{Gait}

Bone formed first. Followed by… Ew organs and veins. Muscle. Skin.

Eyes.

They were closed. But Tameka recognized enough of the Icarus to know their color. Knew his lips intimately. His beautiful cheekbones and jaw.

Hair. That long thick black hair. It smelled of musty old books.

Tears choked her. The hope that fueled Tameka these last two years all but snuffed out. Her heart beat heavier with his first breath.

“X e l a n!”

“Nox! Don’t!” Xelan burst upright in the casket in a terrible fit of panic.

Someone held Tameka by the biceps because she almost went down. Tumu gripped Xelan by the shoulders and tried to gain his focus. They murmured to one another. Meanwhile, she blinked wide while someone—who else was in the cell? She forgot—kept her upright.

“Xe—Xelan. Xelan.” The name that twisted a knife in Tameka’s heart at the very mention. The first word she taught Pax. Tattooed in gold on her hip. Nope. She never shared that with anyone and never planned to. He was—

“Tameka.”

“Xelan.”

She couldn’t hazard a look at the Icarus she last saw preparing to kill himself to save them from his brother’s clutches. Even when the man carefully cupped her cheek. Not until he put those black eyes with their midnight blue ring right in her line of sight. And grinned.

The hands around her let go as she jumped and clung to him inside the casket. He matched her strength, knowing she needed it in that moment. Always that way. Hands down, Xelan gave the best hugs. So warm. So full of his faith in Tameka.

Oh, they both cried. She swore she even heard one or two sniffles from their audience. Eventually, she rasped against his hair, “I never lost hope I’d see you again.”

“That’s because you make anything possible, Tameka.”

Such a cheesy thing to say. A wonderful, beautiful, completely cheesy thing—

“I’m naked.”

Even better thing to say.

Tameka pressed her lips to Xelan’s ear. “I don’t mind.”

He chuckled warmly against her. That perfect laugh.

“Nor I.” Tumu earned the laugh he stole from her.

Korac. Korac was the other person with them. He coughed.

Right. He wouldn’t mind, either. And there was an apocalyptic situation.

Sounding ever the Prince, Xelan demanded coolly, “Clothes.” He caught them with one arm and dressed, keeping his eyes on Tameka.

She also didn’t want to give up this moment just yet. “We worried Korac’s clothes wouldn’t fit…” She refused to finish that sentence with “Nox.” She left it open to prevent an untimely discussion of the state of things.

Once more in that cool tone meant for the other Icarus, Xelan explained, “We were always the same size.”

“Oh.”

“Although, we never exactly shared the same taste.” Korac’s voice held a harder edge than before the resurrection.

Tameka stepped back to gaze at her lover. The leather kilt suited him. The lack of a shirt even more so. She smothered a smile until Xelan snuck her a wry one.

Korac groaned behind her. “Ugh. Please. While congratulations are in order, we have other concerns. Like Pehton—”

“Gait’s warden?”

“—Is still very much in peril. And why were you in this casket? Since when are you the most dangerous warrior in the galaxy?”

Tameka released Xelan and turned to find Tumu smiling at the other boys. Beaming, even. She couldn’t remember the last time she saw—Oh. It was when he introduced Lamassau to the Shadow and they made out.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

The guys bickered as she pointed at Tumu. “The Chef was right to make you jealous, you cheater!”

The lack of brows did not mean Tumu couldn’t furrow his forehead in surprise. His mouth dropped to the floor.

Even Xelan frowned in shock. “You met Lamassau? I thought he was a myth.”

“Peaches, I don’t think we need to mention this to Lammy—”

“People are in danger!” Korac snarled so loud the rest of them stopped talking.

Tameka felt a little abashed. And the other two looked properly scolded.

The Icarus continued his reprimand, “We will catch up later. First, we help Pehton. Free the slaves in Razor’s Emporium—yes, we’re overthrowing him. And find Sagan. The next person to derail us from our mission, I will personally funnel into that casket and leave here myself.”

Silence.

“Good. Now—”

There wasn’t a metaphor to describe the sound that interrupted Korac. An explosion and the world splitting in half all-in-one. Violent vaulting and rocking jarred the basement all around. The walls crumbled with it.

They fell to their knees with hands over their heads while the prison collapsed around them. Wait it out. Safer to move after the quake.

But it didn’t stop.

Tameka shouted over the falling slabs. “What’s happening? Is this normal on Gait?”

Tumu checked the device in his palm. “We need off this planet.”

Korac growled. “Are you fucking serious?”

Xelan laughed in only the way the eternal optimist laughs in the face of disaster. “This is perfect.” He squeezed Tameka against his side. She was fine with the world ending this way.

