Page 81 of Stars in Nova

Kisan’s brow furrowed at the unexpected comparison. ‘Sante.’

‘You’re welcome,’ she replied, a smile tugging at her lips.

Kisan, for all his gruffness, melted at their sweetness and innocence.

Malik’s endless questions and Liora’s quiet curiosity were a balm to something profound inside him—something he hadn’t realized was broken.

Their world was simple, unburdened by the stress of his past, and their fascination with him was untainted by fear or judgment.

When Malik traced the glowing lines of his tattoos with glee, and Liora pressed a finger into them, gasping as the shapes shifted on his arm, Kisan was hit with an unfamiliar warmth in his chest.

Later, the young girl gifted him a small drawing of him seated on the divan, looking away in thought.

The likeness was off, but he kept his face straight, appreciating the thought.

‘SanteLiora, this is incredible.’

He stared at the childlike strokes made in charcoal long after she had gone to bed.

He couldn’t help but wonder if, in another life, he might have had something like this—something worth fighting for.

But here, in the heart of Thalassi, he found himself wanting to fight for it regardless.

One evening, the warm bioluminescent lamps cast a soft glow around Samira’s simple but cozy living room. The Rider sat on a divan, head back.

Samira tagged his expression. Contentment.

Their eyes met, and he smiled. ‘Stomach full, mind at peace. Tis heaven.’

She beamed back and continued washing plates at the kitchen sink, her soul at ease.

It was like he’d always been in her world, her home, like these evenings together. These moments were always meant to be.

Overwhelmed with poignancy, she beckoned her daughter over and sent her on an errand. Her eyes followed as Liora’s face lit up at the task she’d been given.

‘Kisan.’

He opened an eye to see Liora appear, her small hands carrying a clay mug of steaming tea. She approached with a shy smile, her silver and gold eyes gleaming.

‘This is for you,’ she said, holding the cup.

Kisan knifed up and took it from her with so much care it brought a tear to Samira’s eyes.

He gazed at the liquid within, which seemed to hold the elixir of life instead of a simple mint and wildflower brew.

‘Sante,’ he rasped, bowing to the little girl. ‘How thoughtful of you, beautiful.’

Her daughter didn’t respond with words, but her shy smile and quick retreat to her aunt’s side said enough.

Kisan glanced at Samira, and her heart lurched.

With a tip of his chin, he sipped the tea with enjoyment.

Moments later, Malik settled beside the Rider on the floor.

Samira, back from work for an early dinner with her family, was washing the plates at the sink.

Misandra was crocheting with Liora. Leaning on the older woman’s shoulder, she stuck her tongue between her lips in concentration as she learned a simple stitch.

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