Chapter 19
TORVEN
Ihad to admit, the pain was bad. It ebbed and flowed, sometimes receding to a dull ache, and other times burning like a hot coal pressed through my skin, straight to the bone.
The Kythran ointment helped, though. Whatever it was—preserved lami or something like it—it kept the worst at bay.
What I really didn’t want was an infection.
What was worse than the pain, however, was how useless I currently was.
That was the thought that circled through my mind as I lay on a makeshift bed the Kythrans had assembled from their sleeping mats.
Useless to protect Zara. Useless to navigate.
Useless to do anything except lie here while the planet died around us.
Zara sat beside me, methodically checking the wound on my back for the fourth time that hour. Her hands were gentle but she clearly had no medical experience. “It’s looking better,” she said. “I think. No sign of infection.”
“That’s good.” My voice came out rougher than I’d intended, and I saw her wince.
“Does it hurt more? I can ask the Kythrans for more—”
“No.” I caught her hand, stopping her from standing. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You took an energy blast that should have killed you.” Her voice broke slightly on the last word. “You’re not fine at all.”
She wasn’t wrong. I’d never taken a direct blast at close range from an energy weapon before.
Thankfully the D’tran homemade weapons were much weaker than the high-damage models produced in the military sector.
If Dorek had fired one of those, it would have burned straight through me, and Zara, and scorched whatever was behind us.
I looked at her properly for the first time since she’d started checking my wound.
Her eyes were red-rimmed from crying or lack of sleep or both.
Her hair had come loose from its braid, and now it was a wild blond bush around her face.
She looked exhausted, defeated, and a little unhinged. And it was my fault.
“I’d do it again,” I said quietly. “Take the blast. To protect you. I’d do it every time.”
“That’s the problem.” She pulled her hand from mine and stood up, pacing away from me. “You shouldn’t have had to. I shouldn’t have put you in that position. I shouldn’t have—” She stopped, her shoulders hunching. “This whole thing was a mistake.”
“What whole thing?”
“Us. This bond. Everything.” She turned to look at me.
Again, there were tears streaming down her face.
“If you weren’t mated to me, you wouldn’t have jumped in front of that blast. You’d be fine.
You’d be able to protect yourself properly instead of being laid up with an injury that’s going to take weeks to heal and leave a scar. ”
Something cold settled in my chest. “You think the mating bond was a mistake.”
“I think it’s made everything more complicated.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “I can feel your pain through it. Did you know that? Every time you move wrong, every time you breathe too deeply, I feel it. And I can’t do anything about it except watch you suffer because of me.”
“It’s not because of you—”
“It is. Dorek fired at me. The blast was meant for me. You took it because of this bond that neither of us asked for or wanted.” Her voice was rising, tinged with hysteria.
“You didn’t even like me before this happened.
And now, because of some biological accident, you’re stuck with me for the rest of your life—and I know I’m not easy to be with.
” She aimed a narrow-eyed look at me that warned against argument, before barreling on.
“I’ve been made aware of that for most of my life.
So you’re trapped here, injured, we have no way forward, and I can’t fix any of it.
I can’t solve this problem. I can’t protect you.
I can’t do anything except make things worse. ”
I pushed myself up to sitting, ignoring the spike of pain that shot through my back. “Rivers—”
“Don’t.” She held up a hand. “Just don’t. I know what you’re going to say. That it’s not my fault, that you made your choice, that the bond is worth it. But is it? Really? Is it worth dying for?”
The question hung in the air between us, sharp and painful as any weapon.
I thought about my answer carefully. About what the bond had cost us, what it had demanded. The way it had put her in danger, the way it had made me reckless, the way it complicated every decision we made.
“Yes,” I said finally. “It is.”
“How can you say that?” She was crying openly now. “How can you say it’s worth it when you’re lying there injured and I’m standing here useless and everything is falling apart?”
“Because before I met you, I was already broken.” The words came out raw, honest in a way I’d never been with anyone.
“I’d lost my crew. Lost my faith in my ability to protect anyone.
I was going through the motions, but I wasn’t living.
Then you showed up with your equipment and your theories and your terrible habit of forgetting about safety protocols. ”
Despite everything, I saw her lips twitch slightly at that.
