Chapter 19
Rezor
“The soil composition here is more alkaline than I expected,” Galan said, crouching to examine a sample the caretakers had brought from beyond the valley’s edge.
The Destran horticulture expert had arrived that morning, full of enthusiasm and plans that made my head spin.
“We’ll need to introduce specific bacterial colonies to balance the pH before we attempt any large-scale planting. ”
“How long will that take?” I asked, forcing myself to focus on his words instead of the hollow ache in my chest.
“Up to a full sun-cycle, depending on how the soil responds.” He stood, brushing dirt from his hands. “This is a long-term project, Lord Rezor. Decades, possibly. But with the valley’s preserved plant species as a genetic base, we can rebuild what was lost.”
Decades. The word should have filled me with hope. Instead, all I could think was that it meant decades of this emptiness. This constant, gnawing pain that had taken up residence in my bones.
“That’s acceptable,” I said. “We’ll begin preparations immediately. Coordinate with Venith on any technology you need. She has access to all our systems now.”
One of the caretakers, an older female named Sira, was watching me with concern. “Lord Rezor, have you eaten today?”
“My meals are not your concern.” I turned away from her scrutiny. “There’s much to organize. Vikkat arrives tomorrow to discuss trade routes. The Destran council wants a formal treaty. My people need guidance as we navigate these changes—”
“With all due respect, our people need their lord healthy during this unique time,” Sira interrupted gently. “Zelana told me you’ve lost weight. That you work from dawn until you collapse from exhaustion.”
Because if I stopped working, if I let my mind rest for even a moment, all I could think about was her. About Cleo, somewhere among the stars, living her life without me. About the way she’d looked back before the door closed. About the mate bond that burned in my chest like a constant wound.
“As I said, you need not concern yourself with—” I cut off as a shadow fell over us.
Everyone looked up.
Another ship. The same sleek design as the one that had taken Cleo away ten cycles ago. My marks flared with heat and pain, an involuntary response I couldn’t control. Seeing one of those ships in my valley now caused physical pain. My body reacted like she might be on it.
“More visitors?” Galan asked, shading his eyes against the afternoon sun.
“Apparently.” I watched a small shuttle craft detach from the larger vessel, beginning its descent toward the plaza. What did they want now? We’d already established communication protocols. Already begun trade negotiations. Already agreed to scientific exchanges and cultural programs.
What more could they possibly need?
The shuttle touched down with that whisper-quiet precision I’d come to associate with off-world technology.
My guards moved into position, but there was no real threat anymore.
Just more strangers wanting to discuss more plans for our newly opened world.
I sighed, tired, and suddenly missing the simple times before three sky people crashed into the mountainside.
Then, the hatch opened. Cleo burst out.
And I stopped breathing.
She looked around frantically, her hair wild, her eyes searching. She was wearing the same clothes she’d left in—simple pants and a tunic—and she looked beautiful and impossible and I had definitely lost my mind because this was clearly a hallucination brought on by exhaustion and grief.
Then her eyes found mine.
“Rezor!”
She ran. Actually ran across the plaza toward me, and my body moved before my brain could catch up. I met her halfway, and she launched herself into my arms with enough force to make me stumble.
Warm. She was warm and solid and real, her arms wrapping around my neck, her face buried against my shoulder.
“You’re here,” I managed, my voice breaking. “You came back.”
“I did.” Her words tumbled out in a rush against my skin. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I was scared and stupid and I left but I couldn’t—I can’t—Rezor, I love you. I love you so much and I want to make this work. I want to figure it out together. I want—”
I scooped her up and cradled her against my chest just before my knees gave out and I dropped to the ground, shaking so hard I couldn’t hold myself upright. This wasn’t a hallucination or a dream or wishful thinking. Cleo was here, in my arms, saying she loved me.
My marks blazed so hot they hurt. The pain in my chest cracked open and instead of more emptiness, there was light. Heat. Life rushing back into spaces that had gone cold and dark.
“I thought—” I couldn’t finish. I struggled to find words for the despair I’d been living in. “I thought you were gone forever.”
She pulled back just enough to cup my face, her eyes bright with tears. “I’m here and I’m staying. If you still want me. If I didn’t ruin everything by leaving.”
“Want you?” A laugh burst out of me, half sob, half joy. “Cleo, I’ve been dying without you. I can’t eat. Can’t sleep. Every moment feels wrong because you’re not here. Of course I want you.”
She kissed me then, and it was like breathing after drowning. Like sunlight after endless gray. My hands tangled in her hair, pulling her closer, needing to feel every point of contact between us. Confirming that she was real. That she’d come back.
That she was mine.
When we finally broke apart, her hands were shaking as she wiped tears from her face, and I couldn’t stop touching her. Her hair, her face, her shoulders. Mapping her presence like my body needed more proof she was actually here.
“I missed you so fucking much,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m sorry for how I left. For not trusting that you could change. For letting my baggage control me instead of listening to my heart.”
“I’m sorry too.” I pressed my forehead to hers. “For keeping your people from you. For not understanding that protecting you sometimes means letting you go.”
“I don’t want to be let go.” She laughed through her tears. “I mean, I do. I want the freedom to choose. But I’m choosing you, Rezor. I’m choosing us.”
“What about the stars?” I asked, needing her to understand. “What about traveling? Exploring? I won’t cage you, Cleo.”
“Maybe we can explore together sometimes.” She pulled back to look at me properly. “Come see the Destran Solas. Come meet Maya’s baby when it’s born. Come explore with me. The valley will be here when we come back.”
