Nova and Valen barely escaped Isroth with their lives and now they've crash-landed on an empty planet-no people, no tools to fix their ship. Nova has spent her life building and creating mechanics, but this is the most advanced vessel in the galaxy, and she can't figure out what's wrong with it. But maybe the crash was a blessing in disguise. They've seen their entire lives together, but this is the first real time they've ever had with one another. This is their chance to see if their future is worth fighting for, and if there is anything between them besides attraction and fate. On this empty planet, there is no fighting, no war, no conflict. Their days and nights are filled with uncertain glances, soft touches, and life-altering vows.What was once never a question is now a serious consideration: do they even want to fix the ship, or is this the beginning of a brand new, perfect life?
Chapter 1 1
"As far as I can tell, all the major connections to the core are intact," I say, wiping sweat from my brow. I've been crawling around down in the belly of the ship for over an hour, tangled in the mechanical guts of this beast, double and triple checking that every critical connection between the ship and the core is still working. "There are some cracks to the interior of the hull, but so far, all the majorly important parts of this ship are still functioning."
"So we can fix whatever is broken?" Valen asks. He's crouched on the floor of the mechanical room above me at the opening of the hatch, looking down into the tunnels I'm occupying.
My eyes rise to meet his. I shake my head and shrug. "That's the problem. I have no idea what's broken. I can't fix it if I don't know what to fix."
He extends a hand to me and pulls me up and out of the tunnel, back onto the floor of the room with him. "We will figure it out," he says, his tone reassuring. "There's a reason Cyrillius sent half the galaxy on a wild hunt for you. If he thinks you're the best, you can do this."
I look over at him, glaring darkly. I'm annoyed that I can't immediately tell what's wrong with the ship. I'm annoyed that this slam ship is so slam complicated and that I wasn't a good enough pilot to keep us from crashing here in the first place.
I turn away, facing the door, but I don't walk out just yet. "I'm sorry," I say quietly.
"For what?" he asks.
I take a deep breath, my eyes searching for answers without really seeing anything. "For being reckless. I guess that's something you should know about me. I don't exactly always think before I act. I'm sorry I thought taking this ship was a good idea. I'm sorry I thought I could handle it when obviously I couldn't. I'm sorry I'm not a good pilot. I'm sorry I got us lost and crashed us wherever the void we are."
Warm hands grab me from behind and I feel the heat of Valen warming the back of me. Gently, he turns me in place, making me look up at him. I feel heavy and worn down as I look up into his Neron-blue eyes.
"Survivors have to act fast," Valen says. "It's an evolutionary fact. Sometimes we make the right decisions in those snap moments, and sometimes we don't." The look in his eyes deepens. He brings a hand up to my cheek, caressing it. "Your quick thinking got us out of the Compound, Nova," he says. "Cyrillius has thousands of ships that could have taken us down in an ordinary ship. His soldiers are the best in the galaxy. If you hadn't stolen this exact ship, and if we hadn't somehow punched a hole through space, he would have won. We would be on Isroth right now, either locked in a cage, or being mentally twisted by his Kinduri."
My throat tightens with his words and it annoys me that my eyes well a little. I turn my face away from him, taking a hard breath, trying to regain control of myself.
But firm and gentle, Valen makes me look back at him. "Stop being afraid of yourself, Nova," he says softly. In his eyes I see acceptance. That I'm allowed to feel what I feel.
He can't be right, because he's done so many terrible things in his life. How can someone who's done so much bad be so right about my emotions?
Even so, his words reach me. I feel them. I need them.
So I let the tears come. And I wrap my arms behind his neck and I pull his face to mine.
We just crash-landed. I have no idea what all of this means for the future.
And it's insanity, the fact that I've only kissed this man twice before.
But I kiss Valen, with violence and desperation, even as I let the tears roll down my face and sobs escape my lips.
I cry and I kiss Valen, and Valen kisses me back and holds me like I'm going to shatter and his arms are the only things that can prevent it from happening.
He scoops me up into his arms, but he doesn't break the kiss and I don't release him. Like I weigh nothing at all, he walks across the mechanical room and maneuvers us through the doorway.
I don't know where he's taking us, but I close my eyes, letting the tears stream down my face in an unceasing river. I cling tighter to Valen. I deepen our kiss. I relish in the feeling of being safe and supported.
Dim light finds its way through the port window of the sleeping quarters. Gently, Valen climbs onto the bed, carefully lying me back where I'd woken just a few hours earlier.
I lay back, looking up into Valen's beautiful face, still keeping a firm grip on his tunic so he can't leave me. My heart cracks a little when I interpret the expression on his face.
Devotion. Protection. Acceptance.
Only one other person has looked at me this way. My father. I never doubted him, that he would take care of me, no matter the cost.
That's what I see in Valen's eyes. Which makes mine well even more.
He brushes a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch so gentle. "When was the last time you ate?"
I actually huff a laugh. It's so bizarre, this legendary Nero, taking such gentle care of me, asking when I last ate. "I...I have no idea, honestly. Not since before you got back to Isroth, probably."
"Stay here," he says. "Rest. I'm going to go find us something to eat."
My first instinct is to fight him, to tell him that I will help him, that he doesn't have to take care of me.
But I see it in his expression. He wants to do this.
And I think I want to let him.
"Okay," I agree softly.
He dips, pressing one soft kiss to my lips before he stands and heads to the door, to go see what there is to eat.
I pull the blanket up to my chest, curling up on my side, burrowing down in the surprisingly comfortable bed. My eyes fix on a place on the wall, but I'm not seeing its dull gray surface.
My mind is spinning, reeling, thinking of all the ramifications of the past twelve hours.
Cyrillius knows I'm a Nero. He knows Nymiah is a Nero.
Did she and Zayne and Edan get away? Are they somewhere safe?
What do they all think happened to me?
And...Dad...
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