Chapter 8
Lindsey
“Are we going to talk about what just happened?” Devon asks once we’ve left the market square.
No matter how much I love her, I wish she hadn’t witnessed that whole exchange with Bannik. Apparently, she gets a front-row seat to all my humiliating interactions with guys on this planet. I shrug. “There isn’t much to talk about.”
She barks a laugh. “Do you really expect me to believe that after what I just saw?”
I toss my hands up. “What do you want me to say, Devon? I’m suddenly the heart’s fire of a guy who not so long ago was extremely interested in one of my friends, but who also happens to have been a rebel intent on overthrowing Alik.”
“Janik used to lead those exact same rebels, and he and Olivia are ridiculously in love.”
I side-eye her. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t Janik’s intention to kill close to seventy of his people. It was Mohneek’s, her lover’s, and those loyal to them.”
Devon winces. “You don’t know for sure Bannik was one of those who actually did any of that. You know Mohneek and Orvak tricked nearly all of them.”
Logically, I do know that, but there’s a part of me that can’t reconcile the fact. Anytime I try, I keep picturing those dead bodies sprawled out on the streets of Preska and the other dead body from so long ago.
“The not knowing for sure is why there’s nothing to talk about. Because nothing happened, nor can it.”
Devon’s look of pity punches me in the gut. “I’m sorry.”
So am I. “Let’s talk about something else. Please?”
She nods. “Janik and Olivia are going to finally see Vornak later today at the clinic for his blood and DNA tests.”
“Really?”
“It’s inevitable, especially with what’s happened to Alik. They both figure it’s time to stop ignoring reality. If Janik really is the rightful heir to the throne, then the whole dynamic of the planet is going to change.”
It’s still so wild to think that after today we’ll all know if Janik is truly the firstborn of Queen Veroneek and King Danik. Which means he’ll not only be a prince, but Olivia will be a princess. She’s already joked about making us all curtsy to her anytime she enters a room.
“Do you think he is the queen’s son?” Because I do.
“Yeah, I do,” Devon answers. “You should have bought that plant before storming off.”
I startle at the abrupt switch in topics, considering it’s far too close to the previous one that I have no interest in continuing.
“We both know I didn’t need it.”
She snorts. “Since when has that stopped you?”
I grin at her. “True. I can’t help I love flowers. They’re so pretty and brighten up my apartment.”
She pushes me playfully. “You know I love your little obsession.”
“It’s not an obsession.” I draw back in mock offense. “It’s a normal amount of like.”
“If you say so.” She laughs, but I know she’s teasing me. “Wanna head to the botanical garden or home?”
Neither option sounds appealing at the moment, but I don’t know what does. Truthfully, I sort of want to be alone with my thoughts, but I don’t know how to say it without sounding like a terrible friend.
Devon puts her hand on my arm, stopping me. “If you need some time alone, it’s totally okay. I promise I understand.”
I hug her hard. “You’re the best friend I could have ever hoped to find. I love you.”
She squeezes me back just as tightly. “I love you too.”
We release each other, and both of us sniff.
“I’m heading back to the dorm,” Devon announces. “Let me know when you’re home safe, okay?”
“I will.”
She waves and heads in the opposite direction.
Me? I have no idea where I’m going. I only know I don’t want to go to the garden.
It reminds me too much of that first conversation with Bannik.
I’m mad at him for taking that place away from me, because it’s all I can think about now when I visit.
Blindly, I start walking again. Inspiration strikes, and I head for the archives building.
Books were some of my favorite treasures I’d find in the garbage during my shifts at the sanitation facility. Since everyone in the upper tier utilized data pads, physical books were rare, which made me appreciate the ones I’d find all the more, no matter if they were partially destroyed.
Johnna had shown us the archives building shortly after we got here.
After she crash-landed on the planet and discovered she was the heart’s fire of the lead healer, she spent a lot of time within the stacks.
Inside, the annals hold so much history of Bohna and its people.
The place had grabbed both of our information-loving hearts, and I’ve visited several times, but not since the attack.
A few turns later, I come to a stop at the base of the steps leading up to the doors.
Like all the buildings in Preska, it’s copper-hued in color and industrial in design, with large bolts connecting giant round pipes that run vertically along the exterior walls and horizontally along the rooftops. Mirrored windows conceal the interior.
I stride up the steps and push open the double doors.
The sound echoes in the quiet. The environment is hushed and almost reverent.
A few scholars wander through row after row of annals.
I love the way it smells in here. Like old parchment and ink.
It’s what I imagine libraries used to smell like before they were all shut down in place of technology.
Technology is prevalent on Bohna—far more than even on Earth.
But unlike on my former planet, the Bohnari still honor and respect the relevance of the written word in its original format.
I weave through the long rows of shelves lined with journals and bound material, making my way to a section I’m familiar with.
