The planet was hanging on, but not for long.
The citizens of the capital were all inside their ramshackle homes. The previous night Nor had issued a mandatory curfew for their protection. She wasn’t doubting her plan—hell forbid a ruler who did—but if something went wrong, she knew her planet would be targeted once again. Hiding inside their homes wouldn’t protect her people, she knew, but it would give them a false sense of security.
Sometimes illusions were better than nothing at all.
Looking off into the distance, she could see green fog rolling in over the cracked mountains. It drifted toward the city, flowing over the ground like death. One could always see it coming, but the fog took its time arriving.
Nor was so transfixed by the sight that she almost cried out when warm hands grazed her shoulders from behind.
“Nhatyla.” Even though Zahn said only one word, his deep voice soothed her.
“Zahn.” She turned toward him, grasping his hands as if he were an anchor. As if, should she ever let go, she would drift toward the green fog that seemed to be waiting to devour her.
Zhan looked at their interwoven hands and furrowed his dark brows.
“What’s wrong, my beautiful Nhatyla?” He brought her hands to his lips, kissing her knuckles, including her gold prosthetic.
He’d accepted her as she was, from the very start.
And never once had she tried to compel him to be anything but himself.
“I don’t know,” Nor said, exhaling a long, deep breath in the hope that it would expel the sadness. “I should be overjoyed that today has finally come. We’ve worked so hard for this moment, Zahn. For years, I’ve imagined it. But now that it’s here, all I feel is anguish.”
Zhan leveled his gaze at hers as if he saw her soul. She allowed him. It was the only way she was certain she still had one.
“They would be so proud of you, Nor,” he said, and she knew Zhan was talking about her parents.
He’d grown up in this crumbling palace beside her, before the bombs went off. A young guard’s son hiding in the shadows, watching her with his knowing eyes.
She’d never truly noticed him until after the bombs had dropped. Until he had pulled her from the rubble, dust coating his dark hair and skin, blood dripping from his mouth.
You’ll be okay, Princess, he’d said. A boy of ten, his voice soothing, the only thing she could focus on as the world burned around them. He’d wrapped her mangled hand in his own coat. Shortly after, she lost consciousness from blood loss, and when she’d finally woken, days later in a dark underground bunker, her hand missing, her father dead, Zahn had been there.
Stay, she’d begged him.
He had that day, and all the days that followed.
Her silent strength. Her shoulder to lean on in the shadows, when the pressure of being the queen of a damned world became too much to bear. When her nightmares tried in vain to destroy her.
A silent tear rolled down her cheek now as she thought of the past. Her father’s bright smile, her mother’s gentle touch. She hadn’t truly known her mother; she had only fragmented memories of a woman who looked just like her.
Yet, strangely, it was her mother’s voice that visited Nor so often in her dreams. Stranger still that Nor found solace when her mother’s distant voice entered her mind, echoing on that fateful day of Xen Ptera’s destruction.
I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.
“Nor,” Zahn said, drawing her back to him now. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
He sat down beside her on the ruined stone bench.
“I’m afraid,” she whispered. Her heart clenched, and she wished now more than ever that she could defeat the Unified Systems with her parents by her side. What would Xen Ptera have become if they had survived? If they had all put their strength together and destroyed the worlds beyond as one? “What if I fail?”
“You won’t,” Zahn said. He chuckled, the sound out of place in this ruined land. “Do you remember what you said to me once?”
“I’ve said a lot of things,” Nor admitted.
He tugged playfully at her hair. “When you were twelve, you took me to the highest room of your tower.”
“To see if we could find the stars,” Nor said, remembering that night. She’d finally fully healed from the explosions. It was her father’s birthday, and she wanted to honor him by searching for his favorite constellation.
“When we got up there, the sky was so thick with fog that we couldn’t see them at all,” Zahn said. “You threw a fit that drew the attention of the entire palace. And then, once Darai came up to calm you down, you ended up standing with your back to the glass, the entire planet as your backdrop as you gave a speech worthy of a queen.”
Nor smiled at that. She’d been so young then, so rash. “What does this have to do with my fear of what’s to come?”
He kissed her cheek and chuckled again, his breath hot on her face. “You stood there all by yourself, your chin high, and you told the entire palace staff that someday you’d give them back the stars. ‘They’ll be so bright, you’ll hardly be able to look upon them.’”
He pulled back to watch her closely. His eyes shone with all the love in the world. She felt it deep within her, a soothing tincture that touched her soul. “You will, Nhatyla. You’ll give us all back the stars and more.”
A tear slipped down her cheek.
He kissed it away.
He was too good for her.
Too pure.
“This is the fulfillment of your promise to your parents. To your people,” Zahn said, taking her hand in his again. “Ever since we were young, I have seen you mourn your losses, but at the same time, you grow from them. Vengeance has been a driving force in your life, and now that it is within your grasp, you’re left feeling empty. But not for long, my queen. There are plenty of ways to fill the gap.” He pulled her into his strong embrace. His heart beat to the rhythm of hers as he whispered, “This part of your life may be coming to an end, but a whole new adventure is starting.”
“And what of your future?” Nor asked, gazing at him. “What will you do, Zahn Volknapp?”
She could nearly taste him on her lips as he drew closer.
“You are my future,” he whispered. “I will follow you, from this world and to all the others beyond. I’ll be there by your side as the people bow before you and sing your name.”
He nipped her ear with his teeth.
Lust tumbled through her.
“And in the quiet moments, when we are alone,” Zahn whispered, drawing her ever closer, until she was on his lap, his mouth against her lips, “I will bow to you, too, my queen.”
“What about now?” she asked.
In that moment, she could feel the sadness slowly leaving her body, power taking its place.
“Now?” Zahn echoed.
His lips moved down her neck, igniting a fire inside of her.
“Now, my queen, I think I am tired of words.”
Chapter Seventy-Three
* * *
ANDROMA