5

“I don’t know why I just said that, Nova,” Valen says, his eyes still wide and confused. “I…. I didn’t even mean to get out of the water. Suddenly, all I could think about was getting back on the ship and getting back in space. I…” His hand goes to his chest and I realize just how hard he’s breathing. “I have to get back to Isroth.” 

My stomach sinks and suddenly I’m so cold. I walk up the shore and out of the lake, my eyes fixed on Valen’s. When I reach him, I place my hands on either side of his head, keeping his gaze locked on me. “You do not have to go back. You are free. You’re here with me.” 

His eyes widen just a little more. “I can’t, Nova,” he says, his voice nearly a whisper. “I can’t stay here.” 

“This is what he did to you, Valen,” I say, staring into his eyes as if I can see down into his soul. “This isn’t you. This is his Kinduri. This is what he’s used against you, for solars.” 

Valen drops his boots in the sand and brings his hands up to cover mine. He squeezes his eyes closed and I feel his entire body begin to shake. “I don’t know if we can beat this, Nova,” he says, his voice quivering. “It’s like there’s a voice in my head, screaming over and over that I have to go back. There’s a hole in my chest and there’s a tether there, attached from me to Cyrillius, and it’s reeling me in.” 

I shake my head. “It isn’t real, Valen, but I know it feels like it is.” 

Valen’s eyes slide open and in that moment, I feel the door between our minds swing open. 

I’m falling through suffocating sand. It’s dark and lonely, and this tunnel is filled to the brim with fear. 

I’m going to die. 

I’m going to die. 

I’m going to die. 

They’re going to find me and they’re going to skin me alive and make me watch as they eat me piece by piece. 

Savage, savage, savage survival. 

But there’s a bright spot. There’s salvation. 

I have to get back to Cyrillius. 

I suck in a breath and pull away from Valen, breaking our physical connection. 

“No,” I say, shaking my head, even as my entire body trembles. “It’s not real, it’s not now.” 

I take three deep breaths, taking three steps away from Valen before I can look back at him. 

He looks at me with fearful pleading in his eyes. 

“It’s all a trick, Valen,” I say, keeping my voice calm and even. “It isn’t real right now. I’m going to figure out how to fix what he did to you.” 

Valen is breathing hard, but I see his body calming. I see the fear and the memories beginning to fade. He returns to the present. To the here and now. 

“Nova, I-” 

“I will figure this out, Valen,” I say, my tone firm and hard. I close the distance between us, taking his hands in mine. “I will. Because I cannot live with the alternative. So if it takes me the rest of my life, I won’t fix that ship. We’ll spend the rest of our lives stuck here, while I undo what he did.” 

I see a conflicting typhoon of emotion ripping through Valen’s eyes. 

He’s never, ever had someone who cared about him, who promised to take care of him. It’s a part of his darkness. He’s survived on his own for so long. 

He doesn’t want to believe. He doesn’t dare. 

But still, he pulls me into his arms, crushing me to him tightly, as he buries his face in my neck. 

We go back to the ship. By the time we get there, we’re both freezing from walking around in the cool temperatures soaking wet. I strip my uniform off and hang it in the washroom and wrap myself in a bed sheet. While Valen does the same, I return to the Command Deck and I’m grateful when there’s enough power to close the hatch. I don’t have the same luck in turning on the interior heaters. 

I head back toward the sleeping quarters, thankful that it is warmest there. It gets the most direct sunlight, creating natural heat. 

I stop dead just after I walk through the door, because Valen stands there, looking out the window at the brilliant day. He has only a bedsheet wrapped around his waist. 

Even in all our visions, in our time physically together, I have never seen Valen without a shirt. 

It’s certainly a view to appreciate. Valen keeps himself very physically strong and healthy. But it isn’t his beautiful physical body that stops me dead. 

It’s the endless scarring that laces over his whole body. 

There’s a long, angry scar that stretches from his waist, all the way up his stomach and chest, ending at his collar bone. 

There are at least a dozen lash scars across his back, and I remember seeing visions of him being whipped as a young teenager. 

Dozens and dozens of scars crisscross over his arms, his chest, his neck, his sides.