They ran.

Korac commanded them to stop the lift on Infernus block. She assumed for his belongings, but he forced Tumu to press a big red button instead. “We can’t let them die this way.”

Xelan gaped at his ex. A lot of explaining to do, and Tameka couldn’t cover it all on her own.

“There are more switches down that hall and one down this one. We’ll meet back at the lift.” Korac certainly knew the prison’s layout.

Holding hands, they took off to the farther switches, and Tameka dodged two slabs of rock. At this rate, she’d declare herself a professional apocalypse survivor. Xelan smashed the switch when they found it and narrowly missed being crushed to death.

Tumu called from the lift, “Come on. We have to go!”

Now. She was doing this now.

Tameka tugged on his hand to stop him. “Xelan, I have to tell you something.”

He turned and gave her his complete, undivided attention. “Tell me anything.”

Another slab of rock collapsed. “Even though it’s not a good time?”

“Especially. Because I know you well enough to know this must be important.”

Warmth blossomed in Tameka’s chest. No holding back. “We have a son.”

Xelan searched her eyes for clarity.

Was this not good news? Was he unsure?

Then he asked, “How old?”

Emotion overwhelmed her anxiety to the point of stammering her words. “That’s a good question. His body and intelligence ages faster than a human. Even though he was born two years ago, he’s about Earth-age five in size. I have no clue in development. He’s a genius. Terrible with fish.”

A few conflicting emotions crossed Xelan’s face.

Tameka’s heart raced as she waited for any sign of how he felt about this. She wanted to keep their son, but she was so sure Xelan would want her to—

He beamed his signature grin. “I have a son. I want to meet him. What’s his name?” Before Tameka answered, he cupped a hand to her cheek. “You are a beautiful soul, and I know you’re making an excellent mother.”

Tears brimmed her eyes. So unsure. So scared. These were such strange circumstances to raise a child alone. And now to have the one person she wanted most for guidance and support say that to her… “How do you always know the exact perfect thing to say?”

“Talent and a few million years of practice.” He winked, and a tear fell with it. Choking, he repeated, “What’s his name?”

“Pax.”

Xelan lowered his gaze when he took her hand in his. He raised her knuckles to his lips with more tears in his eyes. “That’s perfect.”

Tumu appeared at the fork in the hall. “Hey, you two. The entire planet is busting apart, and we have more people to save.”

Xelan stared down at Tameka. “We’ll be right there.” Ignoring everything, he pulled her tight to him, and she let the tears fall. He leaned to her, and she tiptoed up to him. Their lips met in the middle. She threw her arms around his neck and clung to him. The sweet scent of honey and leather surrounded them. She faintly remembered it from the day she received her nacre.

The day she lost him.

Her breath hitched to stifle a sob against his warmth. A small pat on her cheek told her his tears mingled with hers. She separated from him by a centimeter. Just enough room to breathe the words, “I love you,” against his lips.

“I love you, Tameka.” And he said her name the way she liked. To hell with Gait. It could hold together a few more minutes. She reached for him again, but he pulled back with that warm chuckle. “Later.”

A curse on that word.

Korac stood at the lift with his hands on his hips. “While you two had your touching moment, we freed the rest of the prisoners. Now the two of you get to carry all these nacre cuffs.” He pointed at a heap of them. More than enough to restrain the Lyriks.

They climbed in the lift. Both Tameka and Xelan gazed at each other while avoiding the glowering stares of their audience.

This was happening. Really happening.

The lift reached the top floor where the prisoners escaped. Tameka hoped this wasn’t a mistake. Taking her lumps, she scooped seven or eight cuffs in her arms. Her not-dead-anymore lover mirrored her. They ran down the corridor to the exit.

“Stop!” Tumu cried out.

Xelan tackled Tameka. Korac majestically swept himself out of danger.

The ceiling caved them in.

“We’re trapped.” She whined a little, but hopefully no one blamed her.

Korac’s spirits fared better. “I think Sagan’s creating those conduits. She’ll help us.”

Tumu peered hard at the white-haired man. “How can she do that? She doesn’t know where we are.”

“She feels when I’m thinking of her.” He held up a hand. “It’s empirically proven, and I’ll take no arguments. Quiet yourselves.”

Xelan looked down at Tameka. She shrugged and retrieved her hoard of cuffs.

Tumu watched Korac as if particularly interested in the concept.

They all stopped breathing when electric light split the space beside the Icarus. A rift in the air. The sky above the Emporium lay beyond it.

Smirking magnificently, Korac reached a hand through.