Chapter 22
Each day apart from Screl was more miserable than the last, even if the combination of pain meds and sleeping pills attempted to dull the persistent throbbing.
Every muscle ached like she had run a marathon or climbed a mountain, but her brain was the worst of it. So many conflicting thoughts floated through her head, and it seemed like she would explode at any moment.
And her heart. Her fucking heart.
It actually ached, not that heartache bullshit you hear about, but a physical pain which clenched and tightened every time she tried to take a breath.
Lena was tired of being beholden to pills, especially after the short stint in Screl’s presence had made her feel more alive than ever before, even before the joining which had permanently altered her life.
Ochin was more than happy to welcome her back to the bar, but every day was filled with the same empty monotony as the one before.
Michaela tried to get her out of her quarters, inviting her to dinner or drinks on more than one occasion, but she didn’t have the energy to do anything besides work and sleep.
Or attempt to sleep, at least.
Her insomnia was as bad as ever now that she was apart from Screl, and even her normal meds weren’t helping. She missed the way he quieted her mind, eased the anxiety that had been so engrained in her since childhood, which only made her hate herself more.
What connection did she really have with Screl? Just because he’d acted nice didn’t forgive his cruel actions. Besides, any affection he had for her was fabricated, was it not? A compulsion from some biological process that she didn’t understand, which forced him to like her. Not real.
None of it had been real, and that hurt her most of all, that the way he’d pleasured her and cherished her had meant nothing.
As she lay on her bed—her only activity beyond going to work when she was scheduled—her thoughts were disrupted by the bell at her door.
A visitor? Michaela and Ochin were the only people who ever stopped by, and she knew for a fact that they were both working tonight.
Lena lumbered out of bed, the sleeping pills having done nothing anyway, and stepped up to the door, her hand hovering over the button to open it.
“Screl? Is that you?” she silently asked, remembering the way she’d heard his voice in her head during her visit with the Sovereign.
There was nothing but silence, and she sighed, pressing the button as tears burned at her eyes. Her excitement flared and deflated when she saw a Thren, then realized it was Dronzal instead of the one she had been hoping for.
“What is it?” she asked when Dronzal said nothing.
The Thren had found quarters on the station, and Lena often saw her mulling about Ochin’s, but this was the first time she’d come for a visit.
“I have received word from Botune. Commander Screl has been imprisoned.”
“Imprisoned?” Lena gasped, a stab of pain piercing her and making her wince. “Why?”
“He attempted to renounce his position as a prince, but the Sovereign would not hear it. He refused to believe that his offspring is fated to a human, and imprisoned him at the palace.”
“Why did he try to renounce?”
Lena’s chest tightened with strain, worry overcoming her despite all that Screl had done.
“For you, Lena. So he could return to Henios and be with you.”
All the air left her lungs, and she pressed a hand to the open doorway, trying to steady herself. She knew he had no love for his father, had not seemed like an eager royal, and yet he was in prison, suffering, because of her.
Dronzal shuffled her feet, not meeting Lena’s gaze.
“Did you know he was going to do this?” Lena asked, eyes narrowed into a scowl.
Now her anger was flaring, like a star ready to supernova. Dronzal should have warned her. Despite all the confusion she felt about Screl, she knew how cruel his father was and didn’t wish to see him imprisoned for her.
“He does not apprise his crew of his decisions, but it is what I suspected. It would be the only way the Sovereign would allow him to go to Henios, to be with you. As a prince, he is expected to travel across the galaxy as needed to follow his father’s orders, but as a commoner he would be free to pursue whatever he wanted. ”
“What’s going to happen to him?”
Panic was building quickly, a jittery sensation that started in her empty chest and extended to her limbs, making it difficult to focus.
“I do not know.”
Lena inhaled deeply, her thoughts racing to a single conclusion.
She had to go back.
Could she live with herself if she let something bad happen to him? Would she even survive if the Sovereign sought to punish him more thoroughly than he had before? She recalled the mirrored pain slamming through her body with each blow, each strike to her fated.
Her fated.
She was really calling him that, after everything.
But yes, after everything, she couldn’t just abandon him to his abusive father, an ancient Thren who was far past the point of coherence.
You must be really desperate if you’d sacrifice everything for someone who doesn’t love you.
No. She wasn’t desperate, and whether he loved her or not wasn’t the point. Screl was willing to face his father and renounce his royal status for her, and that had to mean something.
Why else would he be willing to give up so much?
There was a feeling of warmth in her chest, one drowning out the cruel voice inside her head telling her that she was worthless. The voices of her father and mother and Greg and the one-night-stands—anyone who had ever made her feel like she wasn’t good enough.
“I want to go back,” she said, and Dronzal eyed her carefully.
“Are you sure? The Sovereign asked for you to leave, and I am uncertain how he would react if you were to return.”
“Yes, I’m sure. Take me back.”
Dronzal paused as if assessing the situation, but nodded after a long, expectant silence.
“Get dressed. We will leave at once.”