. Just breath.
Garokk, the Brutal.
My jalshagar.
My ghost.
CHAPTER 13
ISOLDE
Time gets weird when you’re not trying to fill it.
There’s no schedule here. No feeds to stream. No interviews to prep. No high-speed connection syncing me to three billion people who all think theyknowme. Just soft-voiced doctors with padded shoes and tea I never drink.
They tell me it’s been weeks.
It feels like lifetimes.
I keep to the suite mostly. The staff learned pretty quick not to knock unless it’s life-or-death. Even Reflector keeps quiet unless I speak first. He hovers in the corner of the room like a tiny, damaged moon, pulsing faint blue, watching. Waiting.
At night, I sit by the window. Not because I believe I’llseeanything. But because I need to remember the shape of the sky.
Somewhere out there—past the satellites and static, past the broken bones of old battlecruisers—he died.
Garokk.
And I can’t stop thinking about the way he looked at me right before the door sealed. Like I was the only thing he’d ever regret.
I don’t cry anymore. Not really. I used to, back in the pod. Back when I thought if I screamed loud enough into that vacuum, he’d answer.
