The Rifts of Psyche by Kyle West (i love reading .txt) 📕

rim. That light emblazoned the planet a fiery orange, making it seem as if the gas giant were a sun melting into the desert.

“In the spirit of honesty and not taking shots at each other,” Serah said, “I should tell you the real reason I haven’t left yet.”

He couldn’t help but watch her, the way the wind tugged at her hair, her blue eyes reflecting this alien sun.

“I’m not one for causes, quests, and saving the human race. I just do what I feel like doing. Always have, always will. That’s who I am. We probably only have a few days of life left. I’d . . . like it if you were there for me for these last days. For once, it would be nice to not have to worry.”

Lucian’s throat clamped up. “Worry about what?”

“Being afraid.”

Lucian couldn’t deny that he wanted that, too. Serah was strong, brave, fiercely beautiful. That should have been answer enough for him. But he kept thinking of Emma. He knew there was no chance he’d ever see her again, and they had never truly been together, anyway. He had experienced more with Serah in a few short days than in months with Emma. So why did he feel so torn, especially when he was likely to die in the next few days? He hated how confusing things were.

“It’s fine,” Serah said, deflated. “There’s . . . someone else, isn’t there?”

How had she read him so well? “We were never really together. We both wanted that, but at the Academy, that’s forbidden. She’s just someone who was there for me during a hard time.” He smiled. “Sort of like you.”

“You wish it could have been something, though.”

Lucian had to nod. There was no point in lying about it. “Of course I do.”

She closed her eyes for a moment. “I’m sorry. There’s hardly been any time to process anything. For any of us.”

“And how are you holding up?”

Her eyes widened, as if surprised he’d asked that. “Usually, no one cares about a fray. They just want us to go off and die alone.”

“That’s what happened to me when they sent me here. As far as I’m concerned, you and I are one and the same.”

She watched him for a moment, guarded. “Well, if you really mean it, where to start? Everything in my world is spinning. It feels like when we were falling into the Darkrift. I thought we were going to die. But then I held onto you, and I was . . . okay.” Her cheeks flushed. “I don’t know. I’m not good at all these rotting words, either. I feel like an idiot. Maybe that’s why I like to take shots. It’s easier. What I’m used to.” She sighed. “I don’t know. What do you think?”

“I think you’re being too hard on yourself. And . . . it would be nice to have you there for me, too. It would certainly make the next few days easier to get through.”

“What about my skin? It’s only going to get worse, until I look like those people in the Darkrift.”

He reached down and touched the wound. Her eyes widened, and he was afraid that he had crossed some sort of line, or that it might even hurt her. But she kept her arm still and let him touch her. It felt no different from any other skin.

“Does it hurt?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“It doesn’t feel any different. It just looks different on the outside.”

“It’s ugly, though.”

“It’s the best thing about you.”

She gave a short laugh. “Wow. I must be really ugly, then.”

“You’re definitely not that. You’re beautiful, strong, honest—”

“Then what are you waiting for, Lucian Abrantes?”

He pulled her face close, and her lips melted into his. This was his first chance to slow down in ages, to embrace feelings buried by responsibility. His heart pounded as he gave himself to the moment, as she responded in kind. Why couldn’t they have something more? Something to give them the strength to face everything in the coming days? There were no naysayers, no Transcends or Talents looking over his shoulder. It was just him, her, and what they wanted.

When they parted, he was grateful for the mast blocking them from view, but that was no guarantee of privacy. They were on the Queen’s airship, after all, and she would almost certainly not look favorably on this.

“What was that look in your eyes just now?” Serah asked. “I don’t like it.”

“I don’t either. It’s just . . .” He didn’t have to finish his sentence.

“Rot that bitch,” Serah said. “She doesn’t own you. Don’t you want to prove that?”

“What do you mean?”

She smiled and pulled him across the deck, mischief glinting in her eyes.

“Serah, what are you doing?”

“Oh, you’ll see in a minute.”

Lucian knew instantly what she meant. Part of him wanted to protest, but who was he kidding? He wanted it, and needed it. And for Serah’s part, well, she was doing exactly as she’d said. She did what felt right to her in the moment. She might feel differently tomorrow, or the next day, but for now, he was content to be caught up in her storm.

The truth was it felt good to be pushed by something else other than destiny for once. To be human instead of Chosen.

They had fallen asleep embracing. For the first time in months, maybe in years, Lucian allowed himself to relax. All the sensations he had forgotten, all the reasons life was worth living, he’d experienced anew. He watched her back, which bore scars from he knew not where, as the last of the golden sunlight set below the window. He watched as she slept, her breaths even and calm. He wanted her to sleep like that as long as she needed, to experience peace and forget fear, at least for another moment.

But it was not to be. She suddenly thrashed in her sleep, her body twisting and throat whimpering. When her eyes opened, they were wide