by Kali Argent
“Strong. Is that really your name?”
“Yes.” She had no reason to lie about it. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“No.” His head jerked from side to side, making his long locks sway against his back. “I mean, is that your last name or…his?” His hands turned white-knuckled on the controls, and a string of curses rolled off his tongue. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”
Meaning, he wouldn’t feel any differently about her, regardless of the answer, because to be sure, it mattered to him. He’d been careful during their time together to never bring up her past or speak of Henry. He didn’t ask questions she’d rather avoid. After that first night on the balcony in Sommervail, he’d never mentioned it again, but she knew he thought about it.
How could he not?
“Henry Atwood. His name was Henry Atwood.”
Kylir didn’t say anything, but he visibly relaxed in his seat, the tension melting out of his shoulders.
“My name was officially reverted back to Strong the day he went to prison.”
Absently, she stroked the left side of her face from temple to cheek with her index finger. She had told him part of the reason she’d kept that mark, but that had been when she’d barely know him. Now, things had changed, and he deserved the whole truth.
“Yes, I kept this mark as a reminder, but also as a shield, to protect me from other elites and make sure no one ever got too close.” She didn’t know why that was so hard to admit—maybe because it made her sound weak—but she had to force the words past trembling lips. “It’s not my identity, but name? I wasn’t going to let him take that from me.”
It was a conversation they should probably be having on solid ground. Face to face, with eye contact, a sad song playing in the background, and enough liquor to send her into a coma.
This was better.
Easier.
Safer.
* * * *
Vasera Rya Clearwater was unlike any Xenon Astrid had yet to meet.
Her hair wasn’t black or bronze or gold, but a silvery white that tumbled down her back in shimmering ringlets. When she greeted them, her smile never faltered, and her bright magenta eyes never lingered longer than was appropriate. She didn’t approach them with caution or reluctance, and every word from her bow-shaped lips was spoken with utter sincerity.
She was kind and welcoming, warm and bubbly, and pure joy seemed to radiate from her very pores. Her smile lit up a room, and her laughter was infectious. Within ten minutes of meeting her, Astrid wasn’t embarrassed at all to admit she had a total girl-crush on the female.
The Vasera’s mate, on the other hand, was an intimidating Helios with dark whiskey eyes and a brutal-looking scar that ran the length of his face. Despite his appearance, he’d also welcomed them with kindness, and it was clear to anyone watching how much he adored his female and their daughter.
The dining hall was smaller than others she’d seen, more intimate, with crystal chandeliers overhead, and flickering candles on the table. The table itself appeared to be a tree trunk that had been sawed in half vertically, then sanded and polished to a shine. More interesting and far less pretentious than anywhere else she had dined since arriving on the planet.
“Da!” Seated between her parents, the child took a piece of bread from the table and attempted to shove the entire thing into her father’s mouth. “Da!”
Astrid bit her bottom lip to muffle her giggle. She couldn’t say who was cuter—the little girl or her doting father.
“Well, she clearly knows who her dad is.”
Across the table from her, Captain Garrik Clearwater snorted. “It’s her first word, and she uses it for everything.” He looked very much like his sister, only with inky black hair and slightly sharper features. “Sion gets carried away.”
The Helios glared at him. “I do not. She’s obviously saying ‘dad.’ Even Astrid heard her.”
Garrik snickered against the rim of his wine goblet. “Sure, if you ignore the fact that ‘da’ is interchangeable with everything from ‘yes’ to ‘purple,” it’s definitely obvious.” He looked over to Astrid and winked. “Seriously, don’t encourage him. He’s already impossible to live with.”
“Don’t let him fool you,” Rya said from the head of the table. “My dear brother has become considerably less temperamental since becoming an uncle.”
“What she’s trying to say,” Sion added, “is that he’s not quite such an asshole anymore.”
“Language!” Rya and Garrik snapped at the same time.
Astrid couldn’t help it. One giggle turned into another, then another, and eventually she was laughing so hard her belly ached and her cheeks felt flushed. The trio might push each other’s buttons, but it was clear how much they all loved one another. It was the way she’d always imagined a normal family to be, and exactly what she’d always wanted.
As if sensing her longing, Kylir’s hand covered hers on the table, and he squeezed her fingers gently. He hadn’t said much since they’d arrived on the Eastern Isle, but he hadn’t seemed angry or on edge, just thoughtful. Thinking back to their conversation on the shuttle, she guessed it was to be expected.
“So, what do you think of our island so far?” Garrik asked.
“It’s beautiful,” she answered honestly. She’d only seen a bit from the air as they’d flown over, but it had been breathtaking, especially after leaving the gloom of the mountains up north. “I’m looking forward to exploring more of it this week.”
“Just don’t wander too deep into the forests,” Rya warned, her expression unusually serious. “Not everything in there is friendly.”
“She’s right.” Garrik nodded solemnly. “We wouldn’t have anything to happen to someone so lovely.”
Without warning, he was jerked backward, like an invisible rope had been lassoed around his chest. His chair toppled over with a loud crash, sending the captain sprawling across the wooden floor with a painfilled grunt.
