Page 45 of Hope Forged
She had, except for the times she’d left Illan in the dark. Although, when she’d thought he’d died, the fear in her voice would never cease to haunt him. She hadn’t hesitated to pull him up despite her injury. That said much about who she was as a person.
Despite her foolhardiness in charging after Seba, he admired her.
That realization stiffened his spine. His emotions were evolving too fast for his liking. He needed a strategy. It was expected for a male to offer a gift to the father. Would it be required if he ‘rescued’ them? Would that be enough? If he had a daughter, the suitor would have to bring the impossible.
His chest swelled at that thought. Faelin of his own?
Yes, Ziamee was his future.
And on that decision, he went to retrieve replacement blasters for them both as soon as Coll set him free. Just in case.
Chapter Thirteen
ApproachingfootstepssnappedZiameeawake. She lay still, listening, a chill rippling across her exposed forearms. The tread was heavy, unlike Seba’s six-pawed patter. A solid weight pressed in on her. She peeked with one eye, then squealed, throwing her arms around her father. His broad shoulders, that smell—a mixture of male and sweat she’d grown to associate with him—engulfed her with pure joy.
He chuckled, giving her shoulder a pat. “I’m so sorry, ohara.”
“So you said.” She buried her nose in the curve of his neck. “Just glad you’re well.”
“You’ve been busy,” he said, leaning back to brush a braid away from her temple. “How did you find a rescuer?”
“Illan?” She frowned. “Hefoundme. Landed his shuttle on the sandpits.”
“He did?” Padya grinned. “I’m surprised he survived.”
Memories rose to the fore, and she glanced away, hoping her expression wouldn’t reveal anything to her father.
“I heard you yelling for me.” His smile held sorrow. “I suppose you know?” He watched her as if her reaction mattered.
She narrowed her eyes as she sifted through the recent events.
“That the beacon stopped—”
“Yes,” she said, clasping her hands in her lap. “Illan told me. You should have.”
He bowed his head. “It was a few days before…Seba.”
A vague memory rose of Padya and Mudya arguing. She’d thought nothing of it when they often debated how best to catalog specimens. The tension had been a little different—thicker, darker—and the strained silence had dampened the evening.
The next morning, her mother was gone.
“Do…you think Mudya is alive?” She studied his beloved face, dreading his answer while desperate to hear it.
“Yes, your mother’s a survivor…”
Now was the time to reveal to her that mind-fusion existed. But he didn’t.
“Don’t you miss her?” That was as close as she was prepared to risk the line of questioning.
Padya stood. “Of course.” But his stiff body belied his words. The tone he used rang of false sincerity.
“You can’t still be angry with her,” she snapped.
“I’m not,” he gritted out, heading for the door.
After searching for him for so long, the urge to trail him gripped her. But his unwillingness to open up about the mind-fusion and Mudya’s motives behind her abandonment kept Ziamee seated.
No.
