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“Stop!” My voice cracks like a whip. “Just stop. This isn’t who we are. Not anymore.”

They freeze, breathing hard, their gazes locked on one another over my head. I place a hand on each of their chests, one warm, one cool. Both their hearts hammer beneath my palms.

“We’re here because we all saw the same thing. Because we know what’s coming. If we don’t find a way to work together, we’re all dead. Human, Urr’ki, Zmaj, it won’t matter.”

Ryatuv looks down at me, his eyes storm-dark and flickering with emotion. Z’leni’s mouth tightens, but he doesn’t pull away.

“I don’t trust him,” Z’leni mutters.

“I know,” I say gently. “And I don’t blame you. But maybe… maybe trust comes later. Maybe we start with truth.”

The silence stretches. Then Ryatuv speaks.

“I was taught all my life to hate your kind. To see you as cruel, manipulative, dangerous.” He shifts slightly. “But I’ve seen you risk everything to help Elara. You could’ve run. You didn’t.”

Z’leni tilts his head. He frowns deeply, and a low rumble emerges from his lips before he grunts

“And I was taught to see your kind as savage. Unthinking. But you threw yourself after Elara when she fell when you didn’t have to. And… you’ve fought well.” Z’leni says, the final admission feels as it had to tear its way free of his throat but now it’s out.

My voice wavers as look at both of them.

“So maybe it’s not about forgetting the past. Maybe it’s about choosing the future.”

They say nothing, but something shifts. I feel it like the tremor before a quake. Like the heat that rises from deep below. And then Z’leni takes my face in his hands. It’s gentle, reverent, and a little desperate.

“Elara,” he murmurs. “You make me believe things I shouldn’t.”

He leans in. My heart stutters. His mouth brushes mine—a breath, a promise, a dangerous hope. Heat spirals low in my belly. Not far. Just enough that I can see the vulnerability in his eyes.

“Elara…” Ryatuv says, voice low. Rough.

I turn to him. He doesn’t move, doesn’t reach. But the way he looks at me… by all the gods ever named, it’s like standing too close to a fire. All that emotion, held tight in his big, battle-scarred body.

“I will not take what is not freely given,” his voice is rough stone and velvet. “I will fight beside you. For you, even if…” he hesitates, staring at Z’leni with a frown so deep it lines his face, “it means standing alongside him.”

My breath hitches. “I don’t want to choose between you.”

“Then don’t,” Z’leni says simply. “Not yet.”

Ryatuv nods once. “We survive first. The rest… we’ll figure out.”

Another distant rumble echoes down the tunnel, breaking the moment. We look at each other and I think they feel every bit as awkward as I do. Words seem too small and even if they aren’t, I don’t have any. Biting my lip I nod.

We resume walking.

When we stop next, it’s near what looks like a collapsed transport track. Some old Zmaj or maybe Urr’ki construction, half-eaten by previous lava flows. We huddle in the shadow of a fractured support beam, catching our breath. Z’leni leans against the wall, head tilted back, his eyes closed. Ryatuv crouches beside me, his gaze still on the path ahead.

I can’t stop watching them. Can’t stop feeling everything I’m not supposed to feel.

I love them. Or I’m falling. Whichever or whatever it’s terrifying.

But maybe, just maybe, it’s the only thing strong enough to carry us through what comes next.

Every step echoes with the promise of survival… of the threat of failure.

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RANI