Page 68 of Sheltered in the Storm

I opened my mouth to tell him I didn’t know what love was, but that wasn’t true. I’d recognized it, so I must know. So where did this terrible ache come from?

Maybe the part of my heart that was terribly—and I feared irrevocably—broken.

“I don’t think I can love you, or anyone,” I said, my voice rough. “I’m sorry.”

I had no idea what he would say or do. I thought maybe he’d coo, or he’d argue with me, or he might be angry.

Instead, he held me against his chest. I burrowed my face against his skin. His scent had become a balm for me even when my hurts threatened to carry me away. His bioluminescence pulsed faintly along with his heartbeats, so strong and even. My stomach still churned, but I found my own heart slowing and my aches easing as I listened to that familiar, reassuring sound.

It was a long, long time before he spoke.

“Five standard years, three lunar cycles, and five days ago,” he said softly, “I completed my final assignment for the Silent Guard.”

My breath caught in my chest.

With his arms around me and his head resting against mine, Vos told me the story of the death of the Kurutan Ambassador N’Vors.

He tried to keep his tone even, but I heard the strain in his voice and felt the tension in his body as he described the impossible choice he’d faced about whether to fire his weapon and risk killing the ambassador’s child, and then how terribly wrong his mission had gone thanks to an unknown killer or killers.

Why he had chosen to tell me this story now, I wasn’t sure, but if I could take some of his hurt away by listening, I would. And I held him tightly until the story ended and he went quiet.

“N’Vors gave their life to save their child,” I said quietly. “Or in the hope that they might save them.”

“Yes.” He kissed my hair. “I do not know what N’Vors’s final thoughts were, but I imagine they were a prayer for their child—that if they did live, their life would be good.”

Such incredible selflessness. I swallowed hard around the lump in my throat. “Did you know the child’s name?”

“No. I do not speak Kurutan, and I did not inquire.” He took a deep breath, his gills fluttering, and let it out. “I wished the past to be past.”

Gods, if only it could. “Did you ever find out whatLa ka nameans?” I asked.

“Yes.” His tentacles caressed me, but I thought it more for their comfort than mine. “It meansAre you an angel, or something similar to that. There is no direct translation to Alliance Standard. The people of Kuruta believe divine aspects of their gods walk among them, and intervene to save the lives of certain people when their lives have special meaning. If I had known at the time what it meant, I would not have answered in the affirmative.”

“Oh.” The lump in my throat grew into an ache. “Youwerethat child’s angel that day. They lived because of youandN’Vors.”

“I am no angel.” Now he sounded almost savage. “Not by any metric, my Calla.”

“Who are you to say?” I countered, my voice soft to counter his harshness. “The universe is vast. We understand so little about our own existence. And maybe all that matters is that you were there and you saved that child’s life, even though doing so put yours at risk. You had all those years of Guard indoctrination and training and brutality, but you couldn’t leave a child to die. Your soul is good, Vos. It’s so good.”

When he didn’t reply, I raised my head and put my palm on his chest above his hearts. His expression was grave, his eyesdark with memories. I imagined my own eyes often looked similar.

“Choices,” I said.

He blinked twice. Whatever he’d expected me to say, that wasn’t it.

“Fate, or the universe, or chance, may put us in a certain place at a certain time,” I told him. “Exactly how our lives unfold, I don’t know, but we make choices too. N’Vors made theirs. You made yours. And yours was good and kind. And…loving.” My voice trailed off.

Oh. Now I understood why he’d wanted to tell me that story, besides the fact the events of that day haunted him, and he believed I could ease that pain by listening.

I knew as much or as little about the Silent Guard as anyone who’d served in the Alliance Defense, but it was common knowledge the details of their missions were confidential to the extreme. By revealing this to me, he had broken his vows to the Guard—and made himself subject to their deadly retribution if anyone ever found out.

He leaned his forehead against mine. “My Calla, N’Vors acted out of love. That is what I saw when I beheld their body and heard the cry of their child. I had never known love, but I recognized it, and it compelled me to carry the child to safety. N’Vors’s loving sacrifice gave their child life, and gave me hope. And because I had hope, I followed your scent to the raiders’ boat and brought you home.”

And so, in a roundabout way, N’Vors’s loving sacrifice had led to this moment, when I lay in Vos’s arms asking myself if love was real and if my battered heart could be capable of it.

The enormity of that realization left me stunned into silence.

Vos cupped my cheek with his hand. “Do you fear loving and being loved, because love makes you vulnerable? As long as you are my Calla and I am your Vos, your love is safe with me.” Hestudied me. “Or do you not believe you are worthy of love? Because if it is the latter, I will spend the rest of my life proving you are wrong, if that is what I must do.”

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