Page 28 of Second

“Are you going to eat that?” she asked softly, breaking the silence. Her voice wavered, not with fear but with uncertainty. She wasn’t sure if she was ready for his answer—if he would even giveone.

His head lifted slightly, the movement almost reluctant. Those piercing amethyst eyes finally met hers, and she felt the bond thrum in response. It wasn’t like a flare. It didn’t overwhelm her. But it was there, aquiet pull that tied her to him in ways that both terrified and exhilaratedher.

“I am not hungry,” he said finally, his deep voice low andeven.

Elara leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms as she studied him. “Not hungry or it doesn’t appeal?” She kept her tone light, hoping to chip away at the walls he seemed so determined to keep between them. “Because it looks like you’re trying to intimidate that plate into submission.”

His lips twitched, the barest hint of a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Food serves its purpose,” he said after a moment. “I do not eat for enjoyment.”

She tilted her head, asmall frown creasing her brow. “Do you enjoy anything?” The question slipped out before she couldstop it, but she didn’t regret it. If she didn’t push, she’d never get through tohim.

For a moment, Zar’Ryn didn’t respond. His gaze dropped to his hands, and she saw them curl into loose fists before relaxing again. When he finally spoke, his voice grew softer, as though he were speaking to himself as much as to her. “I enjoy the moments when I can protect what matters.”

Elara’s chest tightened. She wanted to press him, to ask what—or who—he thought he was protecting now. But she knew better than to press too hard. Instead, she let the moment settle between them, the quiet charged with the weight of things unsaid.

“You know,” she said after a pause, trying to shift the tone, “I’ve seen you fight. You’re damn near invincible with a blade in your hand. But you’re not going to convince me you can win a battle against dinner.”

That time, the corner of his mouth did lift, if only slightly. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to give her a flicker of hope. “The food is not the enemy, Elara,” he said, his tone dry but laced with a faint warmth.

“Good,” she replied, leaning forward with a small grin. “Because I’d really hate to have to rescue you from a plate of vegetables.”

The faint smile faded as quickly as it had appeared, but the tension in his shoulders eased, just a fraction. He picked up the fork, turning it over in his hand as though testing its weight. “You are persistent,” he said quietly, not quite a compliment but not an accusation, either.

“Yeah, well, Idon’t like being ignored.” Her voice softened, the humor giving way to something more serious. “Especially not after what we’ve been through. What we’ve done.”

That caught his attention. His gaze snapped back to hers, and she saw something flicker in his eyes—guilt, maybe, or hesitation. But there was something else, too, something deep and raw that made her heart skip abeat.

“I am not ignoring you,” he said, his voice low but steady. “I am trying to figure out… everything. The bond. The vows. My IW code. Where we go from here.”

Elara swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling in her chest. She hadn’t expected him to admit it so openly, and for a moment, she didn’t know how to respond. But then she nodded, her resolve hardening. “Then let’s figure it out together.”

His jaw tightened, and he looked away, the faint hum of the bond growing stronger as if in response to her determination. “It is not that simple,” he said after a moment. “The vows I have taken… the code I have lived by for centuries… none of it prepared me for this.”

“For me,” she said softly, the words hanging in the air betweenthem.

Zar’Ryn didn’t deny it. He met her gaze again, his eyes burning with an intensity that made her breath catch. “No. Nothing prepared me for you.”

Elara leaned forward, bracing her elbows on the edge of the table. The metal surface felt cool beneath her skin, asharp contrast to the heat simmering in her chest. She studied Zar’Ryn carefully, the way his hands rested stiffly against his thighs, his jaw locked tight. His gaze had dropped again, as if the weight ofher presence—and the bond pulsing faintly between them—was something he couldn’t bear to address.

She couldn’t let this silence stretch any longer. There was too much left unsaid, too much uncertainty hanging between them. If she didn’t speak now, the gap would only widen, and she wasn’t willing to let that happen.

“You know,” she began, her voice soft but steady, “when Jo’Nay told me about the vows he broke, Ididn’t really understand why they were such a big deal. They seemed… I don’t know. Arbitrary. Harsh, even.”

Zar’Ryn’s head lifted slightly at the mention of Jo’Nay, though he didn’t look at her. She saw his fingers flex, the tendons shifting under his skin, asmall but telling reaction.

“But I get it now,” Elara continued, her tone firming. “The vows weren’t just rules. They were a foundation for everything you’ve built your life on. Everything that made you… you.”

His shoulders stiffened, and she felt the faint hum of the bond sharpen, like a blade being drawn from its sheath. She pushed on, determined to make him understand she wasn’t trying to accuse him or belittle what he stoodfor.

“I know what they are,” she said, her voice gentler now. “The first vow is no mate. Intergalactic Warriors aren’t allowed to bond with anyone—not emotionally, not physically. No attachments, no exceptions.” She paused, watching for any reaction. His jaw tightened, but he didn’t speak.

“The second vow,” she went on, “is about the apples. About refusing anything that prolongs life beyond the four hundred years you’re given. You don’t take more time than you’ve earned. You face your Final Flight when it’s time.”

This time, Zar’Ryn’s gaze flicked up to meet hers, his amethyst eyes hard and unreadable. She held his gaze, refusing to backdown.

“The third vow,” she said, her voice steady despite the weight of his attention, “is no children. You’re not supposed to pass on your genes. The genetic modifications—everything that makes you who you are as a warrior—it’s not meant to be passed down. The Council made sure of that by altering your DNA.”

She took a breath, steadying herself for the last vow. The one that had weighed most heavily on Jo’Nay—and, she suspected, on Zar’Rynnow.

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