Explore together. The possibility hadn’t even occurred to me. Leaving the valley. Traveling to the stars. Seeing the worlds Cleo had described during those long nights in my chambers.
“You’d want that?” I asked. “Me, traveling with you?”
“I’d want you anywhere.” She placed a hand on my chest. “Here, there, everywhere. As long as we’re together.”
“I would like to see the Solas,” I admitted. “I’d like to understand your world the way you’ve learned mine.”
Her smile was radiant. “Really?”
“Really.” I stood with her locked in my arms, and realized we had an audience. Guards. Scientists. Caretakers. Half the village, probably, all watching their lord have a complete emotional breakdown in the middle of the plaza. I didn’t care.
“There’s something else we should discuss,” Cleo said, a hint of nervousness entering her voice. “About children.”
My heart stuttered. “Children?”
“We don’t know if we’re biologically compatible yet.” She was blushing now, that ruddiness spreading across her cheeks that I’d missed so much. “Humans and D’tran have never tried before. But I want to try. I want—if we can—I want to build a family with you.”
The image hit me with stunning clarity. Cleo, round with our child. Little ones with her eyes and my marks. A family. Not just a mate, but a future. A life built together.
“Yes,” I said, my voice rough with emotion. “Yes to all of it. To children, to travel, to whatever life we can build together.”
“Even if I’m difficult and stubborn and bad at staying put?”
“Especially then.” I pulled her closer. “You wouldn’t be you if you weren’t all those things. And I love you exactly as you are.”
Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. “I love you too. So much. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize that loving you doesn’t mean losing myself. That we can both be free together.”
I kissed her again, slower this time. Savoring it. Pouring all the cycles of longing and pain and desperate hope into the connection between us. When we broke apart, we were both breathing hard.
“Take me to your chambers,” she said. “Please. I need—I need to feel you. I need to know this is real.”
I didn’t need to be asked twice. I ignored the protests from my guards and the delighted gasps from the gathered crowd.
Let them talk. Let them see their lord completely undone by love.
I didn’t care about dignity or protocol or anything except getting Cleo somewhere private where I could show her exactly how much I’d missed her.
The trek to my chambers had never felt so long. She buried her face against my neck, pressing kisses to my skin that made my marks flare and my body ache with need. By the time I kicked the door shut behind us, I was shaking again.
I set her down on my bed gently, then came down on top of her, needing the reassurance of her body pressed to mine. “I missed you,” I whispered into her hair. “Every moment. Every breath. I was so empty without you.”
“I was miserable, too.” Her hands slid under my shirt, finding my marks.
The touch sent electricity through my entire body.
“I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep. Maya and Zara had to talk sense into me.
And Torven, Zara’s mate, explained mate bonds to me.
Made me understand how it is for Destrans early in the bond, and how it must be similar with D’tran, too.
” She pulled back to look at me, her eyes dark with desire.
“I don’t want to waste any more time being scared. I want you. Now. Please.”
I claimed her mouth in a kiss that was all heat and hunger and desperate relief. She responded with equal intensity, her fingers tangling in my hair, her body arching against mine. We shed clothes between kisses.
When we were finally skin to skin, hands and lips everywhere, I had to pause. Had to look at her. Had to memorize this moment. Everything that had been broken and was now whole again.
“Cleo,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “I will spend the rest of my life proving I’m worthy of the choice you made today.”
“You already are.” She pulled me down to her. “Now stop talking and make love to me.”
So I did.
I worshipped her with my hands, my mouth, my entire being. Relearning every curve, every sensitive spot, every sound she made when I touched her just right. She met me with equal passion, her touches reverent and hungry all at once.
When I finally slid inside her, when we joined together with a rightness that made my marks flare almost painfully bright, I felt complete for the first time since that fateful cycle when I’d turned her people away and faced the consequences.
Home. This was home. Not the valley, not my chambers, but here. With her.
We moved together with a hunger intensified by our separation and reunion. Every touch meant more. Every kiss carried the weight of promises made and kept. When she fell apart beneath me, crying out my name, I followed her over the edge into pleasure so intense it bordered on painful.
Afterward, we lay tangled together, my face buried in her hair, her fingers tracing patterns on my chest where my marks still glowed with residual heat.
“I’m never leaving you again,” she murmured. “I mean, I’ll leave the valley sometimes. For jobs, if they’re interesting, for visits with friends. But I’m never leaving you. There’s a difference.”
“I know.” I pressed a kiss to her temple. “We’re partners. Equals. In this together.”
“Together,” she agreed. “For the rest of our lives.”
“For the rest of our lives,” I echoed, pulling her closer. “I promise to trust you. To listen when you speak. To honor your choices, even when they scare me.”
“And I promise to trust you too.” She tilted her head to look at me. “To give you the benefit of the doubt. To communicate instead of running when things get hard. To build a life with you that includes both love and freedom.”
I sealed the promises with a kiss, deep and slow and full of everything I couldn’t put into words.
Outside, I could hear the sounds of the valley going about its evening routines. Scientists and diplomats and my own people navigating this new world we were building together. There would be challenges ahead. Complications as we figured out how to blend our lives, our cultures, our futures.
But lying here with Cleo in my arms, her warmth against my skin, her heartbeat steady beneath my palm, I knew we’d face it all together.
She’d chosen me.
She’d come back.
And I would spend the rest of my life making sure she never regretted it.
“I love you,” I whispered into the comfortable silence.
“I love you too,” she murmured back, already half-asleep. “My mate. My home.”
My marks pulsed with warmth and contentment, finally at peace.
Home. Yes. That sounded perfect.