{Gait}

Korac fought his thoughts of Sagan throughout the day. He didn’t wish to disrupt her concentration from her errand. Come evening, he held back no longer. The guards made their rounds an hour ago, leaving only six hours for him and Sagan unhindered.

“Sorry, I’m late.”

Speak of the gorgeous devil.

Sagan stepped into his cell, hauling a trunk on her back. “I brought you—”

Korac swallowed her words with a kiss. She returned it with no regard for her burden. When he pulled away to let her breathe, her eyes opened lazily with a serene smile.

“Hi.” He smirked down at her.

“Hey.”

He almost expected their audience to interrupt them, but the bastard blockmate kept quiet all day.

She gently cleared her throat, redirecting the subject. “I brought you…” She peered over her shoulder at her pack. “…A few things.” Those purple eyes sparkled with mischief.

Korac helped Sagan slip out of the gear. On his knees, he opened the trunk and took it in. A gift. This was a gift. He smiled at her. “You went shopping?”

“I had some help.” She giggled at his arched brow. “I have no idea what’s in there.”

He took her hand and kissed her palm. “Anything is better than that.” Glaring at the ill-fitting jumpsuit on the floor, he willed it to incinerate.

Sagan’s precious giggle bubbled into laughter before sobering completely. “I wish we could stay this way.”

Six hours. Prolong her happiness—

The aroma of grilled mushrooms elicited a growl from his stomach as she opened a second, smaller pack. “Who made you so perfect? The food here barely passes for oatmeal.” He grabbed the first clothes off the top and hoped they sufficed for their dinner date.

“I’ll let Pehton know I won’t stand for her feeding my badass warrior oatmeal.” Light danced in her eyes as she watched him select clothes.

“I love the way you look at me, but you’ll get your show when I’m ready.” Korac grabbed an axe and headed to the frosted glass divider, constituting a bathroom.

As he dressed and tried to work with his shorter hair in the blade’s reflection, Sagan called to him, “I could bring you stuff to cozy the place up.”

The Icarus paused. The offer was genuine, but her tone implied deflection. Something happened.

Dinner first.

Korac rounded the corner, feeling like himself for the first time in two years. “Lucas helped with the clothes, didn’t he?”

Those purple eyes doubled in size. “How’d you know?”

“Devil’s in the details.”

They shared mushrooms. He purred his gratitude and smirked at her stories. But a light tension pulled at his shoulders the longer she avoided the situation.

“Sagan.”

She sucked a noodle through her lips and ducked her eyes.

He crooked a finger under her chin and raised her gaze to meet his. “You can tell me.”

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Swallowing, she confessed, “I met Razor. And you were right. He found me. Not the other way around.”

Korac nodded and left her the space to continue. He resented the incarceration, preventing him from helping her. Razor wasn’t some cult minion or simpering Tritan diplomat. He was something… other.

When Sagan finished recounting the story, he blew the air out of his cheeks. “It’s a good strategy. Setting him up to comfort you in order to break down his barriers.”

She snuggled her back against Korac’s front, sitting between his legs. “Yea. Too bad it didn’t work.” She turned to catch his gaze. “Korac?”

He brushed his knuckles down her arm. “Hmm?”

Shivering, she soldiered on through his attempt to distract her. “Tell me about the pain.”

“The pain and the control. I know Razor recognized it in you immediately and will work to coax it out. I know because it was done to me, and I did it to you. But I was careful and kept it within our trust. Trust makes a difference. He’s reckless and won’t care for your fragile mind. He’ll seek to break it. To break you.”

Now she trembled. Korac held her tight and kissed the top of her head while Sagan absorbed his words. “I want you to understand the risks I believe you’re considering. And understand the one to me if he does.”

Sagan turned around in his arms to face him with a question in her eyes. “Risk to you?”

“This prison will not hold me if he harms you.”

