I stand silently, letting the ramifications play out in my head. What if she doesn’t want to be human? From what I can tell, Mel seemed perfectly content in her Sumair state. Reversion might not wash well with her. And Ryan…Ryan just got his happily ever after. He waited a millennium for it, and as quickly as the gift was given, I snatched it away.

I nervously chew my lip. “You can’t be sure.”

“She has no pull,” Akantha advises.

“No pull,” Aella confirms.

“No light,” Evadne whispers.

“You still can’t be sure. Is there a human test you can perform? Without seeing the light...”

Ryan’s the first to fully accept what’s happening. His peaceful demeanor gives way to unsettled waters of rage, fear, and sadness. I feel every crashing wave of emotion and get seasick from the force of the current. No, not seasick. That rolling gut is definitely the beginning of an ulcer set on burning through my stomach lining. It only takes Mel a few more seconds to clue in. She doesn’t display any emotion whatsoever. She stands staring blankly into the forest, clearly in shock.

“Is not always what we see.” Akantha clasps her hands to prevent further damage to her pant ties. “We have light inside. You can feel light. With fire comes stronger connection to feelings. We have eyes of heart. Light inside your friend is not magic light. She is pure. She is no longer contaminated.”

“They’re right,” Mel agrees.

I’m conflicted over supporting the claim or offering my condolences. “It’s still just a guess.”

“It’s the only thing that makes sense,” Mel rationalizes. “My visions all went black after that day. I’ve tried to see things. I’ve tried harder than you can imagine. There’s just nothing there. I saw everything in pieces up to that point. They weren’t in sequence, but anything I’ve ever seen only brought us to the moment where we found each other. I can’t see past it.”

“I’m sorry.” There’s no way I can truly atone for what I did to them.

She glares at me through ice-blue eyes, anger wrecking her stoic bravado. “Don’t apologize.”

It’s a cold lance piercing my tinder heart’s fire containment shield, immediately extinguishing the flame. Realizing how I’ve reacted to her words, Mel places her hands on my cheeks, making me look at her when my gaze was fixed on the forest floor.

“Fate rarely explains her choices.” Her tone is cool and controlled. “We have to believe they’re the right ones.”

Ryan wraps me in his arms, the rippling river of his emotions rocking me back and forth in a fluid, calming motion. “I can forgive myself now.”

Derry joins him. Suddenly, they’re all surrounding me, touching me in some way. Before they entered my life, I’d have shunned the physical contact, but having it now jackets the explosives, keeping them from discharging. The steadily building fire dissipates, lying dormant for its next chance to consume me and everyone around me.

“You’ve cured her.” Ryan’s wide smile devours his face. “Do you have any idea what this means?”

My shoulders sag. I know exactly what it means. I’ve ruined their chance at a happily ever after.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“Sheyla, listen to me.” Mel firms her hold on my cheeks. “We are two people in this giant mess. How many lives can you restore if this can be replicated?”

“Or reverted,” I consider thoughtfully. “What if we could change you back?”

“Do not work.” Aella is fast becoming one of my least favorite Solathairs. I don’t like her persuasive effect on how I view outcomes. “No pull. Need pull for transfer. She immune. You immunize her.”

“Vaccinations aren’t permanent.” I glower at her. “This could wear off.”

Mel’s hope is potent. When I give her my attention, she shakes her head. She obviously doesn’t want me addressing her feelings openly, but if it’s immunization versus vaccination, Mel’s rooting for the latter.

I hate to think I’ve caused permanent damage. “I helped Connor, Brody, and Derry with my extra energy, yet they aren’t immunized.”

“You helped their cravings, but you didn’t burn out all the contaminants from their bodies,” Ryan reasons.

“This is a vaccination, not an immunization. The dose is trickling through her veins. It’ll take a while for it to taper off.”

Aella shrugs. “She immune woman, cured of curse.”

Brody elbows my side, trying to elicit a smile. “I’m contaminated.”

“More like fungal,” I mutter, failing to appreciate his awkward humor, needed or not.

He smirks.

“Contaminated is a stretch.” Kiley’s offended. “This isn’t a disease.”

“Eye of beholder,” Aella returns sharply. “You are happy. What of others? What of those who did not have choice? Those unhappy?”

“To feed, to grow your race to sustain our own with maintained morality, is not safe. Like any food source, eventually it will be all gone. What then? This is solution to overpopulation problem. This is solution to world finding us out. Harvesting. Picking and prodding. This is guarantee we live on. Of peace,” Akantha adds.

“For a unit who wanted so desperately to stay out of a potential war, your heels are dug in pretty deep,” I state sourly.

“Unit do not choose side,” Aella contends. “This chance for peace with no side. One whole unit.”

“They will not use her for binding.” Akantha feels uncomfortable disagreeing. Aella was right. My presence weakened their bond. “Neither side will look first to peaceful resolution. They will want weapon.”

“They won’t use me to heal anyone, only for power plays as ordered by the Sinsear Scholars. Or for punishment as ordered by the Sinsear Supreme.” I shudder. “How can I prevent that?”

Derry furrows his brow. “By defusing the bomb.”

Brody makes an exploding motion with his hands. “Or detonating it.”

“Either way, we have to be certain no one can use me.” I swallow down a nervous lump. Derry isn’t the only one with safety concerns. The difference is he’s worried about me while I’m worried about everyone I’ll hurt if I can’t decommission myself.

“That’s how these things work, Sweetheart,” Derry soothes me. “We figure it out as we go. The trials, and even the errors, they’re both parts of this beautiful science experiment.”

My scientific inclination should be delighted at the discovered prospect. Whether immunization or vaccination, results are evidently visible in Mel’s condition. Nothing changes, and we can’t move forward without continued trials. Do I necessarily want to move forward? Not so much. I’m absolutely not ready to. I may never be. “They’re not lab rats. They had forever in front of them. I took that.”

“Technically, you only took it from Mel,” Declan notes.

Kiley slaps him. Hard. I wince on his behalf. I miss Tally. She’d properly chastise me. I miss Supermom. She’d lay down some licking salt. I miss my robot. It would emergency shut-off switch the heck right out of this dumpster fire.

“Not all of us want forever,” Mel insists. “You don’t.”

“I didn’t say I don’t want forever. I just don’t want the danger that comes with it.”

The fear of harming innocent bystanders during my transition is the major thing stopping me from wanting to become a Solathair. Biggest can’t by a long shot. As far as I can tell, hurting people is the only thing I’m really good at. I ruined my mother at birth, spent the rest of my childhood destroying my father’s free will to express his grief or any other emotions, and any time I correct a past mistake, I only manage to further accrue a deeper karmageddon-sized debt to the universe. Why not myself? Why can’t I just implode in a remote location without anyone else suffering because of me?

My vacation so far is anything but a peaceful, relaxing visit to the Amazon rainforest. Instead of stilling the backfiring engine pushing my motor along, the vibrancy of the landscape, natives included, has caused a blinding illumination reminiscent of a sun-staring contest no retina can win. Can I turn this trip around?