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“Do not worry, my Lucas,” I whispered. “I will fill you again.”
He whimpered, squirming close even in the heat of night. I pulled the cool spikdari silks over us both, wanting to protect his fragile body and keep him just for myself.
In the morning, I woke with dual hungers—one for my Lucas, and one for, well, food.
Lucas was still sleeping soundly, and he needed the rest. I’d watched him shudder with overwhelm the night before. He had more than earned his rest.
I slipped out of bed, dragging the silks around his shoulders so he would not feel exposed. “I will return soon, little star shine.”
Even when I pressed a kiss to his temple, he barely stirred, only whimpering to be left alone for five mere minutes.
All the more reason to be quick.
The kitchens were not far. I could have called for a servant, but Thorzi warriors provided for themselves. I thrilled to be able to provide for Lucas as well, even if I had not cooked the meat or picked the fruit on the platter I piled high from the kitchens’ offerings.
With the plate balanced on one hand, I wandered out into the colonnade and looked across the courtyard. Just there in the rooms she shared with Father, my mother would be taking her first meal.
I longed to tell her of the spark I had felt. That flooding warmth and sense of rightness—what could it be but love?
I carried my plate past columns and when I touched my free hand to the panel outside her door, it slid open.
She was not at her usual breakfast table, not in the bed she shared with my father. But I heard voices. There, across the room, through gauzy silk curtains, my parents stood in the morning light on their balcony.
“He will lose himself,” my father said quietly. “He will lose our throne.”
His, and mine.
My father’s line had protected armies with the star-mark forcefield and the gift of mages, a mark we had in common. But mages were gone, and the only thing that tied our line to the throne was tradition. My father had never had a mage, and ruled merely by his powerful Thorzi lineage, and his own ability on the battlefield.
But by being what I was, half human, I broke that tradition. I made us vulnerable.
But what hurt worse than my father’s doubt were my mother’s soft sigh and the words that followed.
“Don’t twist yourself up over Lucas, my love.” Through the curtains, I watched her press herself into his arms, lean into him with a smile. “He is human. Your way is not ours. We’re curious. We like to try new things. We don’t just see something we want and cling to it. Just because he’s interested in Kaelum now does not mean he’d choose our son over returning to his home. We all miss Earth, and if it weren’t for your persistence, I’d have gone back too.”
My father’s arms wrapped around her waist, and he buried his lips against her long hair, nuzzling toward her ear. “Rochelle, sweetest star, it did take me many moons to catch your eye.”
A sharp pain lanced through my chest. Iwantedthat—that closeness and acceptance.
At once, fear crawled up my throat. Lucas had given himself to me, had sighed with pleasure and smiled and reached for me in the night.
I did not believe that I misunderstood him, that his ways were not my own. He had not allowed me into his sweet, surrendering body lightly. My mother had said humans took “vacations” to see the ocean, a brief respite from their usual lives. This... this was not that. Not to my Lucas.
Was it?
A huff of a breath like I had been hit in the chest—that was all it took from me for my father to tense on the balcony. A second later, he pushed the curtains aside, glaring narrowed, bright blue eyes down at the intruder.
At me.
Almost immediately, his face softened into an emotionless mask. I shifted the plate I carried into both hands, only to keep busy and hide my nervousness.
“Xyren?” My mother asked, peeking around him. She was not a warrior, her senses not as ready to pick up a threat. Her warm gaze settled on me, and how did that make me feel worse?
I felt my expression shift, sadness tightening my cheeks, crinkling my eyes, and I was helpless to stop it.
In three steps, she was in front of me, touching my face with a soothing stroke.
“Oh, Kaelum—” My mother frowned, her brows pulling down together tightly. Her face flushed. She was embarrassed that I had heard them.
