Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
There’s an intake of breath, either from Demi or Yvonne—maybe both. These two women, who are barely more than strangers to me, know better than to bring up my complicated history with the chancellor.
Yet Gem doubles down.
“Is this to get Chancellor Bren’s approval? Or Gabe’s? Or maybe his?” She points toward Kalden’s distant, retreating form. “Do you even realize how much you center your whole value around these men?”
“That’s not true,” I bite back, but she’s not done.
“After the divorce, you blamed yourself for not being Gabe’s perfect little breeding machine.
And each year since, you’ve thrown yourself at any man willing to give you attention.
Sun’s pits, Orelle! Just a few days ago, you were begging for a proposal from a man almost twice your age whose kisses felt like ‘mucus exchanges’—your words, not mine. ”
A tear breaks free, barreling down my cheek as I stiffen. “You know I was only pursuing him to avoid being eligible for the Hunt.”
“Were you, though?” Gem shakes her head and steps in closer, dropping her voice.
“I know that’s part of it, but I think there’s a bigger part of you that believes your existence won’t matter until you do enough, be enough, sacrifice enough for a man.
I mean, fuck! All of us are literally groomed from day one to think that, so it’s not even your fault.
And it won’t matter how many times I tell you that your existence alone is wanted and useful to me, because I’m just another woman whose opinions matter less than those of our male counterparts. ”
The tears come more steadily now. I take several long, measured breaths before responding. “Your opinion means everything to me, Gem.”
“It shouldn’t, though. Your opinion of yourself should be the most important.
Then, maybe mine at a close second. And T’s, of course.
” She chuckles, trying to ease the tension.
“All I’m saying is, you’ve already given up so much.
I’d hate for you to make another sacrifice in the name of patriotism, or worse, chase after a man with an over-inflated confidence in his abilities.
I want you to choose yourself, to prioritize your survival over anyone else’s and be truly selfish for once. But I don’t think you will.”
I reach for Gem’s hand, and she lets me.
“I can’t,” I whisper. “And it’s not about patriotism or chasing after Kalden or Gabe.
We finally have a chance to stop this sun-damned cycle of unnecessary deaths.
What if this could be the last Hunt? Or at least improve the odds for our successors.
Maybe it’s na?ve of me to hope for that.
But if I have to risk my life to potentially save dozens, or hundreds, I will. ”
Gem doesn’t respond right away. I feel her staring at me through her helmet, and I shift my weight between my feet, nervous that she’ll keep fighting me on this.
“I won’t fault you if you choose differently for yourself.” I turn toward Demi and Yvonne, who’ve graciously given Gem and me the space to work through our shit. “Same for either of you. None of us chose to be put in this mess, but we can make a choice now.”
Survival, or sacrifice. Find a semblance of safety further in the forest, or toe the line between sand and grass.
Gem’s rigid shoulders relax, but only slightly. “Where you go, I go.”
After a whispered exchange, Demi and Yvonne both nod.
“You sure?” I ask.
Yvonne shrugs. “For now.”
Demi jabs her elbow into her friend’s arm, then adds, “Sticking together as a group feels smarter than going off just us two.”
With that, we jog through the patchy shrubbery in the direction that Kalden went.
It only takes a few minutes for us to catch up to him, and I suspect he intentionally slowed down for us.
Unlike before, he keeps a restrained pace, never straying more than a couple of yards ahead of me.
I catch him glancing over his shoulder every so often, but neither of us speaks.
Gem catches on, but she too stays quiet.
It isn’t until we take a hygiene break to relieve our bladders and retreat from the midday sun that Kalden breaks the tense silence that’s festered all morning.
“Do you mind if I talk to Orelle alone for a moment?” He directs the question to Gem, who shrugs.
“That’s up to her, but why? Didn’t we just agree to stick together?”
Demi and Yvonne swivel their heads towards us to listen.
Kalden clears his throat. “There’s something sensitive I’d like to share with her, and I’m not sure it would be appropriate for the group.”
I tuck my arms against my chest. “If you make it quick.”
“Keep an eye out for any black smoke, but don’t follow it until we return.” Kalden nods, then leads me deeper into the forest.
I’m about to question how much farther he plans on taking me when he stops and procures two peaches from his knapsack.
“Hungry?” He tugs off his helmet and extends a hand in offering.
Pointedly ignoring the way the twin suns of his irises bear into me, I set my sights on the two fuzzy fruits in his open palm. “When did you get those?”
“This morning, your kiss tasted like peaches.” He rolls the corner of his bottom lip beneath his teeth, as if he can still taste me there. Warmth licks across my own lips at the memory of it. “I grabbed a couple on our way back to camp, in case you wanted more later.”
The way his tone deepens makes it sound like he’s talking about more than fruit.
Or maybe I’m hearing what I want to hear.
