Chapter Thirty-Six
Mal
It was over. There would be no peace. The only way Ev and Mal could be together would be to leave everything behind.
Mal rubbed at his chest, his metal flesh giving him courage.
He was a Nethren, but his metal parts were rarely visible in public.
Dressed in Medean clothing, he could pass as one of them. That would make things easier.
Skirting around the groups of angry Nethren gathered everywhere, Mal quickly found the nicer barracks reserved for soldiers of higher rank.
They were empty, everyone needing to grumble and whine about the way Paradefense had just fucked them.
Mal ducked into a room and went straight to the closet.
Men's clothing hung on the racks, so at least he was in the right section of the barracks, but they were too big for him.
Damn. He hurried to the next room. That closet had things closer to his build.
He grabbed a large satchel from an overhead rack and filled it with clothing.
With that done, Mal hurried back to his barracks and stowed the bag under his bunk.
He removed the vidco Evellor had given him from its hiding place inside his mattress—via a slit he had cut in the fabric—and went to the bathroom.
After locking the door, he pushed the buttons to alert Ev of his vid. And waited.
“Come on, Ev, answer!” Mal paced, his heart racing.
Suddenly, the screen filled with Evellor's worried face. “Mal,” he whispered. “This is not a good time.”
“I know. But it is time.”
“What do you mean?”
“There won’t be peace, Ev. If you want to be with me, I have to get out tonight.”
“They'll be watching the fortress tonight.”
“They're always watching, but they mostly stick to the sides and front. If I timed it right, I could go over the back wall.”
“Mal, that sounds risky.”
“Just tell me. Do you want to do this? I understand if you've changed your mind.”
Evellor's expression hardened. “I am resolved. We're doing this.”
Mal's chest shivered with relief. “All right. I have a plan. I'll get out tonight. Wait for me at the back of the fortress at 1 AM. I've stolen some Medean clothes. If I keep my chest covered, do you think I can pass as Medean?”
Evellor blinked. “I hadn't thought of that. Yes! You absolutely can pass as a Medean. And that gives me an idea. I know where I can take you. I won't even have to abandon my leader.”
“What? Won't we have to hide?”
“Not as long as you keep your clothes on in public. I know it will be hard for you, but you'll manage it.” Evellor grinned. “I'll fly you to Thennis tonight and set you up in a house there. Then I'll have to come back until this siege is over. But after it's done, we can be together. Openly.”
“Do Medeans and Aethari, uh, do they . . .?”
“Marry?” Evellor smirked. “Not until my leader, Thaxvarien, bonded with his destra. He's made it possible for us to be together.”
“Holy shit! We can do this!” Mal chuckled. “I'm going to be a Medean.”
“I don't care what race you are, Mal. You're going to be mine.”
Mal's heart nearly burst with those words, leaving him gasping for breath. He'd never felt anything like it. When he figured out what his racing pulse, quick breath, and bright happiness added up to, he could barely believe it. But he could say it for the first time.
“Ev, I love you.”
Evellor gaped at him. “But you said that Nethren don't love.”
“I said that we couldn't love yet. I've changed, Ev. The surface, Lena Drask, and you have changed me.” Mal frowned. “Hold on. Are you saying that you would have run away with me, believing that I'd never love you?”
“Yes,” he whispered. “Don't ask me why. I just knew that you were the one who would make me happy. Only you.”
Mal grinned. “Does that mean you feel the same, warrior?”
Evellor chuckled softly. “Of course it does. I love you, Mal. And I'll see you later.”
“Later, lover.” Mal ended the vid, spun in a circle, and pumped his hand into the air. The emotions running rampant through his body were better than sex. He couldn't stop smiling as he left the bathroom.
But as Mal made his way through the corridors to the kitchens, his smile vanished, pushed down by the fury on the faces of his fellow soldiers.
There would be a lot of fighting before this was over.
A lot of blood. The people he knew might die while he pretended to be someone else.
But to feel the way he did with Evellor, Mal would walk away without a hint of guilt.
His friends could find their own winged warrior to love.
“Love,” Mal whispered. “Holy Tech, I'm in love.”