Page 43 of Crave
The atmosphere was getting too thin to carry her words over the scream of alarms. But Sil smiled at her, opalescent eyes flashing with all the colors, and she knew he heard the song coming from her heart.
Roxy’s energy twinkled through the haze of smoke as the shuttle started to come apart around them. “Together.”
Crash.
Explosion.
Flames.
Darkness.
No more mistakes.
Chapter 14
“Sil. You must let go of her now.”
Despite the cajoling voice in Sil’s aching head, he wouldnotlet her go. He would never let her go.
“Kinsley, tell him it’s okay.”
A soft touch on his cheek. “I like him holding me.”
“Do you want to sleep in this wreckage?”
“Oh, fine.” Fingertips lightly patting. “Wake up, sleepyhead. You did it. You got us back. Just in time. TheDeepWandertook one shot at thePratorimand they ran off with their tail on fire. Literally.”
He’d never felt so weak, but he clamped his hand over hers.
Never let her go. The promise was a silent song in his head, but when she tangled her fingers through his, he knew she heard it too.
It took all his strength to open his eyes. Who knew eyes could be exhausted? There’d been a time when that realization would’ve stung, to know he was so puny. But he’d found the fortune he’d sought, hadn’t he?
He smiled up at Kinsley.
The curve of her lips trembled, her smoky gray-blue eyes shining, clear and bright with the mangled rubble of the shuttle smoldering around them. “Hey there.”
“I love you.”
She pressed her forehead to his. “And you’re the light that guides me home.”
He closed his eyes again with the peace of the i’lva whispering between them.
Whatever happened next, they were together.
***
A few rest cycles later, he made his way to his workroom. Kinsley paced beside him, one hand at his back. The analgesics for his broken lower arms made him a little wobbly still. But he didn’t mind the temporary infirmity, not when his unwavering hold had protected her during their crashlanding—especially when it meant she watched him and smiled at him and touched him all the time.
Roxy was back on its pedestal. Quiet sounds emerged from the datpad attached to it, musical tones tentatively moving through simple pentatonic scales, occasionally striking chords. It was learning to sing.
Kinsley settled him on a stool near the rock, and when she started to step away, he pulled her onto his lap.
“Your arms,” she protested. “I don’t want to disrupt the bone menders.”
“But I want to hold you.” He squeezed her. “It was too close, Kinsley.”
Snuggling down, she tucked her head under his tusks. “I love being close to you.”
