Tameka waited between the locker room and the dormitory space Xelan had arranged as comfortable barracks. Exhausted, sore, but no longer bleeding, she used every ounce of energy she possessed to stay upright. Glad everyone finally came to their damned senses, she allowed everything else on her mind some time to compartmentalize. Her parents? She couldn’t wait to hear from Caedes’ men about their well-being. Her entire life spiraled into an apocalyptic event? Better after seeing how carefully Xelan had prepared for everything. But overall? Iffy. School? Nope. Forget school. Officially out. Tameka kinda wish she’d graduated, though. Her friends? Here and accounted for, mostly. Poor Nikki.

Rayne had confirmed their worst fears about the petite young woman. The moment of silence they’d shared in her honor held an undercurrent of electricity. Nox was a piece of shit, and if there wasn’t already a really long fucking line to kick his ass, Tameka would take care of him herself. She still might if he didn’t back the fuck off.

“Tameka?” Xelan called.

And there’s the other reason she wanted to kill the King of Cinder. Xelan had grown up with that monster. What kind of hell was that like? Tameka shuddered before straightening her coveralls. She needed to figure out the whole post-apocalyptic wardrobe thing. Fast. She popped her head around the corner and whisper-shouted, “Hey!” Were his eyes tight? His shoulders slumped? Should she ask what’s wrong?

Xelan pointed at the doors and explained, “Oh, the rooms are soundproof. Otherwise, the constant activity from the hangar would keep you awake.”

Tameka smiled. He’d really thought of everything. “Thank you,” she said with a wealth of genuine gratitude.

“I didn’t want you guys getting spotty sleep—”

Tameka rested her hands on Xelan’s shoulders and pressed her face to his chest. Asking him what was wrong could wait. “Thank you,” she repeated. This Icarus had done so much for them over the last four years, and it culminated into this installation. Throughout their nightmare of an afternoon, she kept reflecting on his face as they evacuated while everyone thought he was a traitor.

They didn’t deserve Xelan, and he’d stayed, anyway. Tameka loved him for it. She wanted him to know he was loved, if only through this one gesture. She would not throw herself at him, but if this was the closest she ever got to telling him while faced with all this mortality, at least she did this much.

In a soft voice, Xelan spoke her name and folded Tameka into his arms. She lit up from head to toe. She wanted to explain herself, but before she began, his lips brushed the top of her head. “I’m sorry,” he breathed against her hair.

Any residual tension from their interaction in the van left Tameka, and whatever tension Xelan was carrying left him. She eased against him and breathed in the soft, leathery scent of him.

Forever.

Tameka could stay here forever. To her dismay, he shifted and pried her away, just a little.

She said, “You’re forgiven,” while unable to look at him. A tightness moved into her chest.

“Can I show you something?”

Okay. Nothing would pique Tameka’s curiosity more than what Xelan might want to share with her. She met his beautiful, midnight eyes, warm with his smile, and gave a firm, “Yes.”

Xelan took Tameka’s hand and led her away. She glanced back at the room she was sharing with Sagan and Rayne. It’s probably better for them to be alone, anyway. Past the locker room, past the infirmary, and through the side hangar, Tameka followed until Xelan stopped at the bank of elevators. He called them and then turned back to her. His eyes sparkled, his smile was infectious, and his relaxed demeanor was something to cherish.

Tameka asked, “Where are we going?”

“Well, I guess it’s a surprise.” Xelan actually popped his brows.

Her heart skipped a beat.

The door opened. He led her inside and pressed the tenth-floor button. The last floor.

Xelan said, “It’s my favorite spot in the installation,” as he unclasped a walkie-talkie from his hip. He spoke into it. “Wingmaster to Lux. Over.”

Tameka fought not to snicker at his code name.

The elevator opened, and he swept her right across to a stairwell with a sign which read: Roof Access. Lux came on the line. “Copy, Wingmaster. Over.”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Lux, nighttime in sixty seconds. Over.”

“Roger, Wingmaster. Over and out.”

“Nighttime?” Tameka asked. What was Xelan up to?

He hurried across the roof to a stainless steel cabinet, grinning like an idiot. She would not trade this for the world. They had to take these moments when they could find them. There was no way of knowing what tomorrow might bring.

“You’ll see,” Xelan promised. Out of the storage cabinet, he retrieved an actual blanket. Huh. He waved Tameka over as he spread it out on the roof. “Hurry or you’ll miss the best part.”

Smiling with him, Tameka rushed to his side. Xelan laid all that length of his finely honed body out on the blanket, and she tried to remain focused as she laid out beside him. His hair even fanned around him like wings. This was not a date. This was just a cutesy thing he’d gotten up to. She chose not to read too much into it, or it might bite her in the ass later.

Tameka took one breath. Two. And then the lights in the entire installation went out at 11:00PM. The entire thing was pitched into darkness.

