“I do.”
“How? After everything?”
It was the same question Tess had asked before, in different words.Is he your owner? Why do you sleep with him? What is he?She had fumbled the answers then. She didn’t want to fumble them now.
“Because he’s always been there for me, whenever I needed him.” She thought of the previous night, and their fight and the way he’d apologized immediately when she’d pointed out what he was doing wrong. “And when he makes mistakes, he admits them. He doesn’t defend or deflect or blame. He just… changes.”
“That’s rare.”
“It is.” She looked over at the other woman. “That’s how you know, Tess. Not by whether they’re perfect. By whether they can be wrong and still be safe. By whether they care more about being right or being good.”
Tess was quiet for a long time after that. Then, slowly, she nodded.
“I’m going to Sherae,” she said. “Not yet. Not until I’m stronger. But I’m going to go. I’m going to try.”
“That’s brave.”
“It’s terrifying.”
“Same thing.”
Tess gave her rusty laugh. “Yeah,” she said. “I’m starting to figure that out.”
She thought about those words all the way back to their quarters.
He was there, as she’d suspected he would be—standing by the fire, his back to the entrance, the massive breadth of him silhouetted against the flames. He turned when he heard her footsteps, and she could see both hope and caution on his face, all tangled together.
“I wasn’t certain you would come back.”
“I came.”
“I’m glad.”
She crossed the cave to stand in front of him. Looking up, always looking up—he was so much larger than her, this warrior who’d gentled himself for her sake, who practiced patience when everything in him probably wanted to act. She put her hand on his chest, over his heart, the way she had last night.
“I want to tell you something,” she said.
“I’m listening.”
“I’ve been sleeping in your bed for months. But I’ve been… sneaking in. Coming in after you’re asleep. Leaving before youwake up. Treating it like something shameful, something I shouldn’t be caught doing.” She took a breath. “I don’t want to do that anymore.”
His hand came up to cover hers. “What do you want?”
“I want to share your bed. Not secretly. Not like I’m stealing something. Openly. Because I choose to. Because—” Her voice caught. She steadied it. “Because you’re not just the male who protects me, Njkall. You’re the male I want to wake up next to.”
The caution on his face melted away, leaving only the hope—bright and raw and terrifying in its intensity.
“You’re certain,” he said. It wasn’t quite a question.
“I’m terrified,” she corrected. “But I’m choosing anyway. That’s what brave is, right? Choosing even when you’re scared.”
His laugh rumbled through his chest, through her hand, into her bones. “That is exactly what brave is.”
He pulled her close then, wrapping his arms around her, and she let herself sink into the warmth and solidity of him. Her cheek pressed against his chest. His chin rested on top of her head. They fit together like this, despite the absurdity of their size difference. They always had.
“Stay tonight,” he murmured into her hair.
“I will.”
