by Rebecca Rode
Ember quickly examined Stefan, making sure he hadn’t been injured in the fall. Any harm he’d acquired from this would be emotional, his pride taking the biggest hit of all. He wouldn’t be happy when he awoke, but at least she wouldn’t need to explain the situation to a medic.
She lifted his torso to grab him around the chest from behind and pulled him toward the sofa. Her bed was too high, so this would have to do. She grunted and half rolled, half raised him onto the padded cushions.
Soon she had him positioned comfortably with the blanket wadded under his head. He still wore yesterday’s shirt and trousers, which were now covered in a thick layer of dirt from the floor. She wore yesterday’s clothing as well, come to think of it. It hadn’t stopped her from falling asleep.
She knelt on the floor near his feet where she could see his face clearly and sunk back, deep in thought.
Her side hurt from falling out of bed, but it was the ache in her heart that gripped her now. It had been so real—her village, her home. Dai’s snoring. Dear little Jaelle. She could almost pretend her village was still whole and women were still taking their goods to the market and Bianca was still holding Luca’s hand as he walked to school. Almost.
Her stomach clenched again, and she wrapped both arms around her middle to keep from retching. The deeper she buried the brokenness, the more sharply it returned.
Step aside, the voice said. Let me handle this. You’ll never have to feel the pain again.
It was nearly half an hour before Stefan stirred and his eyes fluttered open. She lurched to her feet and stood over him. “Stefan.”
“Never thought I’d date a woman who could kill me in her sleep,” Stefan muttered.
She forced a grin. It was too true to be amusing. She’d come so close to losing him tonight. One nightmare and he was almost gone forever. She cleared her throat, but the knot remained. “I thought you were an evil, dark cloud.”
“A cloud?” He pushed himself onto his elbows, then lay back down with a moan. “Next time imagine me as a dragon or something more intimidating.”
“Stefan, I—I’m so sorry. I didn’t ever mean for you to get hurt. Are you all right?”
“I’ve got a dozen hammers pounding on my skull, but other than that . . .” Stefan murmured. “I think it’s time we discussed these nightmares of yours.” He groaned as he tried to sit up again, this time successfully.
Ember was relieved to find him well, but the shadow of her nightmare still hovered in her mind. She sat down next to him, taking his arm, more to assure herself than him. “It can wait until morning. You need to rest in a real bed.”
“Ember.” He sounded weary. She sensed it had little to do with the late hour. “This is getting serious. You stay up late and get up early, and now these nightmares. You’re avoiding sleep to keep the dreams away. It isn’t healthy. No wonder your subconscious is . . . acting out.”
Her subconscious. So that was his explanation. It sounded very scientific, very logical. Not at all close to the truth.
She brushed at the dirt on her blanket, avoiding Stefan’s gaze. They’d discussed the day Ember defeated Ruben, but as terrible as her mental imprisonment had been, there was something worse, something she’d never told Stefan. She recalled the horror in his eyes as he’d looked upon the monster she’d become. There was a glimpse of that same wariness in his eyes now.
“You’re changing,” he continued, rubbing his temples with both hands. “You seem angry a lot of the time. Sometimes you’re so incredible, so loving and kind. And then you turn around and become this, this crazy stranger who attacks me in her sleep. Even yesterday, with how quickly you agreed to attack that convoy. You didn’t used to be that way.”
Ember whirled to face him. “So I’m insane to want to protect people?”
Stefan closed his eyes as if gathering his patience. “Look. All I’m saying is that the old Ember would have thought this through a bit more. You used to be reluctant to take risks that would mean people’s deaths. And those Albines—there’s no way the old Ember would have even considered running off with a group of suspicious strangers and leaving us behind.”
Ember had no intention of doing either, and she felt a surge of anger at the accusation. She stood, her hands on her hips. “You’re the one who said I’d be a hero. Either you trust me or you don’t.”
“Trust you!” He struggled to his feet, staring her down. There was a glint of anger in his light-blue eyes. “Which version of you am I supposed to trust? You’ve spent the past three months lying about how you had this virus under control. You attacked me in your sleep. If we have trust issues between us, it’s not on my end.” He turned with a huff and strode to the other end of the room.
Ember stared after him. He’d never yelled at her before. How could she describe what was happening to her? The days when she felt herself slipping away, the raging anger flushing through her veins like liquid fire? He said she didn’t trust him. The moment she told him about the shadow, he’d use it as an excuse to hold her back, lock her up, protect her, and keep her far from Ruben. If that meant she didn’t trust him, he was right—because she intended to fulfill what the stars meant for her to do.
Stefan whirled to face her. The anger had dimmed to an extent, and some of his calmness was back. “Look, if we’re going to survive the next few weeks, you’ve got to conquer this. Not after the mission, not after the evacuation, but right now. Because if that happens again, a lot of innocent people could get hurt.”
Bodies on the floor.
“Why did you come?” she asked. His quarters were just down the hall. After her rude interruption at the interrogation yesterday, she’d assumed Stefan wouldn’t speak with her for a while.
