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The wind blew through my hair as I raced across the desert beneath a full moon on my trusty Yo-zon. I’d given him a name my grandfather had told me meant swift, because this brindle-colored horse had been fast even as a yearling.
We rode as one through the dark.
Always at night.
That was the only time a C’raydonian was safe from attack. The sentient beasts were not as adept in the dark for some reason. My parents had warned me to always travel with an escort, but I needed to ride and burn off the fear that had clawed at me for three nights straight.
I couldn’t face sleep again.
Each night I saw a young man, tall and fit, a warrior as fierce as my father, who led our tribe. This warrior called to me in my dreams. He sounded as though he missed me.
How could that be?
I’d never seen anyone like him.
Soft blue-and-brown-colored shapes covered his wide chest and arms, all layered with muscle cut by hours of training. His body was a living sculpture of a fierce fighter. The tanned skins he wore for pants hugged muscled thighs and stopped at his boots. Wild locks of hair blew in the wind, brushing his shoulders and changing from dark brown to golden to a cinnamon color.
He stood in front of a small, waist-high table and told me, “When I do this and I’m gone, my soul will search for you. If I had the choice to lose only my life in trade for just one more minute with you, I would do it.” His throat moved with a hard swallow. “If others did not depend upon me, I would stay here with you.”
“What are you talking about? Where are you going?” And why did his words tear me apart?
Lifting his hand, he reached out to me.
I reached out to touch his hand and the world exploded.
Rayen lunged up, gasping for air, no idea where she was until Callan jumped off the cloud bed to stand in front of her, searching the kamara. He whispered, “What’s wrong? Where’s the threat?”
“Just ... a dream.” One that felt as if she’d had it while living at home, but how could that be when Callan had not even been born by the time she died?
She sat on the bed, still breathing hard. He turned to her with tufts of hair sticking out everywhere from sleeping. Running both hands through the golden-brown locks, he shoved the wild locks down and wiped a hand over his face before squatting down in front of her. “Are you okay?”
Staring at him, she tried to come up with an answer that was the truth. “Just rattled with so much going on. Think it’s daylight yet?”
“In a little less than an hour.”
“How do you know this when there are no windows in the kamara?”
“My body is in sync with the red moon. I can feel its pull as the moon nears the time to rise.”
She reached out and touched his cheek, wishing he was anywhere but this miserable Sphere. Before she could form a thought into words, he cupped her hand and kissed the palm.
Then that look entered his eyes. The same one that she’d seen the last time he tried to make her leave. She warned him, “Don’t start on me to go back.”
“Thylan will attack. If we can’t hold this ward against him, he’ll come for you. I don’t want to run the risk that I can’t protect you.”
“I’m powerful enough to deal with Thylan.”
“When your powers show up,” Callan pointed out, reminding her of her hit-and-miss defense system. He added, “If we were bonded, I could direct your power.”
Ah, his new tactic. “No. I will not condemn you to a lifetime without the chance to bond with someone else. Don’t think it’s easy for me to say that. There’s a crazy woman inside me who wants to kill any female who touches you, but the warrior in me was taught to make honorable decisions. I can’t tell you how I know that since I’ve regained so few memories I can count them on two fingers, but I can’t take that choice away from you.”
“You’re taking away the choice I’m trying to make.”
She kissed his cheek. “Nice try. Not doing it.”
Callan sighed and was leaning forward to kiss her when he stilled, and his gaze lost focus. He jumped to his feet. “TecKnati have broken through the ward.”
