Chapter 5 #2
“But how did you board?” If there was a hole in her security, she needed to fix it.
“Dry off and change,” he commanded, ignoring her inquiry.
Vessa was just about to tell him what he could do instead of ordering her around, but before she could, he was out into the raging storm, his black armor disappearing.
But she could still feel him there. She closed her eyes at the sensation. It was a tether—like she, too, was connected to his battle armor. There was a time it had made her feel good. Had felt right.
It was like that before. They’d had a connection almost from the very start.
With just a little bit of focus, she could find him in a dense and tangled forest in the middle of combat.
It was some sense that was for him and him alone.
And, it seemed, it was still there. Not nearly as strong as it had been, but there all the same.
She stood frozen for a long moment. Did he feel it, too? That persistent tug, that reckoning?
Something long dead stirred inside her.
And it had teeth.
When she finally peeled the cold suit off herself, she didn’t linger on all the bruises and cuts that adorned her skin. She was used to having marred flesh. It was part of the job. And part of being a Seken warrior.
It took her longer than it should have to fully change. Being in clothes that were dry and having hair no longer wet and freezing improved her condition but not her dark mood. As far as she was concerned, Kedar could wait the entire night in the whiteout, except he had mentioned food.
“I’m finished,” she said.
Kedar appeared, stepping out from the blizzard unbothered, as if the winds and ice had no effect on him. Had he been standing just out of sight?
Had he been watching her?
Without a word, Kedar bent down to his pack and pulled out a hot stasis box. Her mouth watered immediately at the sight of the blackened strips of meat enclosed within.
“What is it?” she asked as her stomach cramped uncomfortably.
He tilted his head up to look at her. “Does it matter?”
“It does if it’s Orcru.”
“This is an insult,” he said, the offense evident. She’d heard that exact tone so often before that she almost laughed at the familiarity of it.
Food. She needed to eat. Everything else disappeared as she opened the stasis box and placed a steaming chunk of meat into her mouth. Gods. It was so damn good. Whatever it was, it was easy to chew and deliciously greasy. She moaned as she shoved another piece into her mouth. And another.
Kedar pulled dry, flat wood from his pack—asha planks that could keep a flame even in this environment. Those weren’t from her ship. Vessa watched him over her hands as she scarfed down the food. Using a pack of fire-hold gel, he had smokeless flames dancing between them within seconds.
Better than nothing, she supposed. And nothing was exactly what she would have if he hadn’t decided to hunt her down on this planet. The irony was glaring.
Even though her stomach was uncomfortably full, she finished the entire container. “Now what?” she asked before licking her fingers clean.
“Now water,” he said, and tossed her a hydration pack.
She swiped it out of the air, her body protesting the simple movement.
Deciding to play his game only because she was in need of everything he’d given her, she downed the hydration pack in three gulps.
It would replenish her and even sustain her for several days longer, but her body still yearned for the taste of water.
Tamping that craving down, she tilted her head expectantly. “Are you done being mysterious now? I know you didn’t come all the way out here to watch me change, eat, and drink.”
“Yet the way you devoured that food was like watching a starving vorg eat. I was most entertained,” he rumbled.
Pursing her lips, she picked up the warming blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Well, if that is all, I think I’ll sleep now, because I need that, too. Feel free to see yourself out. Or finish me off in my slumber. Either way, it’ll save me from suffering your company.”
“You think I’d kill you while you’re unarmed and recovering?” He seemed affronted by the mere thought.
Despite saving her—for whatever twisted game he was playing—the respect she once held for him had died the same night he should have.
Rage had replaced the crater he left behind, sitting within her chest like a second heart.
“I didn’t think you’d betray my people”—betray me, she really wanted to say—“but you did. Who knows what you would do these days?”
“Not that.”
“Hm,” she hummed, wholly unconvinced. “I’m not killing you right now because I desire sleep more, but just know, I trust your words less than I do a family of pit vipers with their tails knotted.”
Kedar pushed his shoulders back, his spine straightening. “I never lied to you.”
“Don’t,” she snapped, raising her hand. “I may be trapped here with you, but I refuse to have this conversation.”
“Then hear this. I’ve only had one purpose regarding you these last seven cycles. On my name, I—”
She threw her head back and laughed. “You’re challenging me?”
His hands flexed. “You should have killed me when you had the chance. Seven stars damn cycles I’ve hunted you. A death is owed, Vessa.”
It wasn’t a surprise. There were only two reasons a Xaal would hunt someone down: to kill them or because they were important to them. And she meant nothing to him. “We’ve fought once before. If I recall correctly, I was the victor.”
“But,” he said, the attempt at calmness evident in his tone, “you did not finish the fight.”
Vessa shrugged. Dying in combat was an honorable death for a Xaal. Being defeated and being allowed to live? She might as well have unmasked him and spat in his face.
He continued, “I was weak then, but I’m not anymore.”
He couldn’t be serious. It had been the hardest fight of her life.
No battle had ever challenged her like the one she’d had with him.
“I was there. Don’t insult me by claiming weakness.
You were the strongest Xaal of your clan, easily.
Even if you weren’t qon. A smart warrior, fierce. You insult us both to say otherwise.”
He tilted his head. “Not weak in body but in other ways.”
Even though it’d been a long time since they were comrades, she knew there was some unspoken complexity in his words.
There were many differences between her people and the Xaal, but as warriors, they shared some common ideals.
One of those being that true strength wasn’t only strength of the body.
A powerful warrior had mastery of themselves in all ways—body, mind, and heart.
Why he was claiming some deficiency now was beyond her.
But since he was so adamant about a rematch, she simply wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “It was a fair fight, you were a worthy opponent. I refuse to fight you again. It ended exactly how it needed to.”
He growled, and the sound was magnified in the enclosed space. “A challenge must end in death.”
“For Xaal,” Vessa snapped. “Not for Sekens.” She sat down near the fire, her chin raised defiantly.
“I will follow you for the rest of my life. I’ll never stop. You’ll never be rid of me.”
She knew he meant that with the entirety of his being. The words held all the weight of a dark vow. Fate wrapped frigid fingers around her throat. Past and present collided. He was right—she should have killed him when she had the chance.
“Fine. If you want to meet your stars, I’ll gladly usher you there.”
He inhaled and nodded. “No mercy. To the death”
“To the very bloody end.”