Still shocked by what she’d seen, Astrid nearly jumped out of her skin when something brushed against her lower leg. Leaning back in her seat, she glanced down, just in time to see Kylir’s tail slink out from under the table.
“Who did that?” Garrik roared, bounding to his feet and pinning everyone at the table with a furious glare.
Calmly, Kylir crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head to the side. “Stop flirting with her.” His tone was amicable enough, but there was steel in his eyes. “She’s mine.”
Astrid forgot how to breathe.
Reaching over, she fisted her hand in the collar of his T-shirt and pulled him toward her. “I should probably be pissed, but that was hot.” Mindful of their audience, she kept the kiss short and chaste, even as her heart pounded against her sternum. “Thank you.”
Cradling one side of her face, he drew her closer, rubbing his cheek against the other. “I’m going to go do a system check on the shuttle. Are you okay here alone?”
“Garrik.” Rya didn’t speak loudly, but everyone in the room quieted.
The captain stared at her for a moment, then turned to Kylir. “I apologize.” No sarcasm. No excuses. “It won’t happen again.”
Kylir gave him a curt nod, then turned back to Astrid. “Your choice, onye.”
It was clear that he didn’t just mean staying in the manor without him. From the very start, he’d been all in, unwavering. He’d given her time and space, and he’d been more patient than anyone had any right to ask of him, including her.
“I’ll be okay here.” She needed time away from him to think, and it dawned on her that he probably already knew that.
“Okay.” He kissed her again before rising from the table. “I’ll find you when I’m finished.”
He wasn’t the only one to leave, either. Not long after his exit, Garrik disappeared from the room, there one minute and gone the next. An attendant who had been introduced as Fawkes came and took the baby away. Sion excused himself, and Astrid thought the Vasera would as
well, but she just smiled at her mate and waved him away.
“Come join me.” Rya motioned to the seat next to her, opposite where Sion had just been sitting.
It wasn’t an order, but not exactly an invitation. Regardless, there didn’t seem to be a reason to refuse, so Astrid placed her napkin neatly across her empty plate, then moved around the table to the indicated chair.
“I mean no offense, Miss Astrid, but you look like you could use a friend.”
“And a drink.” Strolling back into the room, Sion held up a deep blue bottle and three glasses.
He placed the short glasses on the table and filled them one-by-one without further comment. As he poured, Astrid realized it wasn’t the glass of the bottle that was such a dark blue, it was the liquid itself.
“What is it?” she asked, holding up the glass he passed to her as if staring at it might reveal its secrets.
“Cairbora Sapphire Ale,” Rya answered.
Sion snorted. “It’s beer.” Moving behind Rya, he paused to drop a kiss to the top of her head before resuming his seat. “My princess has a flair for the dramatic.”
“It sounds prettier.”
He snorted again. “Like I said, dramatic.” Finishing his drink in two long swallows, he dropped the glass to the table with a thud and reached for the bottle to refill it. “Me? I like to cut straight to the point.”
At his pointed looked toward her own drink, Astrid lifted the glass to her lips and drank obediently. They might call it beer, but it tasted nothing like the disgusting stuff she’d had on Earth or various space stations. The ale was a little sweet, a little sour, but overall, not bad.
She took another long draft.
Sion remained silent, waiting for her to finish every drop, then reached across the table to pour her another drink.
It had been a long time since she’d allowed herself to indulge, too afraid of what might happen if she ever crossed the line from happily tipsy to outright drunk. Kylir trusted their hosts, though. He would have never let her out of his sight if he didn’t. And she trusted him. So, while she had no intentions of getting hammered in front of these strangers, one more drink wouldn’t hurt her.
“Better?” Sion asked when she brought the glass to her lips again.
She did feel better. Not inebriated, but warm and tranquil, like a massive weight had been lifted from her chest, and for the first time in a long time, she could really breathe.
“This stuff is amazing.”
“It’s very calming,” Rya agreed easily. Placing her hands on the table, she leaned forward, her eyes bright with curiosity. “If it’s not too rude to ask, what is the treaty with you and Kylir?”
Astrid blinked. “Treaty?”
“I think she meant to ask what the deal is with you and Kylir,” Sion clarified, throwing his mate an indulgent grin. “She wants to know if you two are mated.”
“No.” Astrid shook her head. “Yes? I mean, yes, he’s my mate.” Her brow furrowed, and she waved her hand. “I’m his keeper?” Finally, she just gave up and slumped back in her seat. “I have no idea.”
Rya, however, was all kinds of intrigued. “A keeper? Is that like a soulmate?”
“Yeah, I guess you could say that.”
“But you’re not bonded,” Sion stated confidently. “He hasn’t claimed you.”
Astrid sighed and slid even deeper into her seat. “No.” She only had herself to blame. He wanted to claim her. She could see it every time he looked at her. If she searched past her own fear, she wanted that, too. She wanted it more than anything. “I love him.”
The words were quiet, spoken more to herself than to anyone else, and the sudden epiphany nearly stopped her heart.
“Have you told him?”
Still reeling from her own admission, she looked at the Helios and shook her head.
“Why not?”
