Chapter 19
Chloe
Two more days through the mountains, winding along narrow passes where bioluminescent moss painted the rock face with light, camping beneath skies scattered with unfamiliar constellations.
And every night, lying in Nansar’s arms, learning things I never expected to discover.
The way his breath caught when I traced the ridges along his spine.
The deep, rumbling purr that vibrated through his chest when I kissed the hollow of his throat.
The surprising softness of his pale skin over all that hard muscle.
Every night we came together beneath unfamiliar constellations. His touch had become both familiar and thrilling—a comfort I never imagined again.
But one thing still puzzled me.
The elder's words kept echoing in my mind. The way Nansar had frozen when I'd noticed him scratching his horns. That flush of color across his pale skin. The elder's knowing laugh. It all pointed to something significant, something deeper than the simple attraction Nansar claimed it meant.
I hadn't asked him again. Maybe I was afraid of the answer. Or maybe I was afraid of what it might mean for us when this was all over.
What would happen when the Alliance ship arrived?
The question gnawed at me, growing more insistent with each passing mile.
I'd board that ship. They'd take me to my dad, probably send me home to Earth.
And Nansar would... what? Return to whatever life he'd carved out here on Palaydium, serving out the rest of his fifty-year sentence.
The thought made my chest ache.
I told myself it was just gratitude. He'd saved my life, protected me, guided me through terrain that would have killed me alone within days.
But it was more than gratitude, and I knew it.
After Declan, I'd thought I'd never feel safe with anyone again.
Nansar had been different from the start. Patient. Gentle. He never pushed, never demanded. When I'd flinched from his touch those first few days, he'd simply given me space.
Slowly, carefully, he'd helped me remember that touch didn't have to mean pain or powerlessness. That closeness could be comfort instead of threat.
He'd given me back something I thought Declan had stolen forever—the ability to feel safe in someone else's presence. To trust again.
How could I not feel something for him after that?
Of course I'd miss him. Of course saying goodbye would sting. But it would do more than sting, and I knew it.
I'd miss the warmth of his body against mine at night, the steady rhythm of his breathing lulling me to sleep. I'd miss his dry humor, the way his eyes crinkled when something amused him. I'd miss the feeling of safety I had when he was near, the certainty that he would protect me no matter what.
I'd miss him.
And that terrified me more than anything we'd encountered on this journey.
Because what did it mean, to feel this way about someone I'd known for such a short time? Someone who was a prisoner, whose life was so fundamentally different from mine that any future together seemed impossible?
When I tried to picture my old life—my apartment, my job, the coffee shop where I got my morning latte, even my dad's cabin in Montana—it all felt distant and faded, like a photograph left too long in the sun.
But when I tried to picture walking away from Nansar, boarding that ship and never seeing him again, my eyes burned with tears along with a suffocating panic clawing at my chest.
I didn't know what I wanted anymore. I only knew that the closer we got to the rendezvous point, the heavier the weight in my chest became.
I pushed the thought away as Nansar pulled Starfield to a stop.
"We're close now," he said softly, his fingers moving in a gentle caress across my stomach.
I nodded, but apprehension skittered down my spine. We were close to the rendezvous point. Close to where I would meet the Alliance rescue ship.
The thought didn't bring the relief I expected. Instead, it settled like a rock in my stomach.
The valley unfurled before us like something from a dream, cradled between towering peaks that scraped Palaydium's yellow sky.
Lush and impossibly fertile, it stood in breathtaking contrast to the harsh terrain we'd spent days crossing.
Vegetation in shades of emerald and jade carpeted the ground in thick waves, dotted with clusters of crimson flowers.
A stream carved through the valley's heart, waters dancing and glittering as they caught the sunlight, throwing prisms of gold and amber across the surrounding rocks.
But something felt wrong.
Nansar's body had gone rigid behind me, his hand stilling on my stomach.
"What is it?" I whispered.
"It's too quiet. No fowl. No movement in the brush. Nothing."
Now that he mentioned it, I realized he was right. The valley was beautiful, but silent—unnaturally so. Even the wind seemed to have died away.
"Maybe we should—"
"Wait." Nansar dismounted in one fluid motion, then helped me down. His hand went to the blade at his hip. "Stay close to me."
