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He regards me, lamplight glinting his eyes the shade of honey. “It is not a curse, Lark. It’s a gift.”

“But do you mean it?” I whisper. “Or will you despise me once we crawl back under that bridge?”

His shoulders loosen. The lamp swings as he closes the gap between us. He smooths back hair that has escaped from my braid, and cups the side of my head in his hand. “I would never despise you.”

I want to kiss him. I want to grab him by his corded hair and pull him toward me. Taste his lips. Touch him. Be close to him. But instead I just cover his hand with my own. “Thank you, Azmar.”

He runs his thumb over my cheekbone. “Thank you, Lark. For telling me. And for staying.”

Butterflies spring to life in my stomach. He lowers his hand to my back and guides me toward the bridge. I practically lean on him as wewalk, but when the great bridge’s struts come into sight, I pull away. Homper is still on duty. We descend into Cagmar, and Azmar puts out his light.

We reach the lift. Azmar pulls the ropes. I wait a few heartbeats before saying, “Thank you for the lock.”

“You already thanked me.”

“But will you stay with me again tonight?”

The rope stops. Azmar looks over his shoulder at me. “Yes, after I put my things away.”

Pressure builds in my chest. It’s both unpleasant and ... not.

He stops the lift at my level, and I hurry to my room, searching the shadows. No one lurking, not yet. I close my door behind me and slide the new latch into place, letting out a long breath. Fumbling with my flint, I light a candle. I’m not allotted many, so I light only one. Then I pull off my dress and change into a lighter one for sleeping. Sit on the edge of my cot.

I can still feel the weight of Azmar’s hand on the side of my face.I would never despise you.

My heart races, making me feel too warm. Hugging myself, I hunch until my forehead touches my knees. I had hoped Azmar would react well. He’s so calm, so open-minded. But to have it go so smoothly ...

I lift my head and stare into the dark.Wholly unexpected,the Cosmodian said.

Couldn’t I ... Couldn’t I still find a family in Cagmar?

The humans here haven’t rejected me. Wiln and Ritha are kind. But ... could I not have Perg as my brother, and Unach as my sister? And Azmar ...

Unach’s voice echoes in my head.Are you in love with my brother?

I close my eyes.Yes, I am.

My heart still thuds when I hear a soft knock at my door. It’s Azmar’s knock. Leaving the candle on my table, I hurry over, pull the latch, and let him in. He has a spare blanket with him. I lock the door behind him, relishing the security of the bolt. The security of him.

Azmar drops the blanket on the floor. “I don’t think he’ll try again so soon,” he says, looking at the lock. “But I don’t know Grodd well.”

“You are amazing, Azmar.” I don’t think I meant to speak it out loud. It was just a whisper, but in the silence of the room, it carries. Azmar turns toward me, solid and mesmerizing in the candlelight. Embarrassment heats my neck. “You are. Everything about you is amazing.”

He regards me a long time, making me self-conscious. “You’re different, Lark.” He matches my tone. “Not because you’re human. The way you speak, act, move—it’s everything Cagmar isn’t.”

I smile. “Hard and purposeful and full of joists?”

His lip quirks. “Purposeful, yes. But graceful, compassionate.” His gaze shifts to the candle. “Like that flame.”

“Easily extinguished.” I touch my neck, remembering the press of Grodd’s fingertips.

Azmar moves toward me. Touching the other side of my neck, he grazes my jaw with a knuckle. “No one will extinguish you, Lark. Not so long as I draw breath.”

I want to cry and laugh at once, but I do neither. I just stare up at him. The candlelight makes his eyes look like jewels and his skin look like agave leaves. There is nothing human about him, and yet he’s so human tome, so much more like myself than any creature I’ve met before. He is beautiful, and his beauty warms my skin, even in the cool air of my narrow room.

His hand has not left my face. He studies me, and I’m desperate to know what he’s thinking. What he sees in my face, what he hears in my breaths. What questions and theories turn inside that mind of his.

I step closer without thinking. The fine hairs on my arm stand on end when he bends, his face close to mine, closer still. The warmth of his breath grazes my cheekbones.