The Blood Traitor

“I want to apologize for what happened last night — for what I did, and for what I said.” She slid the topaz ring from her finger and handed it to him, careful not to touch his skin as she dropped it into his palm. “I know that must have been uncomfortable for you, not just the angeldust part because of everything with your mother — and just to say, I — well — you now know I’ve had some problems with it in my recent past” — she hugged her elbows awkwardly — “but I didn’t choose it because I wanted to choose it. As I said last night, the Mystican saw it was one of my greatest fears, and she exploited that.” Kiva winced at the unspoken mention of what her other greatest fear was, and hurried to add, “So to clarify, it’s not something I’m tempted to partake of willingly in the future, in case that’s a concern.”

Aware that she was flubbing her speech, she quickly went on, knowing the next part would be even more challenging. “As for everything I said about you, I think it’s best if we both try to forget, um, all of that.” She winced again at her poor articulation, before making herself meet his gaze. In the back of her mind, she noted that his face wasn’t blank and emotionless like it had been for most of their journey, but she couldn’t afford to think about that, and only said, with bald honesty, “Drugged or not, it wasn’t fair for me to heap that on you. You’ve made your feelings clear, and I fully respect what you told me. The last thing I want is your pity, so please don’t —” Her voice cracked, but she coughed and continued, stronger now, “I just think it’s best if we put it behind us, and move forward as if it never happened.” She took a fortifying breath and finished, repeating some of what Caldon had said earlier that day. “It’s a small ship, and even once we’re on dry land again, we still have to be near each other until this is all over. But I promise that once we have the rings, and Zuleeka and Navok are out of the picture, you’ll get your wish and never have to see me again.”

“It’s good to know my training’s paying off,” he said, passing her a basket of warm rolls.

“Sorry?” Kiva asked, busy trying to calm her nerves.

“I’ve never seen you run as fast as you did today.”

Kiva grimaced and turned to him with an apology on her tongue, only to see the laughter in his eyes. She pulled a face, causing him to chuckle.

“Are you good?” he asked. “Or should we anticipate another mad dash?”

“I’m good,” she promised, taking a cautious bite and nearly moaning at the soft, buttery flavor of the dough. “I may have . . . overreacted, earlier today.”

Caldon held up his thumb and forefinger, pressing them together. “Just a smidge.”

Jaren.

He did a double take when he saw her, and said something quickly to the short, dark-skinned captain, before heading straight for where she and Caldon stood.

Kiva made an alarmed sound and blurted out a nonsensical, “Headache. Sleep. Now. Later.” Then she ran from Caldon, ignoring his frustrated voice calling after her. All she knew was that she couldn’t face Jaren. Not yet. So she hurriedly retraced her steps from earlier, almost tumbling back down the narrow stairs before somehow finding the boxy cabin she’d awoken in. More alert now, she realized there were two small beds, not one, but she didn’t spare a thought to who her bunkmate was, slamming the door and locking it, then sliding down with her back resting against the wood.

A moment later, there was a loud knock, followed by the sound of the handle rattling.

“Kiva, let me in.”

Jaren’s command caused her racing heart to stutter. She was frozen, unable to think of anything but the previous night and everything she’d said while under the influence of the angeldust.

“Please, Kiva,” he said, his voice muffled by the wood. “We need to talk.”

But Kiva didn’t want to talk. She knew why he was there — because he was Jaren. Last night, she’d shared too much, and now he knew exactly what she was feeling.

Knowing he wants nothing to do with me kills me. Every time I look at him, I feel like I can’t breathe.

Kiva closed her eyes as renewed embarrassment swept over her.

I’m in love with him, can you believe it?

She covered her face and drew her knees up to her chest, wishing she could go back in time, wishing she could forget.

But wishes were for fools. So Kiva just sat there, waiting until she heard a quiet sigh and then his footsteps moving away. Only then did her tension fade, her shoulders slumping as her adrenaline fled, the pain in her temples now shrieking. But she didn’t move, didn’t try to get more comfortable. Instead, she attempted to piece together her heart, knowing it was impossible — because it had just walked away.