He slowly drops his hand. “You cannot hurt me.”
“Oh, but I can, and you’re a fool if you think otherwise.” I grasp his hand in my free one. “I love you, Azmar, but you will sacrifice nothing for this. Though I am honored you would consider it.”
His other hand slides beneath my knee and pulls me forward so he can kiss me again. This time it’s less sweet and more distressed, harder, demanding. He may think me small, but I don’t cow to him. The bloodstone bites into my palm, and I battle with him, warmth building deep in my core. My soul sings to him in a way that is both enthralling and terrifying.
I don’t know how to read this, Calia, the Cosmodian once said.
But I can. All the stars and planets have aligned, my broken road mends, and the way is clear and straight before me. Wholly unexpected, the reading said.
The Cosmodian wasn’t wrong.
Azmar breaks away, and we both gasp for breath. Slowly, finger by finger, he releases my leg. Finger by finger, I ease my grip on his bloodstone. I will cherish it like I’ve never cherished anything else.
“I’m late,” he growls, but his frustration isn’t with me. Standing, he jerks on the ropes of his hair. Walks halfway across the room, pauses, and turns back to me. He looks angry and sad at the same time, and it’s like a needle piercing my heart. “Be careful, Lark.”
We watch each other for a moment more, reading and studying and questioning, before he grabs the sheaf of papers off the counter and leaves, shutting the door behind him with a force that reminds me of his sister.
Opening my hand, now covered in red marks, I cradle the bloodstone, memorizing its every facet. It’s beautiful, and I wonder if Azmar crafted the setting himself. But I cannot wear it. How would I explain, if anyone, even Ritha or Perg, were to find this on me? What believable story could I offer?
Because I can hurt Azmar. He’s essentially handed me the weapon with which to do it. And so while I wish I could pin this emblem to my breast and wear it with pride, I slip it inside my shirt, under my breast bindings and over my heart, and quickly ready myself for the day. I cannot let these adventures, wonderful as they are, disrupt my normal schedule. I need to be at Unach’s apartment and then the south docks, fulfilling my responsibilities. But first, I will hide this, somewhere safe, where no one else can find it. It will be difficult—I have so little space to claim as my own. But I will protect it with all I have.
More difficult will be hiding the elation that I’m sure radiates from every inch of my skin, because despite all the fear tied to this promise, I have never been happier.
“They won’t mobilize all of you?” I ask Unach as we take the sloping road down between military storage and food storage. It’s the third hour, time for the shift change, and bodies crowd the way.
“Not until further threat.” She shifts her jaw to one side and pops it. She has a gruff edge to her voice, like she’s still angry, but getting tired of being angry. At this rate, she’ll be on speaking terms with Azmar again by next week. “Until then, we go by ticket, and mine’s up soon. I’m looking forward to fighting something on level ground for once.”
“But you haven’t found the attackers.” I think of Tayler. If he comes scouting again, his band might be put to blame. I fear for him. Our meeting time nears, and I have no way to warn him of the extra trollis scouts. If it’s only him, hopefully he can pass under their watch, just as I’ll have to. I promised him I would come alone, without even Azmar, and I am still working out how to accomplish that.
Unach sticks out her broad chest. “And what if I do?”
I shrug. “Of course I don’t want war, Unach. But if you have to defend yourself, it doesn’t matter if they’re humans, aerolass, or merdans, in the end.”
My answer pleases her.
A passing trollis shoves into my side, sending me sprawling into Unach. She rights me with one strong arm. Then swings around so quickly I question if I ever fell.
She grabs the trollis by the collar and shoves him against the stone wall. “You’d better watch where you’re going, Intra.”
The Intra gapes, confused, his charcoal eyes flicking between Unach and myself. “She’s human!”
“She’s my human.” Unach jerks the trollis forward and releases his collar. Frowning, he adjusts his clothes and merges back into the crowd.
I can’t help but smile as Unach continues down to the dock as though she didn’t just blatantly defend my honor. I don’t say anything, of course. If Unach hates anything, it’s feelings.