We began moving toward the clearing where the Alliance ship was supposed to land, leaving Starfield behind to munch on purple grass. I found myself holding my breath, listening for any sound that might explain the eerie stillness.
We were perhaps a hundred yards from the clearing when a figure suddenly emerged from behind a cluster of rocks.
Nansar moved faster than I'd ever seen him, pushing me back as his blade sang free of its sheath.
"Whoa, whoa!" The figure held up both hands. "It's me!"
Nansar froze, his blade still raised. "Ahrick?"
The male stepped fully into view, his face breaking into a relieved grin. "Thank the stars I found you."
I stared up—and up—at the towering figure before us.
Ahrick had to be nearly eight feet tall, his frame broad and heavily muscled in a way that made Nansar look lean by comparison.
Unlike Nansar's pale skin, Ahrick's body was covered in a soft-looking pelt that reminded me of velvet, a deep tan color that shimmered slightly in the light.
His long dark hair was woven into a thick braid that fell past his shoulders, and when his gaze met mine, I found myself momentarily transfixed by his eyes—brilliant gold irises set against deep blue sclera that seemed to glow with inner light.
"What are you doing here?" Nansar lowered his weapon but didn't sheath it, confusion evident in his voice even as relief flickered across his features.
"Stopping you from walking into a trap." Ahrick's eyes shifted to me, and his expression softened. "You must be Chloe."
I stepped out from behind Nansar. "I am. And you're Nansar's friend?"
"Ahrick," he confirmed with a slight bow.
Despite the tension, I saw Nansar's lips quirk in what might have been a smile. "Ahrick, this is Chloe. Chloe, Ahrick."
"Nice to meet you," I said before moving on to more important matters. "A trap, you said?" My stomach tightened. "What kind of trap?"
Ahrick's expression grew serious. "Duke Ako comm’ed a few days after you left. The Alliance received intel that Declan Hewes was headed to Palaydium." His golden eyes fixed on me with concern. "To grab you, Chloe."
The name sent ice through my veins. Declan.
A tremor started in my hands and spread through my body. The memories crashed over me—his cold eyes, his calculating smile, the way he'd made me feel like a possession rather than a person. My breath came shorter, faster.
Then Nansar's arm wrapped around my waist, solid and warm, pulling me against his side.
The trembling didn't stop immediately, but his presence anchored me.
The fear was still there, coiled tight in my stomach, but it no longer threatened to overwhelm me.
With Nansar beside me, I felt stronger. Ready to face whatever came next.
"I set out to warn you," Ahrick continued, glancing between us. "I have to say, getting through the mountains was surprisingly easy. I didn't see a single Welati the entire journey. I expected at least some trouble, given their reputation."
Nansar and I shared a look, and I felt a smile tug at my lips. His eyes warmed with understanding, a hint of amusement dancing in their depths.
"What?" Ahrick looked between us, clearly puzzled. "What am I missing?"
"Let's just say," Nansar said, his hand finding mine and giving it a gentle squeeze, "the Welati had their reasons for letting you pass unharmed."
I felt warmth bloom in my chest at the unspoken acknowledgment of what had transpired in the Welati village. But the moment was fleeting, overshadowed by the threat Ahrick had just revealed.
"We need to move," I said, forcing myself to focus. "If Declan is here—"
"He'll be close," Ahrick confirmed grimly.
The clearing opened up before us, bathed in sunlight. At first glance, it appeared empty. Just another patch of open ground in the endless wilderness. But then Ahrick raised his hand, pointing toward a specific area near the far edge.
"There," he whispered, barely audible. "Do you see it?"
I squinted, trying to make sense of what I was looking at. The air seemed to shimmer slightly, like heat waves rising from sunbaked concrete, but the distortion was subtle. Wrong, somehow.
Nansar's jaw tightened. "Cloaked ship."
My heart hammered against my ribs. "Could it be the Alliance?" If it was the Alliance, maybe there was a chance that this could end with Declan in chains... or dead. I'd take either.
Ahrick shook his head slowly, his expression doubtful. "The Alliance controls this entire planet. Why would they need to cloak their presence?"
"He's right," Nansar agreed, though his tone suggested he wasn't entirely convinced. "They have no reason to hide."
"But we can't know for sure," I pressed, unwilling to let go of the possibility entirely.