Updated Nov 20, 2025 • ~8 min read
The bruise was spectacular.
Liana examined it in the bathroom mirror—a purple-black bloom spreading across her ribs where she’d taken an elbow during combat training. It hurt to breathe deep, and she was pretty sure Kaelen had cracked something.
“You’re favoring your left side.”
Liana jumped, spinning to find Kaelen in the doorway. She’d thought she was alone in the facility. Most people had cleared out an hour ago.
“How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough.” He moved into the small bathroom, and suddenly the space felt much smaller. “Let me see.”
“I’m fine.”
“Liana.” His voice held that note of command that made her spine straighten despite herself. “Let me see.”
She pulled up her shirt, just enough to show the damage. Kaelen’s expression darkened.
“I hit you too hard.”
“You were demonstrating a block. I didn’t move fast enough.”
“That’s not—” He cut himself off, frustrated. Through the bond, Liana felt his guilt. His anger at himself. “I should have pulled it.”
“If you pull your hits, I won’t learn.” Liana dropped her shirt. “Besides, I’ve had worse.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better.”
There was something in his voice—something raw—that made Liana look at him more carefully. He was standing rigid, hands clenched at his sides, fighting some internal battle.
“Kaelen, it’s okay. Really.”
“It’s not.” He met her eyes, and the intensity there stole her breath. “I can feel it through the bond. Your pain. I’ve been feeling it for the past hour, and I can’t—” He stopped. Breathed. “I can’t stand knowing I caused it.”
Oh. Liana hadn’t thought about that. Hadn’t realized he’d been feeling her injury the whole time.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I should have blocked better.”
“Don’t apologize. This is my fault.” He moved closer, hesitating, then: “I can help. If you’ll let me.”
“Help how?”
“Starborn healing. It’s basic, nothing dramatic. But I can ease the pain. Help it heal faster.” His eyes searched hers. “I need to touch you, though. Skin to skin.”
Liana’s pulse jumped. The few times they’d touched—really touched—the bond had flared so intensely it was overwhelming. Doing it on purpose, for an extended period…
“Okay,” she heard herself say.
Kaelen moved carefully, like she was something fragile. “Lift your shirt.”
Liana pulled the fabric up, baring her ribs. The bruise looked even worse in the fluorescent light. She heard Kaelen’s sharp intake of breath.
“This is going to be warm,” he warned. Then his palm pressed against her side, right over the injury.
Heat bloomed instantly—not painful, but intense. Silver light glowed between his skin and hers, and Liana felt the bond open wider than it ever had before. Felt his power flowing into her, knitting damaged tissue, easing inflammation.
But more than that, she felt him.
His focus. His care. The way he was pouring energy into healing her while simultaneously trying to keep the bond from overwhelming them both. The guilt he carried for every person he’d ever failed to protect. The desperate need to keep her safe.
“Kaelen,” she whispered.
“Shh. Almost done.”
But Liana wasn’t talking about the healing. She was talking about the way her whole body was responding to his touch. The way the bond was singing between them, demanding more contact, more connection. The way his other hand had come to rest on her hip, steadying her, his thumb unconsciously stroking small circles against her skin.
The way she could feel his desire through the bond, carefully contained but unmistakable.
He wanted her. Had wanted her from the moment they met, maybe. But he’d been so determined to push her away, to protect her, that he’d locked it down tight.
Now, with his guard lowered, with the bond wide open, she could feel everything.
“There,” Kaelen said, his voice rough. The light faded. “Better?”
Liana took a breath—deep, painless. The bruise was still there, but the sharp ache was gone. “Yeah. Much better.”
She should step back. Lower her shirt. Put distance between them. But she didn’t. Instead, she looked up and found him staring at her with an expression that made her stomach flip.
“You’re still touching me,” she said softly.
Kaelen’s eyes dropped to where his hand still rested on her hip. He didn’t move it. “I know.”
“The healing’s done.”
“I know that too.”
The air between them was electric. Liana could hear her own heartbeat, loud in the quiet bathroom. Could feel Kaelen’s pulse through the bond, racing just as fast as hers.
“We should stop,” Kaelen said.
“Probably.”
Neither of them moved.
Then Kaelen’s thumb traced along the edge of her mark—the constellation pattern that had spread from her shoulder blade down her spine. The touch sent lightning through her entire nervous system.
“I’ve wanted to do that,” he admitted quietly, “since the first time I saw it.”
Liana’s breath caught. “The mark?”
“You.” His eyes met hers again, and the hunger in them was unmistakable. “I’ve wanted to touch you, to—” He stopped himself, jaw clenching. “But I can’t. We can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because this—” He gestured between them, the bond practically visible in the air. “—is already too much. If we—if I—” He pulled his hand away, stepping back. The loss of contact made Liana want to cry out. “I can’t be distracted. Can’t let this become more than it already is.”
“It’s a bond, Kaelen. It’s already everything.”
“Which is exactly the problem.” He ran both hands over his face, frustrated. “The more connected we become, the more vulnerable we are. If something happens to you because I was too focused on—on this instead of the threat—”
“You can’t live your entire life in fear.”
“I can if it keeps you alive.”
Liana moved before she could second-guess herself, closing the distance between them. Kaelen went very still as she placed her palm over his heart, feeling it hammer beneath her hand.
“Feel that?” she asked. “Through the bond. What I’m feeling.”
His eyes closed. “Liana—”
“I’m not afraid of this. Of you. Of us.” She could feel his resistance crumbling, feel him wanting to give in. “I’m afraid of living half a life because I’m too scared to take a risk.”
“This isn’t a risk. It’s a guarantee.” His hand came up, covering hers. “Every person I’ve ever cared about has died, Liana. Every single one. I won’t survive losing you too.”
“Then don’t lose me.” She rose on her toes, bringing them almost eye-level. “Fight with me. Not just for me. With me.”
For a long moment, Kaelen just stared at her. Then, slowly, his free hand came up to cup her face, his thumb brushing her cheekbone.
“You’re making this very difficult,” he murmured.
“Good.”
Something broke in his expression. He leaned down, and for one heart-stopping second, Liana thought he was going to kiss her. Wanted it so badly she could taste it.
But at the last second, he pressed his forehead to hers instead. The contact sent warmth flooding through the bond—affection, desire, regret, promise.
“Not yet,” he whispered. “When this is over. When we’ve survived. When I know I can keep you safe.” His breath was warm against her lips. “Then I’ll kiss you. And I won’t stop.”
It was a promise and a torment. Liana’s hands fisted in his shirt.
“That’s a hell of a thing to say to someone you’re trying to keep at arm’s length.”
“I’m not keeping you at arm’s length anymore.” He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. “I’m asking you to wait. To let me do this right.”
“And if I don’t want to wait?”
“Then you’re going to make surviving this war very, very hard.” But he was almost smiling. And through the bond, Liana felt his resolve settling. His acceptance.
He wasn’t pushing her away anymore.
“I can live with that,” Liana said.
Kaelen’s hand slid from her face to the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her curls. The touch was possessive and gentle at the same time, and it made Liana’s knees weak.
“We should go,” he said, but he didn’t move.
“Probably.”
They stood there, foreheads touching, breathing each other’s air, the bond a living thing between them. And Liana knew with absolute certainty: when Kaelen finally did kiss her, it was going to destroy them both.
She couldn’t wait.
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