Page 92 of Interion

I opened my mouth to protest but was interrupted by something flying overhead. The creature descended from the clouds in free fall, then spread its wings as if testing their power. Dust billowed up all around us and pebbles rolled as Kiara landed in the center of the arena.

“Show-off.” Zion and I smiled at her, and the chimera hopped happily.

My eyes drifted back to the arena.

“So, what are we doing today?” I asked eagerly.

“Today you’re in charge of training. We’ll do whatever you want.”

He pulled off his shirt, already soaked with sweat from the scorching heat, and set it on a stone table next to the stands along with his gloves.

“Whatever I want?” I murmured, staring at his perfectly chiseled abs. If I did what my biology was urging me to do, Zion would run from me for the next three months. I shook my head, pushing the thought away. “Okay! Whatever I want.”

“Yes,” he said, his voice strange. I frowned, trying to read his tone, then he added before I could analyze further. “As long as it’s light—after all, you have a sonar test tomorrow and physical activity is discouraged.”

I nodded, remembering the message.

Despite it being autumn, the day still held onto summer’s warmth and the heat was intense. My skin felt sticky, and under my arms a horrible sweat stain was starting to form, so I used his tactic. I pulled off my shirt and stood there in the white sports bra I wore underneath—it helped a little with the heat. I looked at Zion, and his eyes were fixed on the small piece of clothing. A smug smile tugged at my lips.

“I want to stretch—my body is really stiff,” I said, walking toward him. “But we’re going to stretch my way.”

He shot me a sideways glance, probably mentally kicking himself for letting me choose.

“You’re the boss,” he replied, shaking his head.

Δ

“Is this payback for the training in the silent woods?”

We were almost done with the stretching session. I had stretched and pushed Zion to his limit. Now only one last set remained.

“I’m just stretching you in a different way. I’m not vindictive,” I replied, sitting down. He positioned himself behind me to push my torso toward the ground.

“Where did you learn to stretch like this? This feels like torture.” Zion pushed me forward, and I was pleased to discover my flexibility was still perfect.

“When I was little, I took dance classes.” I inhaled and exhaled calmly, touching my forehead to the ground. “I never danced again, but I like the stretching. It calms my mind and body.”

The minutes ended and I stood up. Zion watched me with furrowed brows, and I could almost see the gears turning in his head. I called him over for the final exercise, sitting down in front of a stone wall with my face nearly pressed against it. He followed, and I signaled for us to lie down facing the blue sky. He did the same beside me. I pressed my butt against the wall and raised my legs.

“Why do I have the feeling this is going to be worse than the last one?” he asked, gazing at the sky.

The sun was already sinking behind the wall, its shadow covering us and blocking the rays from hitting us directly.

“Because it is,” I joked, spreading my legs. “This move is called the ‘gravitational clock.’ You just open your legs as wide as you can and let gravity push them down. Ten minutes of this works wonders for flexibility.”

I showed him by opening my arms and stretching them out to my sides, as if waiting for a hug from the heavens. Reluctantly, he did the same. Our hands rested side by side, and I gazed at the devastatingly beautiful sky above our heads. Kiara played among the clouds up there, free as a bird. It made me realize I should let her out of the house more often—lately I hadn't been a good companion to her. I heard Zion clear his throat beside me and turned my head toward him.

“You said you took dance classes as a child. Can I ask how that came about? I thought you'd always been a Drutes prisoner.”

I looked at the sky and swallowed hard. A hard, bitter knot had formed in my throat. I knew it was because I had to think about the past—I'd never talked about it with anyone. I'd only shared a few fragments with Breno, Ambrose, and the psychologist. The thought of reopening this wound that had taken years to heal still made me nervous.

“How about we make a deal?” I asked with determination. “I'll tell you part of my life, and you tell me part of yours.”

“I already told you part of mine yesterday. Doesn't seem fair.”

“It's fair because you already know so much about me, and I know almost nothing about you. Besides, at the party I caught you spying on my mind through the bond—you definitely owe me one.”

“I don't know if I can answer your questions,” Zion said, avoiding my eyes. “Ask your question, and I'll see if I can answer. Then we'll make this deal.”