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Gardens were tainted for her, now. Potted poinsettias shared the open-air green space, along with petunias, snapdragons, and pansies. They were exquisite, and she didn’t want to look at them. She’d always loved flowers. Currently, they just reminded her of fear and stalking.

Copenhagen, Denmark.

Sydney, Australia.

Shit! Her calming mantra of cities wasn’t working, because now all she could picture was Kahn visiting them with her. Before, she’d been searching for a place to belong. Now she had one. Visiting the human cities would be fun, but none of them would ever be home.

Home was with the Light Phases. Home was Kahn.

Randa took a deep breath, forcing herself to see through her fight-or-flight panic. What was she doing? Aimlessly running through Mayport Beach was not a healthy coping mechanism.

She’d promised Kahn better communication. Instead, she was standing alone in the rain. Did she even want to be alone? No. She wanted to talk to someone, and the only someone she wanted to talk to was her Match.

Blinking back tears, she fished out her smartphone. What did you see? She texted him.

You as a little girl. You and your grandmother talking about being a proper lady. You and Hekktor playing cards. You and Isaacs in the Air House dungeon.

That’s it? I don’t want you to see what Parald did.

I didn’t see that, sweetheart. Even if I had, you’d have nothing to feel ashamed of.

It would make you think I’m weak and I’m NOT.

I know you’re not. I’m your Match. I think you’re perfect.

I don’t want pity.

I have 8000000 emotions for you, but that’s not one of them. You did nothing wrong. You know that. It was all him.

Randa’s brows drew together. She did know that. This reaction was based in trauma and not logic. She’d worked on her feelings with Dr. Ashley. She knew that blaming herself was damaging and unproductive. Parald was the only one responsible.

And he was dead.

She was glad he was dead, because he’d never hurt or rape or kill anyone else. Randa drew in a deep breath, forcing herself to be present. To use her senses and ground her body in her current environment.

The rain was wet. She could feel it and taste it on her lips. She could smell the scent of the flowers. She could see the orbs of lights and streaks of colors from the glowing lanterns reflecting off the puddles. She could hear the ocean in the distance.

She was safe. The past was gone. She was here now.

With Kahn.

You’re right. She finally texted.

You’re admitting I’m right? Maybe you DID have wine with dinner.

Against all odds, Randa’s mouth quirked upward. I can admit when you’re right. You just almost never are. So what kind of 8000000 emotions do you feel towards me?

Hopefully, they were some of the nicer ones.

Consider what you feel for me, then crank down the annoyance and crank up the obsession. I’ll bet that’s a fair approximation of my emotions towards you. We’re a Match. So our feelings will match.

Randa stared at the phone, reading and rereading the message. Raindrops landed on the screen, creating magnified dots. They seemed to punctuate Kahn’s words.

Matches were made for each other. Literally. The intense pull she felt towards Kahn would therefore be balanced out by his push towards her. That was the way a Phase-Match worked. According to everything from scientific research to religious doctrine to romantic poetry, Randa didn’t have to worry that she was falling in too deep with Kahn. He was getting swept under, too.

…But she was still worried.

My parents were a Match who didn’t match. They hated each other.