Page 71 of Nansar
Chapter 19
Chloe
Two more days through the mountains, winding along narrow passes where bioluminescent moss painted the rock face with light, camping beneath skies scattered with unfamiliar constellations. And every night, lying in Nansar’s arms, learning things I never expected to discover. The way his breath caught when I traced the ridges along his spine. The deep, rumbling purr that vibrated through his chest when I kissed the hollow of his throat. The surprising softness of his pale skin over all that hard muscle.
Every night we came together beneath unfamiliar constellations. His touch had become both familiar and thrilling—a comfort I never imagined again.
But one thing still puzzled me.
The elder's words kept echoing in my mind. The way Nansar had frozen when I'd noticed him scratching his horns. That flush of color across his pale skin. The elder's knowing laugh. It all pointed to something significant, something deeper than the simple attraction Nansar claimed it meant.
I hadn't asked him again. Maybe I was afraid of the answer. Or maybe I was afraid of what it might mean for us when this was all over.
What would happen when the Alliance ship arrived? The question gnawed at me, growing more insistent with each passing mile. I'd board that ship. They'd take me to my dad,probably send me home to Earth. And Nansar would... what? Return to whatever life he'd carved out here on Palaydium, serving out the rest of his fifty-year sentence.
The thought made my chest ache.
I told myself it was just gratitude. He'd saved my life, protected me, guided me through terrain that would have killed me alone within days.
But it was more than gratitude, and I knew it.
After Declan, I'd thought I'd never feel safe with anyone again.
Nansar had been different from the start. Patient. Gentle. He never pushed, never demanded. When I'd flinched from his touch those first few days, he'd simply given me space.
Slowly, carefully, he'd helped me remember that touch didn't have to mean pain or powerlessness. That closeness could be comfort instead of threat.
He'd given me back something I thought Declan had stolen forever—the ability to feel safe in someone else's presence. To trust again.
How could I not feel something for him after that?
Of course I'd miss him. Of course saying goodbye would sting. But it would do more than sting, and I knew it.
I'd miss the warmth of his body against mine at night, the steady rhythm of his breathing lulling me to sleep. I'd miss his dry humor, the way his eyes crinkled when something amused him. I'd miss the feeling of safety I had when he was near, the certainty that he would protect me no matter what.
I'd miss him.
And that terrified me more than anything we'd encountered on this journey.
Because what did it mean, to feel this way about someone I'd known for such a short time? Someone who was a prisoner,whose life was so fundamentally different from mine that any future together seemed impossible?
When I tried to picture my old life—my apartment, my job, the coffee shop where I got my morning latte, even my dad's cabin in Montana—it all felt distant and faded, like a photograph left too long in the sun. But when I tried to picture walking away from Nansar, boarding that ship and never seeing him again, my eyes burned with tears along with a suffocating panic clawing at my chest.
I didn't know what I wanted anymore. I only knew that the closer we got to the rendezvous point, the heavier the weight in my chest became.
I pushed the thought away as Nansar pulled Starfield to a stop.
"We're close now," he said softly, his fingers moving in a gentle caress across my stomach.
I nodded, but apprehension skittered down my spine. We were close to the rendezvous point. Close to where I would meet the Alliance rescue ship.
The thought didn't bring the relief I expected. Instead, it settled like a rock in my stomach.
The valley unfurled before us like something from a dream, cradled between towering peaks that scraped Palaydium's yellow sky. Lush and impossibly fertile, it stood in breathtaking contrast to the harsh terrain we'd spent days crossing. Vegetation in shades of emerald and jade carpeted the ground in thick waves, dotted with clusters of crimson flowers. A stream carved through the valley's heart, waters dancing and glittering as they caught the sunlight, throwing prisms of gold and amber across the surrounding rocks.
But something felt wrong.
Nansar's body had gone rigid behind me, his hand stilling on my stomach.