“I came to tell you I volunteered for the mission,” Stefan said. “You were asleep, so I took the sofa. And don’t begin to tell me I should stay behind. We had an agreement—where you go, I go. Personally, I don’t think it should be a given that you head this thing. Captain Terrance seems to have it all under control. A flicker team and a few soldiers should be plenty.”
He’d guessed at her next words correctly. She didn’t want him in danger again, but there was no way a handful of flickers could take down a convoy. Not if it was as large and well defended as General Pyne seemed to think. “I’m going. You’re welcome to come under one condition—if you stop worrying and help me save this settlement.”
He folded his arms. “And I say you aren’t going until you convince me you have this under control.”
In the end, he’ll choose the others over you.
The shadow’s warning disturbed her. If either of them was acting strangely tonight, it was Stefan. Did his insistence spring from love or fear? Did Stefan want her healed so they could begin their life together, or did he simply want to neutralize her as a threat?
Dark threads of doubt mixed in with her own thoughts, making it impossible to tell where her questions ended and the shadow’s questions began. Tonight they worried together.
Stefan sighed and dropped his arms. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not going to make you take the antidote. Like I said, that’s your decision. But it’s time to do something. I found a psychologist who said she would try to help you.”
Ember felt the rage return, the mindless anger that came in moments of high emotion. Stefan really did think she was insane. He’d talked to a psychologist about her. She could just imagine how that conversation had gone. My girlfriend is sick in the head. Can you fix her?
He took a step toward her and plunged on. “Even if you don’t want to discuss the virus, they have medication to help your nightmares. It’s a good place to start. Maybe when you’re more rested, you’ll be happier and more alert. It will give you the strength to conquer this.”
This. He still refused to call the virus by its name. As long as it remained nameless and formless, he thought it small and easy to contain. He was so far removed from her reality it physically hurt.
And now he wanted to drug her.
Awfully convenient for him, having a well-behaved and docile version of Ember to parade around. No more worrying about accidental attacks in the night. No more arguments in cabinet meetings. No foolish volunteering for dangerous missions he’d feel obligated to volunteer for. And best of all—maybe that version of herself would willingly accept the antidote. She’d drink it, lose her power, and dance happily off into whatever future Stefan wanted her to.
“Ember,” Stefan said in a concerned tone. “Is something wrong?”
You finally see it, the inner voice said, pleased. You know what he really is now.
Stefan refused to read people without their permission. He called it violating, and until lately Ember had agreed. But everything had changed in the last twelve hours. It felt as if settlement life had been turned on its head, the lines between friends and enemies muddled and blurry. She had to know who to trust, and the stars had provided her with a foolproof way to do just that.
Ember reached inwardly toward Stefan’s shield. It immediately solidified at her touch. Another sign that this man wanted trust but refused to give it in return. The realization made her ache. Maybe the shadow was right about him after all.
She could spend the next few days wondering, suspecting, worrying. Or she could know the truth here and now.
Ember cupped her inner hands around his shield. She paused there for a moment, considering what this would mean for them. If he truly loved her, he would forgive her. Or maybe she just hoped that was true.
I’m sorry, Stefan.
Then she cracked the shield open.
Stefan’s eyes widened as she plunged inside. His lips parted in disbelief. Ember closed her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see the hurt expression transition into one of betrayal.
She filed quickly through his memories. There was so much good in this man. He’d tried to speak to Bianca on her behalf once, an encounter he hadn’t told Ember about. It hadn’t gone well. He had that antidote with him now, in his pocket. He’d been carrying it around for days, hoping she would come to her senses. How long would he wait before forcing it upon her?
“Ember,” Stefan snapped, breaking her focus. “This is not okay. Stop it.”
She released his memories and went the other direction, speeding through the present toward his blurry future. There were only images now, flashes of future events. The convoy mission. A battle with bodies all around. Ruben. She paused at that, then pushed forward. But there was nothing there.
Frowning, she swept through the blur again, but it wouldn’t go far. There was just the battle, Ruben, and empty space where Stefan’s future should have been.
It took Ember a second to realize what that meant. Either her ability to read a person’s future had significantly changed, or . . .
Or Stefan was going to die.
Chapter 8
Stefan stood there with his fists curled and his jaw clenched, glaring at the woman in front of him. It was happening. He was losing Ember. The woman he’d fallen in love with would never have violated him like this.
He hadn’t expected her to like the psychologist idea, but he certainly hadn’t expected this reaction. He’d left so much behind for this woman, yet she didn’t trust him enough to ask a simple question. No, instead she had dug through his mind like he was some criminal. He should turn around, walk out, and refuse to return until she was back to herself.
A single thought stopped him. This erratic behavior wasn’t Ember. It was the virus, and he had the only cure. It was clear the symptoms weren’t going away without outside help, and only he could provide that. He’d brought her back from that twisted, dark place once before.
But she’d been so far gone that day, nearly beyond his reach. The being that had overcome her was so clearly different from the woman he loved. He remembered with perfect clarity the way her eyes had returned to normal and she’d melted into his arms, slowly responding to his kiss.
This woman didn’t feel like the bloodthirsty flare who had defeated Ruben. It felt like Ember, which meant she knew exactly what she was doing. That was what hurt the most.
