Kira This kiss is fleeting. A tease and a touch that lasts only a fraction of a second, as if his lips hadn’t even been there at all. Was it even a kiss? At first, I fear it’s regret. That he didn’t mean to. That it was all just the heat of our bodies and the haze of the late night hour and this was all just some type of misunderstanding. There was no kiss, was there? It was just a slip of our faces too close in the dark– But in that same fraction of a second, I wonder why it matters. Or if there ever was a kiss? Did I want it to be a kiss? Do I care if he regrets it? I don’t, I realize. I don’t want him to regret it. I only want him to do it again. But one second goes by. Then two. Then three. And nothing happens. We are each frozen in the dark, unmoving and unsure of what to do. He stills beneath me, the faint whisper of his breath on my shoulder the only evidence he’s near. I close my eyes, searching for the willpower it’s going to take to try to accept that it’s not what he wa
Kira Gowan doesn’t say anything when I summon him to let me back in. He just opens the door, sensing my mood. I hope the smell of alcohol isn’t on me. That’s the last accusation I need right now. Hen gives me a look, and the only reason I know is because I can feel his stare on the back of my neck as I walk in without meeting his eyes. I don’t know how I’ve made it back to the infirmary. I lost my crutches somewhere, too frustrated and dejected to use them. I’m sweaty and a mess and probably could use a shower but who the hell cares. I make it to my room, followed by Gowan’s shadow to ensure my safe return. Mercifully we don’t run into any healers in the quiet corridors. He nods once when I open my door and retreats quietly down the hall. I don’t sleep, but strip off my clothes and accept an extra pair of scrubs left for pajamas at the end of my bed. I don’t want to wear them again. I don’t want to feel them on my skin. I don’t want the echo of how it felt when he touched me, weari
Perrin The day before The flight is turbulent. My stomach is already uneasy, clenching tighter with every passing mile that I depart from Lo. I didn’t want to leave and would turn around in a heartbeat if I could figure out how to hijack this damn plane. Mistra and Deidre are sitting as far as they can from each other, which isn’t altogether unexpected. But my father and Mark are speaking incessantly in hushed tones, so low that I can’t make out a word despite my heightened sense of hearing. Since the Sacred Call, it’s bizarre to leave me so intentionally in the dark. But Mark is tapping away at his phone, in conversation with someone as my father advises how to communicate. Their mutterings buzz in my ear like some annoying fly. My phone vibrates, distracting me. LO: When did you change your name to LOML in my phone? PERRIN: While I was waiting for Jennivah to leave and let me say goodbye for the third time. LO: What does it even stand for? LO: No, wait. Let me guess… Lo: Lei
Deidre We only have a half hour til we land when Mark approaches my seat. “Conference room. Now.” “I’ve already listened to my husband’s song and dance twice today. I’m not–” “It’s not about that.” I glance up at him, annoyed. “Then what is it?” His eyebrows crease. “Conference room.” By the time I’m out of my seat, Mistra and Jason are already seated. Perrin is the only one apart from the pilot not here. “Sit,” Jason says. I place my hands on my hips. “What?” “We’ve spoken to Janas,” Jason says in a measured tone. “Sit.” I don’t. “We’ve been in the air for more than two hours. You can’t possibly think he’s screwed things up already? I mean, hell, I’m not his biggest fan but–” “Sit. Down.” Jason’s tone leaves no room for disobedience this time, and I sink into the nearest chair. I check my watch. It’s 9:00 p.m. local. The guard would have been out for a few hours. Janas was likely at the guard post, monitoring patrol movements like he always does. “Well?” I ask pointedly.
Kira“Hello, Kira. I’m Sirius. And I can assure you, the pleasure is all mine.”His words are almost formal, tinged with an accent that I can’t quite place. But there’s a quiet intensity about him that’s instantly clear. He is authoritative and commanding, as if expecting his words to be believed and taken seriously. “Well, Sirius,” I say lightly, gesturing at his wheelchair. “What brings you in?”“Are you a healer?” he asks, his light eyebrows rising in surprise.I bark out a laugh. “If I were, I wouldn’t be in here.” I gesture at my own chair, but still completely captivated by his eyes. They suit him, as if the golden yellow of his hair and eyebrows are just a natural extension of the rest of him. I blink instinctively, aware that mine don’t match the inherent genetics that seem to make his meld together naturally. He’s incredibly pale, however, as if he never goes outdoors.“I suppose that’s true,” he replies, eyes dropping only for a fraction to take in my leg brace. They widen
Perrin “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” I say, gripping Ethan by the forearm and pulling him in to clap him on the back. “Are you sure you want to talk about eyes here?” Ethan mutters into my ear as he hugs me back. He draws away, his own golden eyes reserved. “Good call,” I mutter, taking a step away from him. “You look different.” My eyes sweep over the colors of his dark suit. Gone is the dark green of Aperture. He wears only Chiyad colors now. I can’t say that it doesn’t suit him, but I’m not really prepared for it, either. “Wish I could say the same for you,” he says quietly, stepping to my side. “Have you lost weight?” “No, but I see that you’ve found some.” He has. The muscles swell alarmingly under his suit, more so than they ever have before. “Recovery looks good on you. I’m sure Justin agrees.” He nods uncomfortably, adjusting his posture. His recovery from his attack, including the one from his mate, left his arm gravely injured. He was out of training for weeks,
Deidre I sigh, deflating into a chair in the grand hotel suite. I eye the grandeur of it; the gaudy nineteenth century decor, oversized paneling, and the new moldings painted gold as if trying to convince us that it’s been here for hundreds of years. “That wasn’t too bad.” I take a sip from the large glass of bourbon in my hand, the only real old stuff in this room. “And this stuff isn’t cheap. Apparently Nael isn’t trying to make a total ass out of himself.” “Bad? No,” Jason says, ignoring the comment about the alcohol. “You almost broke his hand,” Mark observes. “I did,” Jason smiles smugly. “Well, not entirely. I felt his ring-finger crack.” “Men,” Mistra mutters. I smile in silent agreement so only she can see. “Shall we call Janas?” Mark asks. “Yes,” Jason groans, settling into a chair beside me. “Let’s see how much progress he’s made. And Mark; don’t bother unpacking your bags. You’re going back tomorrow, remember?” Jesamine “How are you feeling?” “The same I was two h
Deidre“Thank you, Naineeve. Your discretion will not go unnoticed.”I hung up, dialing Jennivah immediately. Mistra, Jason, and Mark all sit around, their hearing keenly aware of the previous conversation and awaiting the next.“What’s our next move?” Mark asks.I pinch the bridge of my nose, then find the empty glass next to me on the side table. To my distinct surprise, Jason rises and fills it, the decanter full of amber liquid tinkling lightly as he replaces the stopper. He doesn’t make eye contact, but he knows I’m in my element. That I’m the only one that can control this situation right now.“He stays overnight. That’s good. Naineeve is assigned to him in case he returns. He will need lodging. Mark, ensure that he gets a courtesy place at the pack house. Indicate that as a fellow scholar that it’s my expectation to meet with him upon my return to Texas.”Mark raises his eyebrows. “In two weeks?” “Yes. He will have no choice but to respect my wishes. I am Luna, after all. And