Page 19 of Bite for Sore Eyes

"Wait here while I go get our sandwiches and drinks."

She nodded, watching him disappear toward the kitchen with the same purposeful stride that seemed to characterize everything he did. The dark jeans and navy henley molded to his powerful frame, and she found herself appreciating the view until he vanished around the corner.

Focus, she told herself. You have important things to discuss with him.

But her body hummed with awareness anyway, responding to his presence in ways that felt both foreign and utterly natural. The mate thing seemed to be more than just a romantic concept—it was a physical reality that made every nerve ending sing when he was near.

When Rath returned with the now-loaded backpack settled across his broad shoulders, he held the front door open for her with old-fashioned courtesy. Then they descended the stone steps together and followed a pathway that led away from the castle toward a forest of those distinctly purple trees she'd admired from her window.

The twin moons hung high overhead, casting everything in silver and shadow, and Lana felt her breath catch at the alien beauty of it all. Two moons instead of one—such a simple difference, yet it drove home the reality that she was walking on another world entirely.

"The overlook isn't too far," Rath said, pulling a flashlight from his pocket as they entered the tree line. "The hike is maybe a mile."

He stayed close to her side, near enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from his body, but he didn't hover or treat her like she might collapse at any moment. The respect in that gesture gave her the courage to voice what she'd been rehearsing since lunch.

"Great, that will give us time for me to explain something important."

She caught the immediate tension that rippled through his frame, but his voice remained calm. "What do you need to explain?"

"About that episode at lunch today. It wasn't because I was overwhelmed. It was from my illness."

The words hung in the night air between them, and she forced herself to continue before she lost her nerve.

"I'm sick, Rath. I'm dying from a rare neurological disorder called progressive neural synchronization disorder. I was diagnosed two years ago, and my dad and I explored and exhausted every treatment and procedure available. Nothing treated it effectively, and there is no cure—well, at least not on Earth. And two days ago, my doctor told me that I only have approximately a year to live, as my brain will eventually misfire in a way that will cause my body's autonomic functions to fail."

Rath had gone very still beside her, and when she glanced at his profile in the moonlight, she saw the color had drained from his face. The careful control he wore like armor seemed to crack, revealing the raw fear and determination beneath.

"We need to get you to our medical facility immediately. See if they can treat you here the way Earth couldn't."

And there it is, she thought. The exact reaction I was dreading.

She resumed walking and he immediately followed, the path growing steeper and the purple trees giving way to rocky outcroppings that caught and reflected the moonlight. Her breathing remained steady despite the incline—hiking had always been her sanctuary—and her body responded to the familiar rhythm even as her heart raced from the conversation.

"I know you care about me and want to help me, and I appreciate it very much. But I can't spend the rest of my days in a medical facility, in another hospital bed, not living my life fully. That's why I came here—for one final adventure. To live boldly."

She could see the internal battle playing out across his features as they crested the final steep section and emerged onto a rocky overlook that took her breath away. The vast pink ocean stretched to the horizon, its surface painted silver by the twin moons' reflection. The alien beauty of it struck her unexpectedly hard—so different from anything Earth had to offer, so impossibly magical that it seemed like something from a dream. But she was more concerned about Rath's next response than admiring the view.

He stopped beside her at the edge of the overlook, then grabbed her hands to turn her to face him fully. The moonlight carved sharp angles across his rugged features, highlighting the struggle between his protective instincts and his respect for her autonomy.

"Lana, I give you my word that I will respect your decision about your illness and let you choose every day how you want to live. And I will do everything in my power to give you that adventure you want."

Relief flooded through her so suddenly that her knees nearly buckled. "Thank you."

But as she looked up into his green eyes, something shifted between them. The careful distance they'd been maintaining dissolved, replaced by a magnetic pull that felt as inevitable as gravity itself. She found herself drawn closer to him, to the protection and trust and raw honesty he offered.

Without conscious thought, she rose on her toes and kissed him. The contact started soft, tentative, a question more than a statement. But within seconds, something ignited between them that felt like recognition on a soul level. Her body sang with joy and every nerve ending suddenly came alive with sensation as the kiss deepened and blazed into something desperate and hungry.

This, she thought, her hands fisting in the fabric of his henley as he pulled her closer. This is what I came here for.

If this was truly her last year alive, she wanted to spend it feeling exactly like this—fully herself, fully alive, and fully desired by this incredible man who made her forget she was dying.

EIGHT

TORREN

Torren stared at the data streams flowing across his monitors, but the numbers and diagnostics had long since lost their meaning. His thoughts remained fixed on lunch—on Lana's sandwich slipping from her grasp, the color draining from her face, and the controlled breaths she'd taken afterward, as though she already knew exactly how to survive whatever had overtaken her.

Something's wrong with her, his bear insisted. And she's not telling us what.