“Ember,” he said again, forcing himself to unclasp his hands. Her eyes remained closed, her eyelids fluttering. He pulled her against his chest. Her long black hair smelled amazing. “If you need to know something, just ask. I’ll tell you anything.” He always had. It stung that she believed otherwise.
Ember gasped, and then she was back. She stared up at Stefan in complete shock and horror, then tore herself out of his arms and stumbled backward. The pain on her face was indescribable.
Stefan watched her in confusion, his anger evaporating. The pressure on his mind was gone. Was she shocked about his meeting with the medic? He didn’t discuss her condition with others, but perhaps even that act qualified as betrayal in her mind. “Ember, I—I think we need to discuss this.”
She didn’t seem capable of speech. Instead, she backed up until the bed stopped her and she sunk onto it, eyes hollow.
“You’re scaring me,” he said, joining her on the bed. “I’m not happy about what you just did, but tell me what you saw. We’ll work through it together.” The last part was almost exactly what he’d said to her on that loading dock, when he’d asked to come back to the Union with her.
Not together, she’d shot back. Never again.
He had worked so hard to rebuild the trust between them since then, until a simple argument had unraveled everything. The way she looked at him—not only did this woman not trust him, she looked afraid of him. As if he’d done something unthinkable, as if he’d slapped her in the face. When he looked at her he saw hurt. Betrayal. Horror.
“Would you like me to leave?” he finally asked, frustration pushing him to the snapping point.
She nodded.
Stefan gritted his teeth. If only he’d approached the whole psychologist thing differently. He thought again of the antidote in his pocket, then shook his head. She would return to her senses tomorrow. He’d reason with her then.
He exhaled and stood, stalking toward the door. “Try to get some sleep. I’m not joking. We’ll talk about this in the morning when you’re feeling better.”
When she didn’t respond, he slipped out the door and into the cool corridor beyond. The room was silent as he closed the door behind him.
Chapter 9
The instrument panel before Ember was a mess of lights, screens, and sensors. A few months ago she would have been completely at a loss, a Roma woman with no experience in space travel and even less in air combat. Now she led a revolution against an emperor. It was as if her life had taken a sharp, vicious turn and she had to spend every waking moment trying to get back on track.
Stefan was going to die.
The reality of it felt stuck somewhere in her muddled thoughts, like a knowledge of events too distant to be seen.
She watched Stefan standing just outside the ship, beyond the hull. He was talking to the lift operator and gesturing to the ship. The operator nodded his head thoughtfully. They must be discussing how to fit as many troops on this mission as possible. Stefan was good at solving problems, except when it came to Ember. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t fix her. She wasn’t a broken part that needed repairing. And he certainly couldn’t fix the one thing that had gripped her mind since he’d left last night.
Stefan was going to die.
Ember had lost her parents, her village, her best friend. Surely the stars wouldn’t take Stefan, too. It would render everything irrelevant. She wanted to win, but Stefan was the core of her plan. With him gone, there would be no victory. No future. Nothing at all.
The stars are never wrong, my light. Dai’s last words before her kidnapping.
Well, this time they were. She would leave Stefan behind. He’d have plenty to do here. There were new recruits to oversee and visitors and techs who needed supervision. He’d have a lot of questions, but at least he’d be safe. And it would give her time to prepare an answer for the question she dreaded most.<
br />
What did you see?
She couldn’t tell him. Once she voiced it, it would grow from a thought into something tangible. As long as the memory remained inside her, she could pretend it wasn’t real.
A memory floated to mind, another moment with Neraline. Ember had dipped into the woman’s memories and found one of Nick, her father, trying to leave Neraline behind. In the end, he’d given in and let her come.
It’s what lovers did—fought to stay together. If Stefan were sent away, Ember would do everything in her power to join him. If there was an ounce of love left in him after her behavior last night, he’d do the same for her.
Which was why she wouldn’t give him the chance.
Her thoughts returned to the present. Come on, Amai. The woman was supposed to have met her here several minutes ago. It was the first phase of her plan. Amai would send for Stefan just before their departure. Then they’d leave without him.
She realized she was voicing the plan aloud and snapped her mouth closed. No wonder the others thought she was losing her mind.
“Lady Flare.”
Ember came back to herself and turned to find a station worker standing at attention in the doorway. The uniformed boy who had spoken seemed far too young to be working here. She had to remind herself he was only slightly younger than her twenty years. “Yes?”
The boy stood at attention, the reddening of his cheeks the only indication he’d heard her muttering. “There’s a woman who wants to meet with you. Says she needs your authorization to join the mission. What should I tell her, ma’am?”
Not Amai, then. Ember frowned, eyeing the tube entrance across the giant cavern. Maybe she had a minute or two. “Send her in.”
The worker inclined his head and hurried away. A moment later, a woman with a long black braid strode up the gangplank. Ember’s breath caught in her throat.
Bianca.
Her former best friend, who’d refused to even look at Ember, was approaching. Her braid— still indicating her married status—swung with each step. Whether she wore it out of comfort or convenience or simply habit, Ember didn’t know, but her heart beat gleefully at the very familiarity of it.