Tameka pushed to sit up. It was too close to the claustrophobia of Fair. With the lights out and the smoke which pressed in, threatening to suffocate her. Before the panic attack settled in, a very hot—and Tameka meant that in so many ways—hand clasped hers. She glanced at him. “Xelan?”

“Look at the sky,” he said, almost hushed.

Xelan’s eyes never left Tameka as she glanced at the almighty cosmos. It left her breathless. The sky looked like a deep, inky carpet that someone dropped a bunch of diamonds on, dust and all, and spread them out. She’d seen a lot of images like this on the Internet, but never in real life. There had always been too much light pollution.

Xelan shook her hand a little. “Breathe,” he whispered.

Tameka did to say, “It’s beautiful.” Understatement. Even through Nox’s Sphere was surrounding the entire planet, the view was gorgeous.

Xelan still stared at Tameka. She didn’t mind, but she was curious what he was thinking. She peeled her eyes off the universe to stare into his. For a long time, they let the sky settle between them without speaking. He gazed at her, and she gazed at him.

Then, he said, “I tried to stay away from you.” His voice sounded soft, and a trace of sadness underlined his words.

“Why?” Before Tameka stopped herself, she reached out and swept a strand of hair from Xelan’s face with her free hand. On a sharp intake of breath, she closed her eyes when he shifted closer to her. The kiss was the lightest brush on her lips, soft, warm. More. She wanted more.

Tameka tried to press, but Xelan pulled away. “Shh… Slow,” he purred.

She let out her breath and thanked all the deities she knew that she’d brushed her teeth while she’d waited on him.

Gentle and slow, Xelan took Tameka’s bottom lip into his mouth. She whimpered against him. The slow torture. The sweet torment of it. He gave soft, tantalizing hints to what he might be capable of with more delicate skin. His tongue flicked against her. She shivered and parted her lips to let him inside. He accepted the invitation and her toes curled as their lips explored one another. The spearmint of his breath mingled with the spicy taste of him. Finally, she’d got to know what this was like.

Pain lanced through her, and she broke the kiss on a wince. Tameka opened her mouth to ask what was wrong, and instead she said, “‘Thank you for finally seeing me. All I ask is that you not waste time with the next love. See them and know them. Be with them. Know that I am… always… with you.’”

Tameka laid back on the pallet with tears streaming down her face. She dared not open her eyes, and proper fear iced her veins.

Xelan asked a little unsteady, “Tameka? Look at me.”

She said, “I’m so sorry.” The entire mood was ruined. The weird genetic memory shit Tameka didn’t understand had left her body like an empty husk. Who was she?

“It’s okay. Please open your eyes.” Xelan’s voice came steady this time, soothing, even.

Tameka opened them and peered up at him. He’d sat up during the ordeal. At the concern on his face, she cried, “Oh no! I’m so sorry.”

Xelan shook his head, long hair sweeping his shoulders, a little messy from their session. “It’s not at all your fault.” He laid back down beside her, and she tracked his movements.

Tameka stared at him from inches away. “I don’t know what happened, but it couldn’t have come at a worse—”

Xelan put his finger on her lips, saying, “None of that.” He removed his finger to pull one of her curls straight and then release it to spring back into a coil again. “You know how genetic memories are. While I wished it was any other memory I had of Merit than that one, it’s not something you can control.”

Tameka reached out, traced his face with her fingers, and asked, “Do you know why it happened at that moment?”

Xelan said, “In all my time following the Progeny line, you are the first one to be so similar to her ancestor. That was a—” he choked a little “—painful memory for me. But I don’t think Merit saw it that way. She meant so much to me. We’d only had a brief time together when she saved my life. It’s hard not to carry the guilt of her sacrifice. But she was right.” Xelan took Tameka’s hand and held it to his chest. Tameka’s heart pounded. “I struggle to move on from things.” He rested his free hand against her neck, over the veins and artery. Did he feel them flutter against his slender fingers? “I want this. Let’s go slow. Can we do that?” he asked.

Was Tameka about to cry? The emotion caught in her throat and threatened to spill over her lashes. She swallowed. Fucking emotions. Her voice cracked as she said, “Yes, but promise me something, please.” In for a penny…

Xelan said, “I’ll do my best.” His eyes shone a little too bright. Was he about to cry?

Tameka wouldn’t be able to bear it. Feeling brave, she asked, “Promise me that as long as we’re here, we’ll spend the last of each night this way?”

The smile Xelan graced her with melted Tameka on the spot. “I’d like that. And, if you want, I modeled the bases, identically. We can sleep out every night.”

Tameka snuggled a little closer, and he welcomed her. She glanced back at the sky, asking, “Will you teach me the constellations?”

Xelan chuckled, a deep, warm sound. “A little at a time.”

She could stand to learn a few more things. All in good time.