She clenched her jaw shut and allowed Kai to take her shoulders, his thumbs tender against her collarbone. “I’m sorry about what happened at the ball. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. I’m sorry I … I said those things.”
Cinder looked away. Though so much had changed between them since that night, it still felt like an ice pick in her heart when she remembered the way he’d looked at her, and his horrified words: You’re even more painful to look at than she is.
“It doesn’t matter anymore. You were in shock.”
“I was an idiot. I’m ashamed at how I treated you. I should have had more faith in you.”
“Please. You barely knew me. Then to find out all at once that I’m cyborg and Lunar … I wouldn’t have trusted me either. Besides, you were under a lot of stress and—”
He tipped forward and kissed her on the forehead. The gentleness stilled her.
“You were still the girl who fixed Nainsi,” he said. “You were still the girl who warned me about Levana’s plans. You were still the girl who wanted to save her little sister.”
She flinched at the mention of Peony, her younger stepsister. Her death was a wound that hadn’t fully healed.
Kai’s hands slipped down her arms, interlacing with her fingers—flesh and metal alike. “You were trying to protect yourself, and I should have tried harder to defend you.”
Cinder gulped. “When you said I was even more painful to look at than Levana…”
Kai inhaled sharply, like the memory of the words hurt him as much as it hurt her.
“… do I … did I look like her? Does my glamour look like hers?”
A crease formed between his brows, and he stared at her, into her, before shaking his head. “Not exactly. You still looked like you, just…” He struggled for a word. “Perfect. A flawless version of you.”
It was clear that it wasn’t meant as a compliment.
“You mean, an unnatural version of me.”
After a hesitation, he said, “I suppose so.”
“I think it was instinct,” she said. “I didn’t realize I was using a glamour. I just knew I didn’t want you to know I was a cyborg.” A wry chuckle. “It seems so silly now.”
“Good.” He tugged her close again. “We must have made progress.”
His lips had just brushed hers when the door opened.
“Got everything we need?” said Thorne, chipper as ever. Iko, Cress, and Wolf filed in after him.
Kai dropped Cinder’s hands and she took a step back, adjusting her tool belt. “The pod’s ready. Triple-checked. There shouldn’t be any surprises.”
“And the guest of honor?”
“I have everything I came with,” said Kai, indicating his rumpled wedding clothes.
Iko stepped forward and handed Kai a box labeled PROTEIN OATS. “We have a gift for you too.”
He flipped it over to the child’s game printed on the back. “Yum?”
“Open it,” said Iko, bouncing on her toes.
Prying open the top, Kai turned it over and dumped a thin silver chain and a medallion into his palm. He lifted it up to eye level, inspecting the rather tarnished insignia. “‘The American Republic 86th Space Regiment,’” he read. “I can see why it made you think of me.”
“We found it in one of the old military uniforms,” said Iko. “It’s to remind you that you’re one of us now, no matter what happens.”
Kai grinned. “It’s perfect.” He looped the chain around his neck and tucked the medallion under his shirt. He gave Cress a quick farewell embrace, then pulled Iko into a hug. Iko squeaked, frozen.
When Kai pulled away, Iko looked from him, to Cinder, then back. Her eyes suddenly rolled up into her head and she collapsed onto the floor.
Kai jumped back. “What happened? Did I hit her power button or something?”
Frowning, Cinder took a step closer. “Iko, what are you doing?”
“Kai hugged me,” said Iko, eyes still closed. “So I fainted.”
With an awkward laugh, Kai turned to face Cinder. “You’re not going to faint too, are you?”
“Doubtful.”
Kai wrapped his arms around Cinder and kissed her, and though she wasn’t used to having an audience, Cinder didn’t hesitate to kiss him back. An impractical, uncalculating part of her brain told her to not let go. To not say good-bye.
The light mood was gone when they separated. He set his brow against hers, the tips of his hair brushing her cheeks. “I’m on your side,” he said. “No matter what.”
“I know.”
Kai turned to face Wolf last. He lifted his chin and adjusted his fine shirt. “All right, I’m ready when you—”
The punch hit Kai square in the cheek, knocking him back into Cinder. Everyone gasped. Iko jerked upward with a surprised cry as Kai pressed a hand against his face.
“Sorry,” said Wolf, cringing with guilt. “It’s better when you don’t see it coming.”
“I somehow doubt that,” said Kai, his words slurred.
Cinder pried his hand away to examine the wound, which was flaming red and already beginning to swell. “You didn’t break the skin. He’s fine. It’ll bruise up nicely by the time he’s back on Earth.”