Partly, because she’d only confessed it to herself five seconds ago. Mostly, because the knowledge terrified her. “It’s complicated.”
“Because of that nifty little tattoo?” He tapped a spot near his left eye to indicate which tattoo he meant.
“In a way.” Not the mark itself, but more the reminders it carried with it. “It’s not what you think.”
“So, you’re not bonded to someone else?”
The way he spoke, it felt more like he was trying to make a point rather than ferret information from her. “Why do I get the feeling you already know the whole story?”
Sion tipped his glass toward her. “Because you’re smart.”
“Ivy,” she guessed.
“Right in one.”
Rya watched them silently, her head turning from one to the other as she followed the conversation. Since she didn’t seem inclined to add anything to the proceedings, Astrid kept her focus on the Helios.
“Then, what is it that you’re really trying to say?”
“One of my best friends is mated to a former elite. The other one is a former elite.”
She still didn’t get it. “Your point?”
“One is a scroll, the other a star, but neither female ever hid behind those marks. They damn sure wouldn’t hide behind another male’s brand.”
Astrid recoiled as if he’d physically struck her. “You have no right to say that to me.”
“Maybe not, but too fucking bad,” he countered without a hint of remorse or sympathy, “because you need to hear it, and I seem to be the only one willing to speak the truth.”
Fury flooded her veins, making it difficult to think straight, and tempered only by a small voice in the back of her mind that whispered he was right. She did hide behind the mating mark. She had as much as said so to Kylir on the journey there. She hid from strangers and acquaintances, commanders, and fellow officers. She hid from her family, would-be friends, and even Kylir.
Yet, the person she most hid from…was herself.
“Sion,” Rya chastised. “You shouldn’t speak so harshly.”
“I’m not being harsh. I’m being honest.” His whiskey-colored eyes bored into Astrid’s. “So, when you think about it, maybe things aren’t really that complicated after all.”
Rya sighed. “I think what my mate is trying to say, in his own way, is that if you love Kylir, that’s all that should matter.”
“What is it that you’re really afraid of?” Sion asked, proving he really did prefer to cut straight to the point.
Her ire cooled, replaced by shame and uncertainty. “I am scared. Terrified, really.”
“Because of what happened?” His gaze went to her mating mark again.
“Yes and no.” Grabbing her glass, she downed the contents before continuing. “He already knows what happened. It doesn’t matter to him.” It didn’t. Never once had he looked at her differently. She didn’t know if she would survive it if that ever changed. “But there are things he doesn’t know, because I don’t know them.”
The male’s smile looked a little too triumphant given the current topic of conversation. “Which are you more afraid of, Astrid? That Kylir will see those lost memories once you bond with him? Or that you will?”
She opened her mouth, intending to refute both claims, but what came out was, “Damn you.”
And damn his smug expression.
“You see this?” He traced the crescent-shaped scar that ran the length of his face. “I got it when my best friend tried to murder me while under the influence of the xili drug.” He smirked at her audible gasp. “I doubt you have anything hiding in your head worse than that.”
Suddenly, she saw him in a completely different light, a comrade of sorts. They’d both been through hell, and they’d both come out on the other side, scarred, but still breathing.
“And you’re still friends?” she asked, her voice controlled, measured. “You forgave him, even though he did that to you?”
“Yes,” he answered immediately, confidently, his eyes never leaving hers. “I forgave him, because I know it wasn’t his fault.”
“Unconditionally.” No doubt. No hesitation. “I trust Kylir more than anyone, including myself.”
Reaching across the table, the female covered Astrid’s hand with her own. “Then, trust him to share this burden.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
It had taken Kylir nearly two hours to run the system check on the shuttle and repair the damage to the navigation controls. He’d been surprised when the captain had arrived to help him, and even more astonished when he’d actually ended up liking the guy.
Neither of them had mentioned what had transpired at breakfast, but there was an unspoken understanding there. Garrik wouldn’t flirt with Astrid, and Kylir wouldn’t try to kill him.
“Miss Astrid has asked to begin her research.” Falling into step beside him, Garrik cupped his hand around his left ear, shielding the small device there from the wind. “Would you like me to take you to her?”
It was still early in the day with several hours of sunlight remaining. Knowing Astrid, she was already elbows-deep in test samples and calculations. She didn’t need his help, and he’d probably just get in the way, but he’d already been away from her for too long.
“Yes.” He jerked away from the captain and held up both hands. “We can walk there, right? No transporting?”
Garrik chuckled. “Transporting would be faster and more efficient, but yes, we can walk there.”
Ten minutes later, after navigating a vast, complex system of torchlit tunnels, they arrived in a circular room in the very center of the underground catacombs. Their footfalls echoed off the domed ceiling, and candlelight from the chandeliers illuminated the thousands of tiny jewels encased in the clay walls.
It was a magnificent room, but its beauty paled in comparison to the smile on Astrid’s face when she saw him. “You’re here!”
He caught her when she leapt at him, lifting her off her feet and spinning her in a circle. “Hello, my onye.” Lowering his head, he claimed her lips in a slow, tender kiss. “You missed me.”
