Despite the churning in his gut at how badly he had botched the situation, he forced himself to hold her gaze. Silently, she crossed the room. She stopped inches away, and time hung suspended between them as he waited for her to break the silence.
“I am not Lysa.”
Zane’s breath hitched.
Emotions swirled in Kalie’s hard, glittering eyes—a dark glint of anger, the watery gloss of grief, the wounded look of betrayal. “Forcing me to stay here won’t bring her back. But if you force me to break my oath to you, if you force me to damn my aunt’s soul, I will never forgive you.”
“You wouldn’t go,” Zane whispered, gaping at her. She stared at him with unwavering conviction, and terror twisted his heart. “You wouldn’t, not with her soul at stake.”
“Watch me.”
Her ponytail swished as she spun on her heel and stormed out of the room.
Mira watched Kalie go, and as her jaw tightened, she stomped towards Zane. He braced himself for a scathing lecture—then her palm cracked against his cheek. Rage lit in his chest, and he lurched forward, but his rage died as he remembered the look on Kalie’s face.
He deserved it.
Mira stepped back, breathing heavily. “You’re being an idiot.”
“I’m trying to protect her!”
“By making her think she’s damning her aunt’s soul? We both know all that stuff about gods and heavens is bullshit, but she believes it.” Mira stared at the dusty gray tiles. “You’ve hurt a lot of people, Zane, but I won’t let you hurt her.”
“I’m trying to protect her,” he repeated, but there was no heat in his voice.
With a sound of disgust, Mira turned her back on him. “I’m so sick of your way of protecting people.”
She strode out the door.
Muttering a curse, Zane slouched on a dusty wooden crate, kicking aside a dirty tarp. His chrono chimed, a reminder that the fleets were launching in a quarter of an hour. It was bad enough that Mira was going, but at least she could fight. Probably better than he could.
Kalie had no business on a battleship, coming that close to death.
Zane sighed.
Come hell or high water, she would be with the fleet. Mira was right—he couldn’t torment her with that ultimatum. He could demand for her to stay on the ship, but she wouldn’t take that any better than his demand for her to stay behind.
But there was one other option.
His stomach twisted into knots. She would never approve; he’d known that all along. But if she was set on going with the fleet, and things went south…
Zane took a deep, steadying breath and pushed himself to his feet.
He had one last card to play.
Dali, Sector 4
Undecemmensis-22, 817 cycles A.F.C.
The bridgeof the Aquisian armada’s flagship, theNeptune, was eerily silent as it hurled towards the end of the stargate route. Swallowing her rising panic, Kalie wiped the sweat from her brow. They were as prepared as they could reasonably be. Weapons were operational, communications were open with the other Aquisian fleets, and calculations were made for an emergency jump out of Dalian airspace.
But the last time she’d stood on the bridge of a flagship was the day Ariah died.
Screams rang in her memory, and she flinched, pushing away all thoughts of that night.
“Incoming message from the scout shipArtemis, sir.” The voice came from the pit where the communications officers were stationed.
Nadar, seated in the commander’s chair in the middle of the catwalk, flicked his webbed hand. “Put it through.”