My brain chastises the stupid thumping organ in my chest.
“I don’t,” I snap. “Did you bring me all the way out here just to share a snack and chat about what my kiss tasted like?”
Some of the hardness returns to Kalden’s features.
“You haven’t told the others that our solar sensors are deactivated, so I figured you wouldn’t want to talk about this openly.
It’s time that we have everyone remove their helmets.
We could cover a lot more ground, and the others would stand a better chance during the next attack. ”
I let the words hang in the dense forest air for a moment. “And expose them all to the thing we’re taught to hate? I can’t ask them to do that.”
“Why? The sun isn’t our enemy here. You know that as well as I do. All we’d need to do is show them proof that we can harness it while remaining unchanged.”
“Are we, though? Unchanged?” I fidget with the tears in my gloves as I admit, “I don’t feel the same. There’s a constant tingle now in my heart and veins. A warmth. And in my chest, it’s like I can sense this—”
“Magnetic pull?” Kalden finishes my thought.
“Yes,” I surrender. “How do I know I’m not turning into one of them? A Sol? And you too?”
His cheeks attempt to hold back a smile.
“Are you amused by this, Kalden?”
Kalden regains his composure. “No, it’s just that they’re not .
. . I’ve channeled significantly more power than this, and yet my humanity remains intact.
So, I have no doubts that we’ll be fine, but I won’t ask the others to take their helmets off if you don’t think it’s a good idea.
I trust you. I hope you know you can trust me, too. ”
The calm steadiness of his voice soothes my fitful pulse.
Though I can’t be as sure as he is, and I still have so many questions about how Kalden came to know all of this, I do trust him.
He’s proven himself thoughtful, good-intentioned, and assertive—qualities that have kept us alive longer than I thought possible in this sun-drenched expanse.
I want to believe he’s right, that I’m reading too much into the foreign sensations coursing through me, so I offer a single nod.
He drops his head to eye the peaches still in his hand. “Before we rejoin the others, I really was hoping we could use this privacy to have a quick bite, and to give me the chance to apologize.”
“Apologize for what?” I prod, loosening my grip on my folded arms.
“For kissing you,” Kalden says, like it’s the obvious answer.
“Why? Do you regret it?” My words are stilted by the sudden concern that our heated moment of embrace wasn’t all-consuming for him in the same way it was for me.
“No,” he says, and my shoulders relax a little at the affirmation. “But you’ve been quiet all morning.”
“So have you.”
“Only because I thought I’d pushed you into something you weren’t ready for.”
“It was just a kiss, Kalden.”
“Was it, though?”
My gaze finally lifts to his. Luminous flecks of gold flare around his pupils as he stares into mine, even through my helmet, seeing far more than I’d like him to.
“Yes,” I urge.
It’s a half-truth. On the surface, it was just a kiss.
But beneath that, it was like a meeting of souls.
As impossible as it sounds, I could swear I’d felt the core of his essence surging up to greet my own.
Even now, I sense the pull of it, of him.
Beckoning me forward. Urging me to close the distance until I’m once again wrapped in his intoxicating scent of smoky bergamot.
I press my booted heels into the patchy grass, fighting against the impulse. I can’t allow myself to give in again—not while Kalden’s keeping vital secrets.
“It was a perfectly normal kiss between two consenting adults, so your apology isn’t needed.”
Kalden lifts a brow, but doesn’t counter. “Then what’s bothering you?”
“Back there, when that Sol attacked Yvonne—”
“You were amazing,” Kalden rushes forward to say. “You did exactly as we practiced.”
Blood rushes to my cheeks, but I shake off the satisfaction of his compliment. “You healed her, didn’t you?”
He stills, arms falling to his sides. “I did.”
“Why?”
Creases stretch across his forehead. “Why did I heal her? She wasn’t going to—”
“No, I’m glad you helped her,” I cut him off to clarify. “But why didn’t you tell me that was possible? You could’ve said something during our training sessions.”
Kalden shakes his head. “There wasn’t enough time.
The offensive maneuver you did, the flare of solar energy, is a primal release of power.
It doesn’t require much thought or skill beyond intention.
Healing is more complex. You’re not just releasing raw energy into someone else.
You have to dilute and localize it to the exact right spot.
It’s not a skill that can be taught in a few hours.
And if you attempt it without proper training, it could make things much worse. ”
He rolls his thumb over the ripe fruit in his hand, then pierces its flesh.
I wince at the juice flowing from the peach’s wound. “Oh.”
As Kalden takes a bite, I consider his words more carefully. “How do you know so much about this? Did someone train you?”
He nods, wiping the dripping juice from his mouth with the back of his hand.
“My big brother,” he says, voice a calculated monotone.
As much as I want to unravel the enigma standing across from me, I don’t press it.
Instead, I hold out a palm. “I’ll take that other peach now.”