I can’t read the lettering on the spines, but it doesn’t matter because I’ve memorized the symbols I’m looking for.
When I find the right journal, I take it out and head to one of the private reading rooms. The door clicks closed and sounds quieter than normal.
Maybe because I can’t hear it over my racing heart.
Inside is a pair of the translation glasses an engineer built for us humans. Well, maybe he kindly did it for me, because I’m not sure if any of the other women has visited here before, besides Johnna and me. I’m almost positive my friends haven’t.
When Horek told Quinn she was his heart’s fire and what that truly meant, I’d been curious about the history of mates and the Bohnari before they stopped producing female children.
After an embarrassing conversation with one of the scholars, I’d managed to locate a detailed journal that answered nearly all the questions I had but didn’t want to ask.
I put on the glasses and open the journal to read.
The text lays out everything about a Bohnari’s heart’s fire, including the physical manifestations—which I’ve already witnessed—as well as the biological changes that occur.
My cheeks grow warm reading about the overwhelming urge not only to mate, but to breed.
It’s some intrinsic part of the whole process.
Feeling far more flustered than a mature woman should, I quickly skim that part and move on to the dangerous effects of an unfulfilled mating between a Bohnari male and his heart’s fire.
I hadn’t paid much attention to this section the last time I’d read through it because it didn’t feel necessary.
Quinn and Horek are madly in love, and that love is expressed not just emotionally, but sexually.
It’s not as though they need to worry about what would happen by not fulfilling their mating.
If what I’m reading is accurate, though, there are still devastating consequences.
Like the fact that although the mating fever madness remains dormant, the burning pain of the fever itself—if not sated—becomes excruciating.
Agonizing. Unbearable. So much so that there are a few records of Bohnari taking their own lives.
My heart stops beating for a second. A lead weight lands on my chest, and I grow sick to my stomach. I yank the glasses off my face, dropping them carelessly onto the table.
“Shit, shit, shit.” I rub my eyes and lay my forehead on my folded arms on the tabletop. “Why does this have to happen to me?”
Bannik must know the consequences if we don’t become mates in the full sense.
Would he really rather die than be with me?
Or is he actually sacrificing himself so I’m not mated to a guy I hold partially responsible for people dying?
It’s not as though I’ve been good at hiding how I feel about the role he played.
Or is that his plan? Guilt me into mating with him because I don’t want another person to die—even him?
A groan rumbles up from my chest, and I lift my head to put the glasses back on and finish reading.
There isn’t a whole lot more discussed in regard to the potential for death.
Just a bit more about progeny and life-span.
I close the pages, set down the glasses, and return the journal to its rightful place on the shelf.
Thoughts weigh heavily on me as I make my way out of the archives building.
Once more, I walk without any specific destination in mind.
The heat of the sun warms me and makes me realize how cold I’d actually gotten.
Worse, it reminds me of the heat radiating off Bannik when I’d touched him earlier.
His chest had been rock hard beneath his shirt.
As soon as I touched him, I knew it was a mistake.
A mistake my body keeps urging me to repeat.
“What a nightmare.”
It’s not going to go away either, no matter how much I wish it would. Every day, I try to resolve myself to be more like Olivia. Someone who is fearless—or rather, doesn’t let the fear hold her back. I never could have imagined how excruciatingly difficult it would be.
I glance around. Nothing about where I’ve ended up is familiar.
More guards than I’m used to seeing walk around.
They all appear to be either exiting or entering a large complex up ahead.
One with a significant amount of security, I’m now noticing.
While I’ve never been here, my guess is these are the barracks.
“What are the chances?” Apparently, they’re high. Almost as if something drew me here. I push the thought away with a quickness that startles me.
Bolstering what little courage I have, I stride forward and stop at the main entrance. The camera in the corner adjusts angles, and after a blip of static, a crisp, clear image appears on a video monitor of a Bohnari male.
“Hi.” I wave awkwardly. “I’m here to see Bannik, please.”
The monitor goes dark but the lock on the door disengages, so I pull it open and let myself in.
The lobby area is large, airy, and lined with framed pictures.
I don’t venture any farther but, instead, stand in the uncomfortable silence and wait.
I’ve nearly given up waiting when there’s the sound of approaching footsteps.
I hold my breath until finally Bannik arrives from one of the off-branching hallways.
His unease at my appearance is evident. “Why are—”
“We need to talk.” The words are rushed out.
Bannik shakes his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
I scoff. “Yeah, well, right now, I don’t particularly care.”
For a second, I can almost believe his lips twitch as if I’ve amused him, but it’s gone too fast. He doesn’t say anything for another minute, and as much as I’m desperate to look away, I don’t. Finally, he sighs.
“This way.” He turns down the same hallway he came from, and I follow because what else can I do?