“We prepare,” he said grimly. “And we hope that perhaps this stranger is telling the truth about helping us.”
“You don’t trust him.”
“I trust very few people. But his information aligns with my concerns.” He kissed her temple. “I will not let them take our family, s’kara. I will die before I allow that to happen.”
“Please don’t die,” she said, her voice shaky. “I need you. The children need you.”
“Then I will not die. I will fight. And I will keep you safe.” He cupped her face, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Do you trust me?”
“With my life.”
“Then trust that I will find a way through this.”
She kissed him, trying to pour every ounce of faith and love into the gesture. Trying to believe that trust would be enough. But as the next two hours dragged by she couldn’t shake the feeling that their perfect little life was about to shatter.
And there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to stop it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Selik stood at the window, his attention focused on the street outside. Two hours since they’d returned from the market. Two hours of checking weapons he’d hidden throughout the house. Two hours of running through scenarios and escape routes and calculating how long it would take the Council’s forces to reach them if they’d somehow tracked Corinne’s encounter with Taranov.
Behind him, he could hear her putting Mikoz down for his nap. Her voice was soft and soothing, singing one of her Earth songs, and the normalcy of it made his chest ache.
I should have been more careful. I should have anticipated this. I should have moved us somewhere more remote.
The list of his failures grew with each passing moment.
She appeared in the doorway, arms crossed. “How long are you going to stand there?”
“Until I am certain we are safe.”
“And when will that be exactly? Next week? Next year? Never?”
He didn’t answer, couldn’t, because she was right—there would be no moment of certainty. No clear all-clear signal. Just endless vigilance and the weight of knowing that any moment could bring disaster.
She crossed to him, her footsteps soft on the wooden floor. “Talk to me.”
“I am considering our options.”
“Which are?”
“Limited.” He kept his eyes on the street. “We could flee again. Take the ship and find another world. Somewhere more remote and less populated.”
“We just built a life here.”
“A life means nothing if you are not alive to live it.”
“Selik—”
“I will not take chances with your safety. With any of your safety.”
“So we run. Again. And when they find us there, we run again. And again. Until what? Until we’re living in a cave somewhere eating rations and jumping at shadows?”
“If that is what it takes to keep you safe, yes.”
She made a frustrated sound. “That’s not living. That’s existing. And I didn’t survive captivity and escape just to spend the rest of my life hiding.”
“Better hiding than dead.”
