stood up and took several steps away from her, dropping the dagger into the grass as if it burned my hand.
Her face fell.
I returned to Raxthezana’s side and watched as the robotic arm moved across his chest, sealing internal and external wounds with a bright blue ray until it retracted into the bulkhead.
I didn’t know how much time passed, but then Raxthezana opened his eyes and sat up with a groan.
“You’re alive,” I whispered and pressed my head against his chest.
“Even the Goddesses could not keep me away from you,” he said in a low voice and kissed me, and it felt like our souls intertwined as my gratitude and relief transformed to unfettered joy.
When we ended the kiss, Raxthezana strode down the ramp with me so we could face the Ikma Scabmal Kama together.
“How are you alive, iktheka?” she asked, then looked at Naraxthel and Hivelt. Raxkarax and Natheka emerged from the ship as well, and their mates followed.
“How are any of you alive? I sent you to your deaths,” she said and spat on the ground beside her. She swung her gaze to Raxthezana again. “I plunged it deep into your heart home, hunter. You should be dead.”
“I would be, but for the fact my heart no longer dwells there,” he said.
Frowning, she tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “It cannot be. Heart mates do not exist.”
None of us spoke, waiting for her to let the truth settle. Her eyes darted to all the humans, stopped on held hands or arms around waists, and I saw the moment realization struck.
The former Ikma’s face contorted into a wicked, hateful scowl, and she tried to scramble up, but only managed to tip herself to the side.
I squatted down.
“I’m sorry I gave you the idea my heart was filled with hate,” I said. “It’s not. I fell in love with one of your hunters.”
“We all did,” Esra spoke next.
“Our heart mates descended from the skies,” Naraxthel said. “Like shooting stars, these five were sent to heal our hearts and our people, and their love sunk into our heart homes.”
“The Answer Dream,” she said in a hoarse whisper. The Queen’s eyes darted between the humans and the hunters, her mouth grimacing and distorting until she howled her rage in a torrent of angry curses. She only quieted when she was spent, cheeks bloodshot and lips bleeding from her efforts.
“Kill me,” she whimpered, but wracking coughs seized her again, until we realized she was drowning in her own illness.
I swore and grabbed her under the arms, lifting her until I could scoop her up and run to the med bay. Laying her out on the table, I would have to release her wrist bindings if I wanted her to lie back, but she began thrashing.
Amity appeared at my side, and we prevented her from flailing herself off the table, but then her back arched and she stilled.
Panting, I looked at her face and saw her slack features, her dead eyes staring at nothing, and realized she was gone.
“Go,” Amity whispered and turned me away from the dead Queen.
Dazed, I stood before Raxthezana who’d followed me onto the ship.
“She was given the injector with the antidote,” he said. “But she chose not to use it.”
“She drowned in her own fluids,” I said, my voice flat. “She couldn’t breathe.”
“CeCe,” Raxthezana said, his voice tender as he grasped my shoulders. “You tried to save her. She who watched you suffer. Let that bring you peace.”
Shaking myself out of my stupor, I fell into Raxthezana’s embrace and sighed. “I was afraid the torture would turn me into a monster.”
“You conquered her with love instead of hate,” he whispered. “Do you still wish to be called War?”
I gave a sad laugh and shook my head. “God, no. Just call me CeCe.”