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All I had to do was stop fearing that that very strength would steal Wesley from me.
On the journey home, Lucas and Wesley insisted on trying out all of our marks. Some, it seemed, only worked when they were in contact with our marks—the tactician’s mark, Kaelum’s forcefield, and the like. But there were a few—my claws and armor marks, the light I could summon from my fingertips, Kaelum’s plasma sword—that they could control away from us.
It took a touch and some effort, but they could step away, maintain the weapons or the gifts for a minute or two, and defend themselves.
“I think that’s plenty,” I said, when Wesley’s breath started coming in sharp gasps. Admittedly, it could be because he and Pob were sparring and not because he kept hopping to my side, brushing a hand over my marks, and jumping right back into the fight.
Wesley scowled at me, but Kaelum understood. “Why don’t you try,” he suggested to Lucas.
Before Wesley could get too sharp with me, I sat by Marex’s side on the bridge. He had brought a small number of Zathki with him—Pob and a young scientist named Lore stayed with us on the bridge, but the rest kept their distance as much as they could.
The closer we got to Thorzan, the more Marex’s shoulders crept up toward his ears.
“You are worried,” I muttered as I took my place beside him.
Never would I have guessed I would one day be flying toward Thorzan in the amicable company of my enemy, but here we were.
And I would do well to stop thinking of him as my enemy. He was Zathki. Nothing more.
“Much rides on our meeting with King Xyren,” he said, avoiding my eyes.
I could not honestly tell him he had no reason to be afraid. For all our lives, Kaelum’s father had gone out of his way to dismiss him, to doubt him. All because his human blood made him smaller and weaker than true-born Thorzi warriors.
Kaelum had a hope now that things were changing for the better, but I did not know that change would allow Xyren to overlook generations of conflict and hear out his son.
“And your people might swarm us and tear us to pieces before we have a chance to make our case,” Marex griped, a wry humor pulling at his lips.
I scoffed. “You saved our lives.”
Marex stared up at me, his bright eyes wide and unblinking, like he was unsure what that changed.
“So”—I clapped him on the knee—“I will protect yours. Stay close to me, Scientist Marex. I am one of the greatest warriors on all Thorzan.”
“One of?” His lips quirked up further.
I scowled at him. “What?”
“I simply did not expect you to be so pragmatic. I thought you’d boast. Jax son of Zul, greatest warrior in all the jungle.” His voice took on a low, booming quality that would have pleased any Thorzi.
With a grin, I shook his knee. “A warrior must know his limitations, Marex. Anyway, you need not fear King Xyren. He has his own issues with Crux. He will be glad to see reason when we show it to him.”
Marex grimaced. “I have heard the king is brutal and thickheaded.”
“You think all Thorzi are brutal and thickheaded,” I accused.
He gave me a skeptical glance, as if nothing he had seen from me proved him wrong. But I could tell from the glimmer in his eyes, the cockiness of his smirk, that he was teasing me.
I bumped into his shoulder with my own. “Ah, that is the problem with being too clever. You worry too much. Bad for digestion. Try to relax. We will be there soon.”
When we crossed into Thorzan’s atmosphere, I came to stand behind Wesley. He was at the screen, watching our descent. When my hands settled on his shoulders, he leaned back against me with a sigh.
“Are you pleased to be home?” I leaned in so my words tickled his ear, gratified to feel the warmth of his blush against my cheek.
“You know, I’ve never actually seen your home. Like, where you sleep. And live and stuff.”
I blinked. Somehow, I hadn’t thought of that. But all Wesley had seen of Thorzan was Crux’s laboratory. Perhaps he had passed briefly through the palace, but that was not at all the same as taking him to my chambers, showering him with all the delights I could provide.
All we had between us was our time on Zathkar, cold and afraid, but together. It was incomprehensible that there was any part of what was mine that he did not know and claim, that did not now belong to him.