The only person who mattered to him straddled Korac for a kiss. Her warm hands ran under his shirt. Nails played at his skin. He purred and repaid in kind when she suddenly cried out, “Hey! I didn’t know Lucas saw you that night at Mercy’s compound in Phoenix.”

“Pardon?”

“This.” She bunched her hands in his shirt. “This is the exact outfit you wore that night.”

He grinned. “You remember my clothes in that much detail?”

“This girl likes her devil very much,” Sagan said with a cute blush. Then she frowned. “How did he know?”

The black shredded t-shirt and white jeans hardly seemed worth the fuss, but he admitted, “I only saw you and Kyle that night.”

Anger flashed in her eyes momentarily at the mention of the reformed Progeny’s treachery. Korac took both her hands in his and kissed her knuckles. “How many times did you read Nox’s Verse, Sagan?”

Her eyes refocused on him with warmth. “A few… dozen.” She smiled shyly.

“Then you know everyone’s personal story is complicated.” Was he defending Kyle? No. Was he trying to ease Sagan’s mind by lessening her anger at the Progeny male? Yes.

Worth the smile, too. “You’re right. I learned so much from it. I hope you don’t mind I read all those things about you.”

Learning that Nox knew of Korac’s relationship with Xelan after all that time almost killed the Icarean General. He liked his privacy, but feeling his King’s acceptance meant the worlds to him.

Korac smirked. “Spared me the trouble of telling you the stories myself.” A thought occurred to him. “But you need to take that book with you and hide it somewhere. Xelan’s stronghold would do.”

“Oh, why?”

“In the Vast Collective, it’s illegal to write of your own history. The Tritans funnel all history and education through the Reipon Lamias. For… conditioning. Nox’s Verse and Elden’s Verse are criminal offenses, and if you’re caught with them, you’ll be arrested for counter-indoctrination.”

Sagan’s eyes flashed. “Rayne’s back…”

He nodded. “Illegal when exposed.”

“Korac, at that awful bar… the promotion of Rayne’s pain—”

The Icarus gently cupped her cheek. “No, she’s fine. That’s not her selling it. Fame and infamy aren’t illegal. Self-promotion is.”

She pressed her face to his chest. “What do you think Rayne blacked out and tore out of his Verse?”

The book solved a few mysteries, but the black markings hid the rest. It surprised him to see how much of it protected Korac and his secret. He appreciated the sprite’s caution.

“Do you want to know what I’d tear out?”

Sagan nodded against him.

“Ammunition. Anything and everything which might be used against me. King Rayne has a lot of enemies now. She’s smart to keep certain things out of their hands. But Sagan?”

“Yes?”

“Have you thought about asking her, yourself?”

His woman’s body seized up, and her breath caught.

It was as he thought. “When was the last time you saw her?”

Sagan sniffed. “It’s hard… to see her like that. The mechanism…”

Korac rubbed a circle on her back. “Nothing I’d offer you would ease this grief. I only wish I could help.”

She straightened in his lap to stare in his eyes. “You do.”

He kissed her, and they worked off the mushrooms. With no interruptions from the blockmate.

After four hours, Sagan lamented, “I need to go. Lucas is making me meet with the Shadow once a week.”

“Stay connected. A schedule is good to maintain when working a dangerous mission.” So she was always expected.

She dressed. He watched, languid as a cat. She made a show of it for him. Prison wasn’t so bad.

“Can I get some of that food?”

Well, at least the blockmate waited six hours before intruding.

With a forgiving smile Korac did nothing to deserve, she kissed him goodbye.

“Wait, Sagan. You mentioned professional help. Who?”

“Remember the CoN compound in Little Rock. The whole razing it to the ground?”

Korac dipped his head to the side with a smirk that said, “Go on.”

Sagan beamed. “I’m good friends with the ones who did the razing.”

From down the hall, “I like the way she talks about arson. Girl’s got potential for marriage. You hear me? Hold on to her and don’t let go.”