“You drove me crazy,” I continued. “You questioned everything, you overexplained everything, you brought too much equipment and talked too fast and got excited about atmospheric pressure differentials.” I paused.
“And you utterly fascinated me. It was all I could do to keep a respectable distance from you. Before we departed the Destran city, I assigned you to my escape pod—not because I thought for a million cycles we’d ever actually use it—but because if the ship sent out an automated drill alert, I’d be able to spend a little sanctioned time with you.
I wanted to be with you before these marks appeared on my neck.
You made me want to be better. Made me want to try again.
Made me believe that maybe I wasn’t too closed off and hardened to care about someone. ”
“Torven—”
“I’m not finished.” I struggled more upright, ignoring the protest from my injured back. “This bond didn’t make things complicated. It made things clear. For the first time in two cycles, I knew exactly what I was supposed to be doing. Keeping you safe. Supporting your work. Being your partner.”
“But you’re hurt—”
“And I’ll heal.” I reached for her hand, relief flooding through me when she let me take it.
“Zara Rivers, I’ve been hurt before. I’ll be hurt again.
That’s not what matters. What matters is that when that blast was coming toward you, I didn’t hesitate.
I didn’t think. I just moved. And that’s what the bond does.
It doesn’t make us weak. It makes us strong enough to do impossible things. ”
She was quiet for a long moment, staring at our joined hands.
“I feel like I’m drowning,” she whispered.
“Like everything I thought I could do, everything I thought I was good at, it doesn’t matter.
My equipment is destroyed. The systems are too complex.
The species won’t cooperate. And I—I can’t fix it. ”
“You’re not supposed to fix it alone.”
“But that’s what I do. I solve problems, and yes, I like having a team. But Maya and Cleo have their own specialties and we each tended to our own parts of whatever puzzle we were assigned to. I analyze data and find solutions and—”
“And now you have to do it differently.” I squeezed her hand. “Not alone. We’re not as smart as you, but we are your team and we need you to lead this part. Separately, we are weak, but working together, we can make this work.”
She sniffled, but the tears had stopped. “Awful philosophical for someone who’s been shot with an energy weapon.”
“The pain makes me deep.” I smiled slightly. “Also, I might be a little delirious from whatever the Kythrans gave me.”
She laughed, the sound wet with tears but genuine. “I don’t deserve you, Torven Korvath.”
“You’re right,” I said, wiping away tear streaks with my thumb. “You deserve better.”
She wiped at her eyes. “Don’t say that.”
“Why? It’s true.”
Before she could respond, one of the Kythrans approached. It was the eldest one, the one who’d spoken for the group earlier. He moved slowly, cautiously. He was either in pain from the fight, or was still expecting violence despite Vikkat’s promise of peace.
Zara switched to their language, the words flowing out in that complex tonal pattern I couldn’t follow. The Kythran responded, gesturing toward me, and I caught Zara’s look of surprise.
“What?” I asked.
“They want to examine you. Your injuries, specifically.” She hesitated. “They say they’ve never seen a Destran before. Never seen the marks up close and they’re too afraid to ask any of the D’tran. They’re curious about your biology.
I glanced at the Kythran elder, who was watching me with dark, curious eyes. There was no ill will in his expression, just intense scientific interest that reminded me of Zara when she got excited about weather patterns.
“Tell them yes,” I said. “If it helps build trust between our species, they can examine whatever they want.”
Zara translated, and the Kythran’s entire posture changed. He straightened slightly, some of the fear leaving his frame, replaced by what could only be described as academic enthusiasm.
The examination was surprisingly gentle. The Kythran’s hands were cool and dry as he traced the edges of my injury, making small sounds that Zara translated as notes about healing rates and tissue damage. But when his fingers touched the mating marks on my neck, everything changed.
The marks flared. I felt a sudden warmth and a tingling sensation that spread from where the Kythran’s skin met mine. It felt as if the marks themselves shifted, moved like a slithering reptile under my skin.
“What the—” I started and slapped at the Kythran’s hand.
The Kythran jerked back as if burned, speaking rapidly to Zara.