It wasn’t a question, but he answered anyway.
“Yes.”
Tarak set his staff aside and moved to the water dispenser in the corner. He filled two containers and handed one to Selik. “Tell me.”
He drank deeply, using the pause to organize his thoughts. How could he explain something he barely understood himself?
“She is fierce and determined and protective. But it is more than that. When I touch her, I feel…”
“Feel what?”
“Everything,” he said roughly. “I feel everything. My tail responds to her presence. My body responds to her scent. When I kissed her?—”
“You kissed her?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“And it was… intense. More intense than anything I have felt since…” He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.
“Since Kessa,” Tarak said gently.
“Yes.”Perhaps even more so.“But it should not be possible. She is human. I am Cire. There can be no true bond between us.”
“Can’t there?” Tarak’s expression turned thoughtful. “There have been rumors of other warriors finding their mates in unlikely places.”
“Rumors. Not facts.”
“Or perhaps facts that have been suppressed.” Tarak leaned against the wall, his tail flicking back and forth. “The Council sees only one possibility. Perhaps there are others. Or perhaps your body is just smarter than your brain.”
Despite everything, his mouth twitched with amusement. “You think my body knows something I do not?”
“I think you’ve been dead inside for twenty years, and this female made you feel alive again. That is worth exploring.”
“Even if it is impossible?”
“Especially if it is impossible.” Tarak’s expression turned serious. “You deserve happiness, Selik. Kessa would want that for you.”
The words echoed his earlier thoughts so precisely that he had to look away.
“She would have loved Mikoz,” he said quietly. “She would have taken him in without question.”
“So why are you questioning it?”
“Because I failed her. Failed Lira. I was not there when they needed me most.”
“You were following orders and doing your duty.” Tarak’s voice hardened. “The Red Death killed them, not you.”
“I should have been there.”
“To die with them? Would that have been better?”
The blunt question made him flinch. He’d asked himself the same thing countless times over the years. Would it have been better to burn alongside his family rather than survive alone?
“No,” he finally admitted. “But I should have done something. Anything.”
“You are doing something.” Tarak pushed off the wall. “You are considering giving an orphaned infant a home. Giving him a chance at the life Lira never got to have. If that is not honoring her memory, I do not know what is.”
