When Aelyx had first learned to play sticks, an older clone had knocked him flat on his back to the unforgiving ground. More than pain, Aelyx remembered the panic of not being able to breathe. He’d opened his mouth and gaped for air, his eyes bulging and face throbbing for what seemed like an hour. He felt that way now, breathless and aching and utterly terrified.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I really tried.”
Aelyx wanted to speak, but his tongue lay dead. He knew how hard she’d fought. Her frustration was his own—he’d felt it.
“Nothing’s changed.” She cupped his cheek. “I still want this. I want my first time to be with you. Let’s have our perfect night and figure it out in the morning, okay?” Softly, she stroked the edge of his jaw and rose up to kiss his lips. “Please?”
His mind was swimming. Drowning. He had to gain some distance and think.
Rolling to the side, he pressed both palms to his eyes and tried to force the blood flow back to his brain. His body pleaded with him to give Cara what she wanted—he’d waited so long for this—but she would take a piece of him if they went any further, and as much as he loved her, he’d never get it back. If he walked away now, he’d spend the rest of the night with a leaden cramp in his belly, but that would hurt far less than a lifetime replaying the memory of joining himself with the only girl he’d ever loved.
“We’ll make it work,” Cara insisted. “We’ll find a way to see each other.”
Aelyx finally found his voice. “How often? Once every few years?” Their relationship would never survive the distance. The slow passage of time would drive them apart—and eventually into another pair of arms. Young as they were, it was as natural and inevitable as the rising of the sun.
“I don’t know, but at least I’m willing to try,” she snapped.
He pushed onto one elbow. She made it sound like he’d put no effort into their relationship. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Another tear spilled down Cara’s cheek as she jerked the blanket to cover her body. “It means I’ve practically turned myself inside out to make a life on your planet, but you won’t even consider staying on mine. There’s no compromise.”
“I can’t believe you think that.” He’d gladly stay on Earth if humans would stop trying to kill him all the damned time. But that was beyond his control. “The colony is supposed to be the compromise.”
“But it’s not. The Way isn’t giving humans an inch.”
“You’ve only been on the council a month. The charter isn’t even written yet.” Aelyx couldn’t believe she’d accused him of quitting too easily. “Maybe if you—”
“If I what?” she interrupted. “Work harder?”
“Yes!” He hadn’t meant to shout, but panic rushed through his veins.
“Why don’t you work harder?” she yelled back.
“What do you think I’ve been doing all these months?” Traveling from one city to the next, going to bed without knowing where he was. Dodging assassination attempts. Missing her like crazy. “I’ve been fighting nonstop for this alliance.”
“Only because you’re the reason it failed to begin with!”
The words stung, real as any slap. Not a day had passed since Eron’s death that Aelyx didn’t regret his role in sabotaging the alliance. “You think I’ve forgotten that I helped get my best friend killed?”
Cara bit her lip while her breath hitched, and Aelyx pinched the bridge of his nose to try and calm down. He didn’t want to do this. They were fighting dirty and getting nowhere.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “That wasn’t fair.”
Nothing about this was fair. “Is there a chance you might change your mind?”
“Is there a chance you might change yours?”
When he didn’t answer, she broke into fresh tears.
Slowly, and with great deliberation, Aelyx stood from the bed and picked through the trail of clothing on the floor until he’d dressed. Cara sobbed the whole time, causing his head to ache in unison with his feverish body. He couldn’t stay with her, not without breaking down. He had to escape as far as this luxury high-rise prison would allow.
“You can sleep here,” he told Cara, facing away because he couldn’t bear to watch her cry. “I’ll take the guest room.”
“Aelyx, please…” Her voice was thick with tears, threatening to break his slippery grasp on control. “Don’t go. Not yet. Let’s talk about this.”
He moved toward the door, though every cell in his body weighed him down and fought against it. “I’m not angry with you.” He paused with one hand squeezing the doorknob. “And I hope we can still be friends.”
Friend, the Irish translation of her name. How horribly, painfully prophetic.