Page 91 of Sunsplitter

Yme shook her head. “Verne wouldn’t have—”

“Tyvo had me on the ground. His teeth in my throat. I’d bedead.” Yme flinched at every word. Antal pointed at Fi. “She saved me. Not you. Not Avroz.Her.” He went quieter. “But that never mattered, did it? They’re only human.”

Antal took the replacement part from Fi and passed it to the foreman.

His hands were shaking.

In seasonspeak, he said, “This should get us by. I’ll send a stronger alloy as soon as possible. Now please, excuse me.”

Antal strode out of the room with tail lashing. Yme didn’t follow, staring after her son with hollowed eyes.

She had the audacity to look to Fi. This time, not with spite. A silent plea.

Fi huffed and turned her back, following Antal.

She found him on the roof. Of course.

A stiff wind blew through the valley, buffeting Antal as he crouched on the building ledge, his shoulders bowed as he looked out over Thomaskweld. At Fi’s approach, he turned.

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing he said.

She might have slapped him, if he didn’t look so defeated already.

“Sorry?” Fi demanded. “For what?”

“It’s been a century. I shouldn’t let her get under my skin.”

“Family… does that.”

There was so much to him. That was the reason Fi had first tumbled for this beast, his complexity, every stunning layer laid bare beneath her lips. But now, he was hers. And the depth to him was also terrifying. Layers of dreams and scars splayed out on the table, all this trust in her to hold the scalpel, the responsibility of helping to keep him whole.

Maybe this was love—tumbling over and over, taking turns catching each other.

“Hey,” Fi said. “Come here.”

She beckoned him away from the ledge, out of the wind and into the shelter of a metal structure on the roof. Antal complied. He fell into her immediately, his nose burying against her neck, fingers plunging into her hair. For the space of that moment, they weren’t human and daeyari, straining to balance colliding worlds. They were justthem.

Why couldn’t it always be so simple?

Fi tipped his chin, lifting his eyes to hers. “I’m proud of you for saying something.”

“It doesn’t feel good,” he grumbled.

“I know. And that’s why I’m proud. You had every right to say what you did.”

“I feel like I’m barely managing all this. I feel like…” He sighed and cupped her cheek. “I know you’ve been angry at me.”

“Not angry, just annoyed because…” Fi stumbled. Annoyed at his stubbornness, yes. But also afraid. Afraid she couldn’t walk fully at his side the way he deserved. Afraid he’d never let her. Afraid to admit the core of her weakness, the shiver of herhumanskin against cold wind, something no amount of bravado could fix. “Because I hate seeing you like this. I prefer you smiling.” Softer, “Yme said you never smiled.”

“In that house? No.”

“So why do you smile now?”

Antal tilted his head, perplexed.

Then he kissed her. His mouth was all the heat she needed. His teeth snared her lip, possessive, flooding sweet ozone across her tongue. Fi swallowed him down like a cure.

“Oh,” was all she could muster.