Cay opened his eyes with a jolt.
He blinked, fighting back the exhaustion threatening to drag him under. A crick in his neck suggested he'd fallen asleep sitting upright. Then again, after finishing Amaro's surgery he hadn't moved an inch from the chair beside the infirmary bed.
He most certainly hadn't intended to fall asleep. Annoyed, he rubbed his eyes before leaning toward Amaro.
The movement sent a spike of pain through his chest, but it was easy to ignore. His own injuries were shallow, nothing at all compared to what Amaro had endured.
The pilot was still fast asleep, put out by the potion he'd been given before surgery. A thick layer of bandages covered his torso, but the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath it relieved Cay.
The bullet was long gone; Cay would've loved to toss it overboard, but he'd decided to keep it for Nevy to analyze. It seemed like the kind of thing she would appreciate. If he strained, he could still detect a faint whiff of blood beneath the clean, sharp healing herbs, but not a drop was visible.
This nightmare was over. Finally over.
But it wasn't as easy as putting it all behind him. He had already explained himself to Prince Darian. Now a far more difficult conversation lay ahead.
Slumping his shoulders, he gazed at Amaro's face. If it weren't for the ashen cast to his skin and the dark shadows under his eyes, he might as well have been peacefully sleeping. Seeing him like this unknotted some of the tension in Cay's chest.
Once again, he forced himself to relive the moment the bullet had struck Amaro. The ice-cold terror that had flooded his entire body. But of course, he should've known that wouldn't be enough to kill the scoundrel.
Perhaps he was foolish to think this way. Amaro was only a nephilim, after all, just like him. A man made of mortal flesh. After stitching up his body, Cay should know that better than anyone.
Even so, from the moment they'd met he had never been able to see Amaro as another man. Though the temple received many visitors, Cay had always found most of them beyond any kind of note. Sullen, hard-faced travelers in dusty clothing, worn down by their lives in the wasteland.
But then Amaro had come, this man who wore colorful bandannas, laughed loudly, and never seemed to sit still. Nothing at all like the other travelers, let alone the solemn sages that made up Cay's entire world.
Cay had hated him for it. Or at least, that was the only name he could put on his feelings. Every excuse he'd found he had used to stick around Amaro – to keep an eye on Eulyn, he told himself. He hated the outrageous stories Amaro told of his travels, that infuriating sparkle in his eye, the way he made Eulyn smile.
And above all, he hated it when Amaro's dark eyes met his own, how they crinkled with amusement as if indulging in a joke only he understood. Every time, his heart throbbed like it wanted to explode.
Hate. What else could he call it?
After Amaro had left with Eulyn, Cay had been furious – but also betrayed. He hadn't liked the scoundrel one ounce, but he'd still thought Amaro had more honor than to spirit away a sage. Or so he told himself.
For Eulyn's sake, he'd repeated as if trying to inscribe it into his heart. Even if the other sages begged him not to go, even if it meant braving the wasteland, he would do it all for Eulyn.
For Eulyn. That was enough, and had always been enough, these past five years. Right?
He let out a sigh, but the ache in his chest didn't abate. A thousand emotions twisted inside him, stabbing like needles. Emotions he didn't want to acknowledge, emotions he wished had never existed.
But he couldn't run from them any longer. Not after he'd come so close to losing Amaro for good. Only now did he finally understand.
"I…." His voice came out a whisper, barely audible over his slamming heartbeat. "I...maybe all this time...I wanted to stay by...your side."
Each word burned in his throat. Despite himself, he couldn't help but feel like he was betraying Eulyn. But if he didn't get it out, these emotions might drive him insane.
And he knew he wasn't betraying her. Not after finally hearing her voice. 'My family,' she had called the crew. Every single one of them, from the ones who'd been with her longest to the new arrivals from Earth. He'd seen just how far she would go to keep them all safe.
For Eulyn, their happiness was her happiness. Cay could just picture her smiling at him, encouraging him to step into the future. Not to leave her behind, but to find something new.
"Me too. That's what I always wanted."
The voice sliced through Cay's thoughts like a sword. Quiet and rasping, yet he'd never mistake it anywhere.
Heartbeat thundering, he lifted his gaze. Sure enough, Amaro had turned his head so he was facing Cay, mahogany eyes wide open.
"You," Cay burst out. "Go back to sleep."
Of course Amaro didn't listen. Instead a smile spread across his face, crinkling his eyes in that infuriatingly familiar way.
"You're finally able to admit the truth, huh? Feels like I've been waiting for ages."
"Shut up," came out of Cay's mouth before he could stop himself. But he bit down the rest of his words, refusing to continue down this easy path. Not when he had far more vital things to say.
He swallowed, took a breath. "I'm...I'm sorry. If – if I hadn't been so selfish, so stubborn, none of this would have happened."
It took every ounce of his strength to meet Amaro's gaze. But he was through with being a coward, through with running and hiding.
"I stole the Star of Miriel because I wanted to speak with Eulyn. Because of that, I put the entire crew in danger. Because of that, you…."
He broke off, despite himself. Try as he might, he could no longer force words past the lump swelling in his throat.
"Hm." Amaro's eyelashes fluttered. "But you did hear her voice, didn't you? So it was worth it in the end."
Cay's heart flipped. "You heard her too?"
"Yeah. Thought I might be dreaming, but seems like I wasn't. It's all good, right? You finally got what you wanted."
"That – that isn't – " Cay sputtered. Even if he lived a thousand years, he'd never understand how Amaro's mind worked.
"And I…." Amaro sighed, his smile slipping a little. "I've got some things to apologize for too."
"Like what?" Cay couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"I should have been honest with you too. From the beginning…."
"You were honest," Cay said, dry-mouthed. "I just didn't believe you."
"Yeah, maybe...but after a certain point, I...kind of gave up. I thought it didn't matter what I did or said to you, 'cause you'd hate me all the same. So I'd do things just to get a reaction, even if it meant pissing you off. That was low."
To his shame, tears pricked Cay's eyes. He blinked hard, forcing them back. Not only did he have no right to them, but here and now, he wanted nothing to obscure Amaro's face from his vision.
"Maybe…," he said quietly. "Maybe I didn't...entirely hate it."
Amaro blinked. It was quite nice, Cay thought idly, to catch him off guard for once.
Then a smile spread across his face, the vibrant grin that had so terrified Cay when they'd first met. Now it took Cay's breath away for altogether different reasons.
"Well, as long as we're being honest…."
With a slight grimace, he lifted his hand. Cay should have told him not to move, but instead he found himself stepping closer. When he slid his fingers around Amaro's, it felt as natural as breathing.
And when Amaro tugged on his hand, pulling him down toward his face, Cay accepted without a protest. The least he could do was return Amaro's honesty.